Galois

Two or three days back, we had a test in Galois theory in class. I finished the exam early and was getting bored so i did something. I did get something back too.

India and its authors.

Some indian authors have got the real thing that makes them into wonderful story tellers. the ecstasy one gets after reading their novels is like getting to view life from a new perspective.  they are the kind who know what the heart of india is made of and they present it with so much simplicity,so utterly simple english, so simple terms that jostles a new life in each place they set their story in. one such story i completed about an hour ago is 'the hungry tide' by amitav ghosh. the characters were so amazing. out of all them,fokir,in particular,whose character would be the most simple and complex at the same time. ghosh has a history with calcutta and its neighbours. and real indian authors,the kind i am talking about, know that any novel in an indian setting could not get away without a beautiful history which must come from colonial times or maybe before. this is not a picked opinion but formed by reading certain great novels ,sea of poppies, alchemy of desire,a suitable boy, calcutta chromosome, god of small things,house of mr biswas and many more. these just could not go without a bit of some britain in it somehow. i do not know what good or bad did brits do by coming here,but sure they gave us a lot of stories to tell about. i beleive that;s what makes us different,authors,poets,thinkers different from some other people that we just live to tell a good story and then we have accomplished the purpose of life. one good story.that's all one needs for a lifetime.that's what i want my life to be. one such poet was shiv kumar batalvi,who succummed to alcohol badly and died at an early age of near 30's.but he produced beautiful poetry the time he lived for. i belive mathematics are no different,they are also poets and novelists. after having some mathematical maturity one could just read a mathematics monograph just like a novel, someone telling a story and appreciate its beauty.this has not happened yet to me.hopefully later if i stick to it.

Of gods and totally ordered sets

some people choose to believe in god and some don't. i have met several people who can even decide the degree to which they believe in god. 'thoda sa' as they would say. does god's belief come in installments.i dunno.to my experience, i have encountered people who are orthodoxian in the existence of their gods like my parents and i have met scientists who are partial believers of their god. i have also met people who know (or they think so) that god doesn't exist but choose to believe he does. i chose 'he' because it would be difficult to think of female god. how could a female, a mother, a daughter, a girlfriend create such a stupid world. only men are good at this. or maybe god is a transvestite or maybe he doesn't have a sex or maybe he's not a person or maybe he is the sky above us who sees everything and makes people comfortable by its benevolent presence or maybe he is driver of the bus i sit in everyday to go to lecture hall or maybe he is the rice i ate today or maybe the keyboard on which i am typing or maybe i am one. how would one ever know.

the portrayal of god in religion have been depicted to the point of utter amusement and is comical at its root, if god does exist, which i am really skeptic of, then why should he have 4 arms and look like a malformed -genetically modified human.i am talking of Hindu gods. well there are lot of them. if god is taken to the most superior being among all souls, how can there be more than one. if there are two god, who live in a totally ordered set,then their powers are comparable(this is the order) and one of them must be superior. assuming set of all gods is totally ordered under the their respective powers, then there must exist a bigger god to every god, and then if one is required to believe in gods then why not choose the most powerful one. this Hindu philosophy has trouble comprehending,so they said 'well gods powers can be compared, so if they form a set,your logic would work, they said that the collection of all gods is not a set,its a class'. and i was hysterical. other religion have tried to avoid this issue,by not directly working with god,but with messengers of them. Jesus turns out to be son of god but not god himself,so why is he given so much respect and stature. because he was sent by god or at least he said so. now would you believe that. 'hey James,wassup?my name is Jesus,well my father "god" sent me to ask to follow him,pray his name before you eat and lot of other stuff which he has typeset in a book you will get, will you do that.
now James was confused.he said,
'life is normal, i hunt, i get food, i eat.no big deal'
'if i spent time on this stuff, i will not be able to focus on my family's well-being,so thanks but no thanks'.
several other religions have adopted this concept of not allowing  human beings to directly see god but their messenger ,this goes with Islam and maybe some more.
some who were blessed by god's messengers become demi-god themselves and the power flows through them and its ok for people to respect and believe these demi-gods whom they can  see and talk with,in order, to be in communium with god himself. these demi-gods are priests.
so you might ask, what is all the fuss about.
believe in god if you want to,otherwise not. it works for most of us.
until god is attached with religion which was a concept invented by someone to help people put blame and hopes on someone else and not their own incompetency or maybe  just plain bad luck. god was for everything. the random component of the environment which decided which days which it will start raining, which days it would be a washout, how long a person will live, how far the road will go. all the worldly decisions which could ever be made were already taken, and we are just merely enacting them out.
until also the religion with the set of rules it comes with, decides to act physically. don’t let earth get crowded with people who don’t believe in this. there's no point in them living. either they should start believing which might or might not be enough, otherwise they gotta die. now this fact that taking someone's life is decided just by a set of rules someone came up with long time ago makes it really difficult to decide the worth of life. only those who are powerful survive. so whatever they do, the world must do. this way the world was given Christianity from a small flock of people who inhabited tons of islands just for fun. that's how Christianity came to Africa, India, south east Asia, America,and Caribbean. they said their god was better than the older gods of people or maybe if they had none,they put the fear in people first and gave them the antidote as god. to support the notion that their god was powerful ,they came with heavy artillery and big horses. now who would disagree to the fact that men of British god are so powerful, then god must be harbinger of all pains and desire which could wipe out everyone,if angered. this is how most religions spread. one particular instance is beautifully denoted in the novel of chinua Achebe 'things fall apart'.
initially in the hunter gatherer times when men were living comfortably i presume, they had nothing to do,they would get bored easily, they invented something which would keep all of them including their descendents busy for lifetimes and that would not be enough. they came up with the idea to give an 'axiom schema' , a way to invent thing,lot of things. the algorithm was,'choose a particular set of rules,anything random would work, which everyone should follow and the rules should not be such that everyone can follow them and not so hard that no one can follow them,this would give rise to disparity among people,their degree of proficiency in abiding by the rules would give them position in society.
a game in which the rules included believing in a superior being who controlled everyone, not eating deer on Sundays, eating humans on Tuesdays, not having sex on Thursday between morning to evening',etc..' is called a religion of some type.
deeding on different rules, we get different religion.
given some rules,we also get mathematics.
given somewhat lesser rules,we get physics.
this is how the 'siesta' was invented.
i do wonder if everything in world is just a game. we humans start enacting it the moment we are born and play it till you are forced to withdraw, then people stop talking to you and you are experienced enough to dismiss them and not take care of them.
atheism turns out to be the spreading in one form or the other. now the rules of the game are changing.it is also somewhat trendy to be an atheist. people look up to you,they look at you and wonder 'what will happen to him when he is judged by god',their god, because in their eyes,their god was the supreme power. and seeing your carelessness,they presume that god himself,their god,must have made you that way. that means ,you are not out of the clutches of the god, you still are judged by him.

Summer of '14

I guess this is apt time to write 'Summer of '14 ' .
I dont know what i am doing.
I dont know why i am doing what i am doing.
i dont know if it could be better.
So i ask myself. DUde what;s up.
And then the story starts.
I am currently attending an instructional school on Basic quadratic forms in IISER,mohali. one of the organisers of the school is Shripad garge,well this time he seems little more friendly than what he was before. Schedule,you dont ask. morning 8 am breakfast, and the same one each day,aloo parantha, gotta start hating it sometimes, lecture starts at 9.30 am and goes on till 1 pm with some breaks in between. then lunch in lhc and then tutorial from 2 to 4 pm. well,if there is no guest lecture. and then we come back and do nothing in particular. and then dinner at 8 pm and a night session,sometimes from 9.30 to 11 pm and then we go to sleep,that is ,if it comes. and the cycle starts all over again. i have only been 4 days or so into the school and i dont feel intimidated yet, so i am pretty happy with it. i am the youngest participant here. and i understand stuff,so it feels nice. i even solve some problems on board, that also feels nice. i hate the  old man in the canteen who is actually paid to give us stuff but he does it so miserably ,it feels like we have asked his life in installments to be delivered to us. that old miserable bloke. and then i am supposed to be going to bangalore next month for some random shit in physics and biology. its just because i want free food and some time to stay away from pune, which is a depressing place these days. manish here cracks very nice jokes, well,he is a faculty. he made such nice imitation of khanduja about her 'thing' with 'hensel's lemma' , her students state a new version of it and they find it equivalent to the orgiinal one each time. sweet. then last month i did some 'commutative algebra' and little bit of category theory and i think i am gonna delve deeper into the category theory. i at least by the end of next semester should be able to state and prove the adjoint functor theorem. and then use it to show the existence of tensor functor. food here is actually not that bad considering it is free.
i watched xmen, didn't feel very awesome bout it,its a very very normal movie. no action, jackman looks very old, how could they show him in a college dress and stuff. too old for that. i also read a couple of novels in pune. like 'the god of small things' which was a pretty good one, really nice, it is so simple and it speaks of very very normal things in life and the story is just so charming because of its simplicity,the way children behave. i also read 'the story of my assasins' by tarun tejpal. now that i see it, it was charming initially ,maybe because of erotic component in his novels, but otherwise it seemed well written, very well written.  i started 'the new life' by orhan pamuk by its starting was so shitty, i stopped in the middle and threw it , is bout a boy who reads some book by the same name and his life has changed in a day and he cant stop reading it and the author will never mention what is in the book llike for half of the book, so at some point i gave up, i dont want to know,period. though i read 'nother one of his novel 'snow' which was lost by me before i could complete it,although whatever part i read , i liked very much. it somehow reminded me of 'devil and miss primm' . i started 'perfume;the story of a murderer' but through the initial few pages it was interesting and then i could make much sense of french places so i left it in middle. maybe i will resume it some day. i might read 'deception point' but considering my  mentality about dan brown ,i can already predict the story knowing nothing bout  it. it will involve some high profile organisation in which something will go wrong and someone will come to correct it,maybe langdon himself, and then the most normal guy with a high post or something will turn out to be the villain.  lets hope its not this. i saw '12 angry men' it seems very similar to a movie made on some 'agatha christie novel in which the good guy convinces the jury of innocence of someone who was not really innocent.i saw a hindi movie after a very long time and i did not regret this one, this is called 'no smoking' a movie in which a chain smoker's life changes every instance he goes to an organisation to get rid of his cigs habit. its a nice movie except that nobody really knows what was real and what was his dream.
too much for now. lets see where life takes us. so long.

the story of a curious little mouse

His name was toby, he demanded everyone in the mouse family call him that since he christened himself. his father mocked him  'since when did mouses start keeping names', and in moment of wisdom, to avoid public mockery, he even gave him a logical reason, 'son, there are millions of us, we can produce a lot, i cannot remember who is my son or not,of course you are special that's why i keep you close, if everyone started keeping names, one day names would be finished,exhausted' but toby being a bright student of logic and tomfoolery would reply 'numbers are infinite, we could choose numbers, you could start with 1022 and start naming them linearly' . unfortunately nobody, none whatsoever, ever understood this arguement. but toby was smart chap.

T-O-B-Y,TOBY used to live in the fire pipeline of the building in which there were lot of young people, who vanished together at certain time of the day and miraculously reappear at some fixed time. He could never understand why. he asked many of his ignorant elders, but as they were ignorant as the adjective used for them also suggests , they were ignorant. plain and simple.
'dear grandpa, where do these big people go in the morning and why do they come back at sunset'
'well,my dear little mouse'
'r u a dumbwit'
(they didn't worry bout etiquettes, 'is that the way to talk to one;s elders, toby? )
'no'
'then call me by my name,haven'i told you like millions of times'
 'alright toby, listen up'
'have you seen their tails'
'no'replied toby
'well ,that 's because they lost it,they go in the forests looking for their tails'
'is that so,grandpa'
'believe it or not'
'but how do u know this'
(well i cooked this up,asshole)
'my grandparents told me' replied grandpa.
 at first they tried to cook up explanations and as the logical chain of explanations faltered, they had to change the older explanation and after a while, they got tired of constructing a story at the expense of so much brain energy that they could not go on. they simply told him to shut up.
toby decided to take matters in his own hands,
he decided to go to the room of each one of them and check what was the real story.
one night while i was asleep. during midnight, i felt some signs on motion on my head. either i could be a strong boy and catch by hand whatever was trying to infiltrate my privacy or i could freak out and yell.
 i decided the latter. well ... now i think it really was a decision.
i jumped out of the bed in a swift motion and kept my yells low enough to only reach a couple of other nearby rooms and switched on the lights only to find my bed totally empty. i seriously was going to consider it as a bad dream when i saw the devil myself. He was scrupulously looking around me and for a jiffy, he was even staring at me. i couldn't let this meandering vagabond ruin my sleep. i ran for it.
like it understood my body's decision before the moment it was actually delivered to me,the funny creature ran for the precious little hole bout 10 meters from my room,the place where he came from and i towards it. initially,i dodged him a couple of times but every time he ran on the adjacent wall giving him a real ninja advantage.i had the godly revelation to grapple the part of the story ,where journey is not important,only the end is.which made me run to his hole directly and i was waiting for him with cleverness of jack sparrow. he went into his hole.i was standing at one of the many gates. well, needless to say, i was faster but he was so small that i could not particularly stop him.
 what next happened was a mistake.On his part.
he came out till my door, and guess what, i wasn't inside. i was behind him. and that must be the horror when cartoon serials end with the devil clawing up behind you and you don't have the slightest clue. and the little fella was in my hands.his mommy would be real sorry for him,well,if she really cared. he just couldn't realise the truthfulness of the moment, the fact that his life was not his now and that somebody else was his 'father of the moment'. he tried so hard,so strongly ,so wildly ,to escape my clutches that it took some real perserverance to tame him, to make him realise that there was no way out of this. after a while , he submitted to his fate. the fate yet to be decided.
in a moment  of indecision ,faced by consequences and in-consequences of my actions-to-be, i hurled it from the 20th floor,the floor i used to live on, to the black billowing smoke oozing from the ground,which gave it a slightly ghostly touch.i don't know what happened next.but i was never bothered again.

Little Toby was dead.
Jonathan toby mouse should not believe in tales of other kingdom.

Nirvana of my tooth

Last night was a bad night.I hurriedly woke up at dawn of the sunday morning, which was quite unusual for me. Something was not right and upon slumber recollection of the bygone hours i realised the cause, my tooth was hurting. It was not the usual painful hurt which would keep you awake all night ,keep you from enjoying anything in life ,keeping you from your own thoughts,,,this was different, more subtler, more sober..the pain that was meant to last till eternity,where you could if you chose to ,enjoy life as normal as green grass, as usual as a school boy;s daily schedule, ..but only if you chose to. Because it would always be there in the background reminding you of the failures of your flossal and its deeply rooted dentures. It would not make life hell for you, it would make you choose your life your own hell. That was the kind of pain that kept me awake until i finally slipped into the sleep which could only come when one is spent. I made coffee for myself and poured ronnie his milk which he had grown fond of, i dont know why,since dogs are not known to be into milk and stuff. I drank my sip little by little, since it was just the right coffee one could ever make. Like a old blind man strolling towards the cliff edge of which he has a premoniation but cannot be sure, I knew something was coming. I could n;t see it until it hit me in the face, the totality of my calmness was lost , i did not know of any composture to suit me, it was paining really hard this time. Coffee was on the floor, ronnie seemed confused. I was lying on the carpet with hands on the jaw and really disfigured into a heap of dengenrate drug addict searching for some warmth in the cold cold world. Saile had asked me to see a doctor long time back,even reminded me last month. I never took her seriously. It was time to heed her. Or was it?
Consdering all the wrongs that had happened in recent times, and not one could i discount myself as just the one who happened to be there. I was wrong all the time, i had been wrong knowingly. This was my justification to myself. This was my reward. I had to let it pain. let it pain till it seeped the courage out of me, my ego,my lust, my desire, my inability, and everything out of me. I sat there on the floor in agony and let it pain and let it pain.

The slipping of my soul

i woke up hurriedly from the noise of howling wolves in the vicinity of the campus.Having the hostel near the edge of a dense forest had its pros and cons but at that moment, i'd rather not be there. The noise was so shrill that i could not muster the courage to even look at the beast from the adjacent window. Being an atheist, i could not even make up my mind to pray to some one to protect me. The howling was getting louder instant by instant, shriller and more shriller when i decided to duck under the bed in case the wolf looks from the window and can wolves be too bad when they are really hungry?I heard a knock, wait was it really a knock, the howling had subsided,the darkness prevailed.It was like the thick curtain of fog that spread over the window and made it impossible to look anywhere. Someone was definitely knocking. I got up from the bed, the floor could not have been more colder, it was like the devil himself had sucked the heat from the bosom of mother earth. Trudging towards the door, i asked who is it?. No reply came. The knocking continued. Bless me god, coz i am alive and i opened the door. Why was the face of this person not clear. Wait, he had a cloak about him, a dark one. I asked him his name. He did not reply. I asked him his status in college, he did not reply. And why was he so short. Even shorter than me.No,maybe equal to me. He entered my room with a slick move and positioned himself on my bed.i was confused about how did he manage to enter the door through the narrow entrance when i was blocking it. I was getting furious and scared of this unholy object. I got hold of the hockey stick kept near the door, i had a feeling that it was not going to end nice. I shouted at the person to reveal himself, open his cloak and identify himself. He did not respond. I proceeded towards him with great fury and raised the stick to build the momentum to deliver my anger with the greatest precision. When i realised my stick would not move forward, someone was holding it. I turned back to look. And what did i find. Professor Trowmbley was holding it. Everything would be fine, if only Proffessor Trowmbley was alive.