neo and morpheus

Money is Energy

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Fri, 08 Feb 2013 18:34:00 +0000

The global economic crisis of last 5 years has brought out many voices which incisively cut through everyday beliefs about how the engine of economic activity works. It may be a "Breath, Neo!" moment when the underpinnings of the economic Matrix transform from a smudge background to a sharp, focused image.

Building up my own perspective on these issues has a thought gain hold on me. Money is Energy.

Fundamentally, all work we do as humans uses energy. In a broader sense, any activity which occurs on this planet, be it by animals, plants or nature, uses energy. And all this energy comes from our great star, the Sun. All fossil fuels are a store of Sun's energy. All green sources (solar, wind, tidal) are a store of Sun's energy. The only energy which humans can claim to be creating independent of Sun is in form of nuclear energy (fission and fusion), and even that is just imitating Sun. We haven't tapped yet into other exotic forms like zero point energy, anti-gravity etc. as of now.

What is wealth? It is the useful surplus generated when one expends energy to harness more energy. We eat food and then work to build machines which can do multiple times more work. We eat food and extract energy from Earth so that these machines can be run.

At any time of human development, there is a limit to how much extra energy can any one human produce. If a man was stranded on an island all alone, he could make tools and use them to better his living conditions only to a natural limit - which is imposed by time available, longevity of his body, availability of natural resources and his knowledge about how to harness any resource. Time is something which we yet don't know how to create (we haven't yet invented time machines). Body longevity is something which medical profession is dedicated towards. Availability of natural resources is why wars take place. And amount of knowledge a human can gain is limited by brain's capacity and time at hand. Among all these constraints, effectively it is only the 'knowledge' factor which most humans have some control on. So, we, as a species, discovered that skill specialization is the best way to increase our energy output.

However, that left us in a Catch 22 situation. If we specialize in one knowledge area, how do we make our needs met in areas of life which require other knowledge. So, we invented money.

Money is a representation of the value of the extra energy we have harnessed to produce something useful for others. It is, therefore, firstly a common unit for measuring the utility of a produce. It is the token one gets for expending themselves in creating something. This token can then also serve as a medium of exchange. Money can be used to get end results of some other person's specialized knowledge of harnessing energy. The seller then uses the obtained money to become buyer to some other seller's produce. Money transfer links one person to another in the ecosystem.

But, if money were only this, maybe we would have a simpler world to live with. Its allure is more because it is also a store of energy which can be used in future, i.e. money is wealth. It is something which affords the peace to a man that his future needs will be met and that he can pass on his store of wealth for his off-spring to utilize. The utility of money is as the wealth required for a man's life to go on with ease and his offsprings' to have a good launching pad into their own life. This is driven by the another fundamental force permeating through the Universe. That, life wants to find a way. Or, that genes want to survive and propagate. And for genes to achieve this objective, they need to deploy energy. So, 'the selfish gene' ensures that humans try to maximize energy available for themselves and also ensure that enough will be available for use of their off-springs.

Of course, for some people, the means become the end, and instead of viewing the utility of the quantity of money one wants to have, some primal portion of the brain gets into a race for having more of the quantity of the money. Perhaps, it is because if you have more money than your own needs, you are in a position to command others on whom your can bestow portions of your surplus money. This 'power' helps the gene to survive better and ensure a safer world for their off-springs.

Before money was invented, it was difficult for any one person to conclusively hold on to any surplus he generated. Any extra food he may forage would perish in a matter of days. Any extra cattle may get attacked by predators. His command over others could only be maintained so far as he had physical power to assert himself. And there was no guarantee that his offsprings could pull of the same feat.

Thus, money is a store of energy which complex organisms like us invented for the purpose of giving our genes a better today and promise of a better tomorrow. Money is how we want to store the Sun's life giving energy and use it as a proxy for energy transfer between humans. It is the ultimate talisman!

[Viewing money as an energy store can help in understanding true nature of various economic systems, right ways of money creation, discern what is investment, know how money is misused by few powerful people and even understand central bank policies. Want to write about this some time soon.]

Zen story - Dreaming

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 12:00:00 +0000

The great Taoist master Chuang Tzu once dreamt that he was a butterfly fluttering here and there. In the dream he had no awareness of his individuality as a person. He was only a butterfly. Suddenly, he awoke and found himself lying there, a person once again.

But then he thought to himself, "Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?"

Committment

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 09:59:00 +0000

Two excepts from a book I recently read:

1.
"Consider someone with an alcohol problem. After years of problem drinking, she finally decides to make a change. She goes into rehab. She gets the best education about alcoholism and its treatment. She assembles a team of doctors, therapists, good friends, and loved ones to support her through recovery. And then she makes a promise to herself: I’m not going to take another drink. Will she drink again? We don’t know. And as long as she’s still breathing, we’ll never know—and neither will she. We might talk about the odds of her relapse, based on the success rates of the treatments she receives. We might look at examples of commitments she has made in the past and make a guess about her commitment “credit score.” But the only way to “answer” the question of whether she’ll drink again is to watch each unfolding moment of her life—from now until she draws her last breath—to see whether she’ll open another bottle or raise another glass to her lips. Depending on circumstances, we could be watching this process for a very long time. And all the while, we’ll be swimming in—you guessed it—ambiguity. Many people in recovery struggle with this not-knowing, and there’s more than a little reason to suppose that this struggle is behind many a relapse: In the moment when she takes that next drink, the ambiguity goes away. We get our answer: yes, she will drink again. And in that answer, even if it’s devastating, she gets a moment of peace."

(Note: This story is only the first part and does not have this sad end. It is just used to setup the backdrop to show that the person was finally able to kick her alcoholism)

Now jump ahead ten years. Let’s say she really turns her life around. She falls in with some people who help her kick her drinking problem. They set her up in a job in the mail room of an importexport company. Over the years, she works her way out of the mail room and into the sales department. Eventually, she’s promoted to manage a team of salespeople based in China. She finds herself in the business class of a jetliner, flying from Los Angeles to Beijing. She’s wiping her hands on a hot towel; flight attendants are offering her sparkling mineral water and extra pillows. To go from skid row to business class, our friend would have to beat some pretty steep odds. But stories like hers are not unheard of by any means. When she was trying to make it to the next year, though, do you suppose she was dreaming of hot towels and sparkling water thirty-five thousand feet over the Pacific? Chances are she wasn’t. Life is often like that: we can only see so far ahead, and to be able to imagine the possibilities once we’ve reached a certain future point, we sometimes need to just move off in that direction and see what happens next. We just don’t know how things will turn out much of the time. This being the case, the outcomes of our commitments, whether they’re to limited goals or evolving values, aren’t something we have a lot of control over. But moment to moment, we can commit to doing something that will get us a little closer to whatever it is that matters to us. And when we fail—and we will fail—we’ll suddenly find ourselves in a new moment where, once again, we can commit to our valued lives.

2.
There’s a story in the Bible that points at the understanding of commitment we’re arguing for. It’s the story of Peter, first among the apostles, the “rock” on which Jesus declares he’ll build his church. It’s also the story of Peter, the undependable, unfaithful, and short-tempered fisherman. These two people are one and the same—and this matters for the purpose of our discussion of commitment. (And just so we’re clear: we relate this only because we love it. It’s a beautiful description of what it means to be committed to something even though we’re all too human and fallible. This isn’t Sunday school, and we’re not preachers—just a couple of guys hooked on a story.) It all starts when Jesus comes upon Simon Peter, his brother, and a couple of other fishermen, plying their trade on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. In most of the gospels, Peter decides to join up with Jesus after Jesus promises to make him a “fisher of men” (for example, see Matt. 4:18–19). In the Gospel of Luke, though, Peter is talked into apostle-hood only when the Messiah offers him a professional tip that directs him to “a great multitude of fishes” (Luke 5:6). This is the start of a roller-coaster relationship that winds its way through Judea. In the Gospel of Matthew, Peter accompanies Jesus when he walks on water, only to lose faith at the last minute and go splashing down into the drink (Matt. 14:28–31). During the last supper, Jesus foretells his own death and warns that, with him gone, the apostles’ faith will be shaken. “Though all may have their faith in you shaken,” Peter brays, “mine will never be” (Matt. 26:23), making a characteristic promise-about-the-future commitment. Jesus, indulgent, replies that not only will Peter’s faith be shaken, but he will also actually commit three acts of betrayal even before the night is over(Matt. 26:34). But before we can see how the betrayal part of the story plays out, Jesus up and takes Peter and some of the other disciples off to the garden of Gethsemane. The Messiah asks Peter and his fellows to keep watch. Jesus goes into the garden to pray, but when he comes back, he finds Peter and the others sound asleep (Matt. 26:40), leading Jesus to remark that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matt. 26.41). As if that weren’t bad enough, Peter can’t even stay awake a second time or even a third—making the whole agony-in-the-garden thing pretty much a bust for Peter. When the priests and Pharisees, acting on a tip from Judas, come to arrest Jesus, Peter is once again in rare form. In the Gospel of John, as Jesus is taken into custody, Peter loses his temper, draws his sword, and hacks the ear off of the high priest’s servant, some poor schlub named Malchus. Again, Jesus gently rebukes him, and the story continues. While Jesus is questioned, Peter sulks off into the street and snuggles up to a warm fire. It doesn’t take too long for a servant girl to recognize the first of the disciples. And here come the betrayals: Uh, no. You must be mistaking me for someone else (Mark 14:68). Not satisfied,she repeats her charge to the others gathered around, to which Peter responds something like: Jesus? Never met the guy (Mark 14:70). Finally, the people around the fire get wise: You so have a Galilean accent! It’s not as if there are that many Galileans kicking around Jerusalem. You must be friends with this Jesus guy. Caught, Peter does what many of us might do: he blows his stack, swears like a sailor (or maybe a fisherman?), and denies any knowledge of his master: “I know not this man of whom ye speak” (Mark 14:71). Then comes the grim day of the Crucifixion and the mystery of the Resurrection. Despite all of his shady behavior, Jesus still reveals himself to Peter several times. On the last occasion, he asks the disciple three times, “Do you love me?” (John 21:15–17). And each time Peter insists that he does. And so Jesus holds open the door to his disciple one more time: “Follow thou me” (John 21:22). There’s a lovely message in this story. It’s an acknowledgment that none of us is perfect. We have short tempers, bad moods, moments of faithlessness—and yet, as long as we’re above ground, we have a chance to turn back to what matters to us. Betrayal after betrayal, outburst after outburst—and Peter still comes back. It’s not necessarily as important that Jesus welcomes him—although this gives the story a much happier ending. What matters is that, each time he wandered, Peter turned back.

Triple X

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Sat, 26 May 2012 16:45:00 +0000

A beautiful thought about "birthdays"...

(Source: http://blog.beliefnet.com/mindfulnessmatters/2011/04/happy-birthday-buddha.html)

Well, let’s first consider birthdays. Like most holidays, birthdays privilege one day over another and, thereby, run the risk of subverting mindfulness (because all days can be regarded as special). At least once a year we remember we are alive, and awaken to the precious possibility that this life represents. Maybe.

In this sense, every day is our birthday. In fact, every moment is a birthday — a birth into this moment.

First steps in Learning LISP

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 19:30:00 +0000

My Road to Lisp started with an accident. I was looking for reading up on something about Hacker culture. One thing lead to another and before long I was installing a Common Lisp flavor in my machine.

But I am jumping myself here. The story starts when I was looking to read something related to Computer Science fundamentals. Why something? Well, just for the heck of it. To rub an itch, so as to say. I wanted to make a detour from my regular day job and indulge in something which is closer to my passion of technology. So, I started reading up on UNIX and Internet history.

This wonderful book Where the Wizards stay up late transported me to the era when DARPA was funding inter-networking R&D project. The main story had a side plot on what happened in AI Labs at MIT in early 1970s, how Richard Stallman's life took a turn which has had lasting impact on the politics of software and how UNIX gained traction in academics community while other existing systems slowly went into oblivion.

After a while I picked up Tenanbaum's book on MINIX. I was revisiting concepts of process scheduling, memory management, thread management etc while also getting introduced to the debate of monlithic vs micro/modular approach to kernel design. This led me to discover Tenanbaum vs Torvalds debate, discovery about GNU Hurd and again encountering RMS.

Any mention of RMS goes without bringing up concept of Free Software movement and later forking of Open Source movement. This story has its stalwarts, apart from RMS and Torvalds, like Eric S Raymond (ESR) and Paul Graham. I read up on different licenses supporting FSF and OSS, differences between them, the business model of FSF and OSS, how OSS is being marketed and how the latest developments are playing out in field of handheld devices. ESR brought me the joys of Hackers and Painters, The Cathedral & The Bazar and various pieces on hacker culture. Paul Graham had great insights to share through his experiences at Y! Combinator.

Through all this, I kept hearing about Lisp:

RMS worked at MIT AI Labs and Lisp was being heavily used there
Discovery that there were Lisp Machines built specially for programming in Lisp and that there architecture was different from von Neumann architecture based on which Personal Computer revolution (the story arc of: Altair, Ed Roberts, Bill Gates, Steves - Jobs & Woznaik, IBM, BASIC, DOS, Xerox PARC, Doug Engelbart, Windows, MSFT, Apple, Pirates of the Silicon Valley, Fire in the Valley)
RMS's life turned upside down by the blow dealt to hacker culture of MIT by politics of Symbolics and LMI (both companies making Lisp Machines)
AI Lab becoming dysfunctional; RMS seeking out to make a free OS to have a development environment which provided full freedom to its user
RMS starting to port Emacs from AT&T's licensed UNIX version to a free version
Development of Emacs Lisp (a flavor of Lisp) to make Emacs extensible
(Seems after this RMS's energy got directed towards making a kernel for von Neumann architecture machines and thus the emphasis to generate a free development tool chain - compilers, debuggers, editors, etc. - for a UNIX like free kernel; as a result C gained prominence in FSF output)
In came AI Winter; funds dried up for AI research and Lisp, already taking a beating from C on the front of OS and app development for PCs, started to lose prominence
Paul Graham sets up ViaWeb and a web service (later to be rechristened Yahoo Web Store); which have code written mostly in Lisp, give super performance and have unheard of RAD capabilities
Paul Graham becomes a proponent of Lisp and sets out to invent his own flavor (Arc)
ESR promotes Lisp; says that even if one is not going to ever use Lisp for production level code, Lisp should still be learnt because its style & power expand your programming thinking for better
Discover in TIOBE that Lisp is still in top 10 languages in prevalence
Discover Greenspun's Tenth Rule -- which says that all computer languages are ad hoc and bug ridden implementation of a subset of Lisp features
Read Golder Escher Bach by Douglas Hofstader - discusses Lisp
Read and worked through the Little Schemer - discovered the world of atoms and S-exp
Went ahead and installed Emacs for Windows (didn't have an opportunity to setup Linux on personal machine while dealing with my day job), clisp & slime. The tool-chain is now ready.
Started reading and working through several Lisp books simultaneously - ended up with seriously following SICP (one of the best CS course books ever written) and Practical Common Lisp
Joined Quora and StackOverflow forums on Lisp
Got also introduced to Haskell. Started reading Learn You a Haskell for Great Good. Its a pretty impressive book.
Installed Haskell compiler. Soon was writing code in Haskell lexical structure and with tail recursion.
Computer crashed. @#$#@!$!@$^%!$@%

Hippo-The-Potamus

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 11:31:00 +0000

Just discovered that Hippos are the most dangerous animal in African continent. Much more dangerous than carnivores. They just beat the crap out of all knowing / unknowing adversaries including crocodiles, rhinos and lions.

Here is an African folk tale about "The Making of Hippo". :)

According to the tale, hippos were one of last animals created and were thrown together from an assortment of leftover parts. The hippo was embarrassed by its ungainly appearance and its hairless, bulky body. It asked the Creator if it could remain concealed in the water by day and come out only under the cover of night in order to feed.

The Creator refused, saying that the hippo would use its huge mouth and vicious teeth to eat all the fish. The hippo responded by promising that it would eat no fish, but only the nearby grass. The Creator was skeptical, but offered a compromise: the hippo could spend its days in the water, but it must come out to spread its dung on the land where it could be inspected by the hovering kingfisher to see if it contained any fish bones.

The hippo agreed and to this day it leaves the water to spread its dung on land where it can be inspected by anyone who cares to do so. (Some less imaginative types suggest that the hippo spreads its dung to mark its territory.)

Books are back

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 06:11:00 +0000

Installed Mobipocket Reader on my Blackberry.
1. Since I don't own another smart phone, Blackberry double times as official communication device and all uses of mobile internet (primary use: Google maps navigation, stock updates, wikipedia searches, fB, Gmail). I have been looking to buy a tablet, with the primary purpose of serving as an eReader.
2. Reading books smoothly during office transit was being hampered by Mumbai local transport's errrr...gonomics and rains.
Mobipocket Reader works magic. You can install its reader on Blackberry, install pdf/html/doc converter to Mobi format on PC/Laptop, transfer books to Blackberry using PC software. On mobile, it has enough settings options (font, background color, line spacing, margins, bookmarks, annotations) to give a comfortable reading experience. Blackberry's form factor is very very convenient for handling in local transport (slip in and out of top pocket while an umbrella usually dangles in one hand; and making way through crowds by effectively using 'shoulder shove'). An obvious option is to buy Kindle, though I dont know how convenient will be its handling in Mumbai transit conditions. For now, I love this totally zero cost solution.

Of bathroom

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 08:21:00 +0000

Bathrooms (and I will stick to this nomenclature than the technically correct "toilets" which I am referring in this post) are places of great sublimity. You connect with yourself on delicately various levels in a bathroom. From physical to mental to downright spiritual. A closeted, private space all for yourself when the world around you may be maddening in cacophony and reaching out with tentacles to drag you in its depths. A refuge of silence, a bubble of hope, a whiff of freshener fragrance reminding that even the worst can be masked if you apply right techniques.

We have such a single occupancy relic in our office. It caters to 13-16 people daily. It will be a nice probability problem to work out chances of two colleagues wanting to use it at the same time. Results get more interesting if you mix in time-of-the-day as a variable, viz. office arrival, office departure, post-lunch, evening siesta etc.

HR policies keep trying to imbibe a sense of togetherness in a bunch of people who normally prefer to remain cocooned in their own cubicles. They must learn a lesson or two from the strategic importance of bathroom. Its single occupancy has helped our office colleagues to be more aware of each other. Every colleague keeps a watch on who is where and how should he/she tactically time his/her natural urges to get unobstructed access to this precious resource.

Minds start keeping log of each other's bathroom habits. We have in our minds undeclared bathroom ninjas, Zen masters and kamikazes.Ninjas get in swiftly, get done with their work in minimum noise (and smell) and come out without leaving a trace. Zen masters like to contemplate on life issues and universal truths sitting on the pot, sometimes going through elaborate rituals of flush-sound-making. Maybe they would see life's twists and turns in that whirlpool which sucks all life's muck deep within the pot's bowels. Kamikazes are a dreaded lot. Collateral Damage is Western word for aftermath for their actions. They destroy the very peace fabric of the bathroom. They leave behind a trail which is hallmark of their operations and impossible to miss. After their mission, they leave the destroyed place with war marks (water splashes only, hopefully) on their trousers and wet light switches smeared by un-dried fingers.

This particular bathroom has a special place in my life journey as well. It bears witness to last 3 years of my work-life as well as personal life. It has been a friend in need. Whenever I have wanted to run-away to Wonderland, it has served as my rabbit hole. I have even explored its innards by opening up ventilation shafts and peering down gaping holes 30-storey deep imagining how it must have felt for our leather-clad world saviors in The Matrix. I have talked to its faucet, tested kung-fu moves on its walls, danced a jig-or-two, drafted pensive SMSes and even tried standing meditation in a corner.

It struck me how much my relationship with the bathroom (or rather reason for using it) showcases what I am going through in my life. When I was going through a personal crisis, I have spent lot a time in this bathroom hiding my grief from the world, trying to calm down my nerves, feeling protected in a way. And just the other day, I went through the whole motion without even giving as much as a thought and I worked my way quickly towards the exit. As I stepped out, I just happened to notice this difference - between my sojourns to the bathroom in difficult times and now. I have flushed it all, figuratively and literally.

Sweet in a salty evening

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Tue, 03 May 2011 19:01:00 +0000

After a particularly long day at work and meetings, I ended up frantically hailing cabs at a busy junction to get to my corner of peace. Those black and yellow (called kaali-peeli in local slang) metal bundles of joy kept evading me in frustrating ways. One pulled over right next to me, only to my exasperation to see it roll further few feet and stop next to a couple of homely looking aunties. Cab driver had exercised his discretion and left me with salty secretion on temples.

Then a seemingly mild-mannered Chachaa (former 'a' is pronounced quickly, later 'a' is pronounced elongated) cab driver let his benevolence fall over me. Unlike the usual demographics of Taxi Chachaas, he was neither a Muslim nor was he hailing from North India (becomes pretty apparent from accent). On our short journey back to my home (low fare --> another reason why I was being refused by others), Chachaa just happened to get himself in the wrong lane on a busy U-turn. After much cussing and hand-shaking at the driver in front of him, he could manage his way out gingerly among the red monster BEST buses and other nimble cabs. Stil hot under the collar, next he managed to set himself on collision course with a 4-wheeler contraption, which I have not seen in such huge numbers anywhere outside Mumbai; a scooter with a side-car. The 4-wheeler driver had much to say about Chachaa's eye-sight and driving skills even within the fraction of second in which the two vehicles hugged each other.

Chachaa was mutteing under his breath. I had had a long day, so just wanted to get out of the roads and shut out honking noises from my mind. Then, I dont know why, I just felt like making Chachaa feel a little better. Two battered souls fighting against unforgiving world inside same metallic combat vehicle. Exaggeration aparts, I offered Chachaa a glass of lassi at the end of our ride. He refused politely several times. But, I insisted. Earnestly. He gave excuse that there isnt much of parking space and his vehicle will get towed away. I offered to serve him lassi within the cab, he just had to stay inside.

Reluctantly he agreed. While I was fethcing him the drink, another passenger had already hailed him for next fare. The passenger was amused to see a guy dressed in business formals with a laptop bag on his shoulder bringing two glasses of lassi, placing them on the bonnet and sharing a drink with cab driver. He had started getting angry about why the driver was not turning on car's ignition. But this scene instantly changed his demeanor. A smile followed with a friendly allowance to Chachaa to enjoy his drink.

For a change, money could buy some genuine happiness. Chachaa looked satiated and went on his way muttering a shy thanks.

During my travels in Mumbai, I have had more than couple of instances when cab and auto-rickshaw drivers have gone out of their way to help / accommodate me. Once an auto-rickshaw driver let go of his fare because both he and I did not have requisite change. Another occasion I have been returned my laptop bag (containing passport and other extremely important documents, apart of-course laptop) which I had left in a cab. And this after I had earlier chided the driver for asking me money upfront at beginning of ride as he wanted to get gas filled. I did earn a lesson or two from him on how to judge people all the while unable to meet his eyes as I said thanks.

While there have been bad eggs too, these fellows had left me with an undescribale sense of feel-goodness and added to my amazement about this place called Mumbai. Somewhere within me maybe today I spontaneously felt like repaying a small gesture to that often maligned community.

RoaDJ warriors

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 11:18:00 +0000

April 2011 was stuffed with holidays. The last one being Good Friday and along with it comes eponymous long weekend. By some stroke of universe forces, I found myself on my way to Shirdi.

This was my second visit to Shirdi. This time around, both the config of demography (former - friends, latter - family and elders) of our entourage and mode of transport had changed (former - train, latter - SUV on road). The combination to give an altogether different experience than last time.

Riding by road all-night called for someone willing to take a seat next to driver and be very determined not to fall asleep. Given the config as told earlier, the onus surely and squarely fell on me. I haven't put up an all-nighter in a long time. Adding to the difficulty level of this task was the absence of any fitting music to keep both driver and me awake. Somehow driver had managed to carry with himself CDs of only ghazals. Little after 2am, sleep stealthily approached me with silent Ninja steps aided by the intoxicating deep-voiced Urdu of ghazals For some 15min in real time (and half a second in sleep time; and I think Nolan got it diametrically opposite in Inception), I doggedly dodged the Ninja's claws; just slipping out each time when it had me in its grip. But this dodging business was no help me survive till dawn.

I fished out my MP3 player to rescue. It had some peppy dance numbers from yesteryears (circa 2000-2008 AD) stored in its never-forgetful memory. Now, the part to make it mate with the vehicle's music system. Like some couples who aren't meant-to-be, this duo also could not get it along though they both needed each other. What next? I brought out a pair of Creative EP-630 inside-the-ear earphones and attempted to do a share-ware. EP-630 plugged in MP3 player and its two dangling ear-buds doing an Avatar-esque sahelu between me and driver. The road warriors got an ear-bud each. One ear taking in sounds of the long dark (k)night (I just couldn't resist writing this) and other ear hearing cymbals and electronic bass.

Now the show was on. I wanted to show-off my music collection and be a bit of DJ as well. So, I appeared to furtively click controls of MP3 player to show that I was customizing the music for my driver. In reality, all I was doing was turning the Shuffle mode ON and controlling volume in real-time. I was hoping that this would make a big impression on our driver. Well, some two hours later and lot of thumb twiddling, we managed to successfully keep the Ninja away with our Hatori-Honso-Samurai-sword-music. Being very near to our destination, driver decided to stop-over for tea for that last mile push. Over tea, I went into a chit-chat with him. He wryly said, "Return journey mein phir se yahi gaane mat bajana, kuch achcha aur nahin hai ismein?" There went my hope of being a good DJ (or human equivalent of www.pandora.com) into Recycle Bin. Maybe I will Restore it for more accommodating pair of ears and music taste.

The happy Facebook world

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 09:36:00 +0000

The world as it exists on Facebook is almost utopian.

Every person looks the best they could and always smiling in their photos
Somebody is traveling to Antarctica, somebody is skydiving, somebody cooked dinner with friends, somebody went to underpriviliged children's school, somebody just hung out with buddies
Somebody is getting married, somebody is having a baby shower, everybody comments "both of you look very good together"
Nobody feels jealous of anyone, every one "likes" what others are doing
Flame wars on political debates, religion etc die down even if some renegade has the guts to bring it up
Nostalgia rules, old photos of childhood, forgotten songs are all sprayed over
Very few people seek angst or existentialism, even when they do -- its subtle. A coded message here, a small poem there. And it doesn't disturb the fabric of this utopian world.
All smiling faces, everybody's life looks content with no worries

There was a time when movies sold us dreams. Its now our friends through their profile photos.

LOST and found

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 09:32:00 +0000

I am done with LOST. Completed the series yesterday night. I had earlier watched complete run of X-Files and Chanakya during 2007-08. Did watch Prison Break simultaneously as it was being telecast. I am keeping the game up with Fringe in similar manner.

Season 6 Finale of LOST was a decently satisfying end to the series. Much better than what X-Files had offered. Though I will always root for Mulder and Scully, the emotional connect with Jack, Hurley and Locke was much more deeper.

Running with LOST made me take break from watching movies. Can't pursue both along with other priorities on my time.

Rate My Life

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 08:31:00 +0000

The Internet knows everything. So I asked it to tell me how does it view my life (given that I spend a great percentage of my waking life interacting with The Internet)? Like a great counselor, it asked me some pointed questions. And then replied with Yoda-like wisdom:

I never imagined that my "sins" would outdo my "virtues", and that too by a good enough margin to cast any doubt over my leanings. :D For my accomplishments, Yoda had little to say. He is waiting to see what I do next.

Raw Deal

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 07:44:00 +0000

Learning to "deal" (as in transactions with business / monetary value) is fraught with having to go through emotional hammering. Well, "dealing" in personal life and relationships is not any easier also.

Suppose you go into a negotiation where you are squeezed out. The other party holds cards which impact your long term return. And the party knows that. Then, during intermediate level milestones, they wring you out by getting leverage on those Ace cards. You know that they are dealing it all unethically and unfairly. You cringe under your skin, your blood boils, your eyes want to turn daggers. And yet you let it go. You let them do the unfair thing. Let them bite into you and hold your head feigning dignity while in reality you have been shafted hard from behind. You grind your teeth and bite the steel. All for what? To protect your long term interest.

Can there be a time where loss of dignity or accepting grossly unfair intermediate negotiations becomes unbearable and one walks off the table giving damn to the longer term interest? How much is your stomach to digest all that is coming your way while concentrating on that fuzzy future pay-off? Do you take the call to tighten up your spine even when you know that you don't call the shots on this one? Do you bide your time for evening the score when you get an upper hand?

I am learning the hard way to hide my emotions when I get shafted like this. Probably I add a little more to the pleasure of the other party when they see me seething but unable to act upon it. Its tough to walk away with an air of dignity after getting looted. What do you portray - "it does not matter to me", "it shows what is your character and suits you well", "this is a trivial amount for me; I put it in your bowl as charity and I pity you that you squabble for such amount"? Or do you portray - "I am a good loser, hats off to you for playing this one to the 'T'"?

Grind, grind, grind my teeth. But unable to walk away from the negotiation. Longer term interest is the dangling carrot. Should I learn start playing poker and learn the black art of bluffing the other party into believing that I have a better hand than theirs? Lamentably, I mostly deal with open cards. And that is not how this game is supposed to be played.

Why code?

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 08:34:00 +0000

"I advised my sister to avoid software companies. Told her to try consulting companies. She anyways has to do MBA 1-2 years from now. Software companies will make her do coding." - A colleague referring to her younger sister studying at a top-rung NIT.

Another silent jab endured politely. Well, you can't tell someone else to change his/her point of view on such a subjective issue. Like Delhi vs Mumbai debates.

Google, Amazon and the likes now visit campuses at NIT. When I was in undergraduate, such treatment was reserved only for IITs. Seems now IIT students prefer to go to Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley rather than Google and Microsoft. Hence these software firms may have revised their recruitment policy to fill in their hiring. Some labor market dynamics this is.

So, why have these firms fallen out of favor? Is it because NPV of salary + bonus benefits of Google India is lesser than that of trading desk of Goldman Sachs? Or is it because it is now perceived on campuses that coding at Google is not as good a work content as that of making presentation decks in IBD of a foreign bank? My sense (stemming from historical observations) would give more credit to former reason.

And here we are not even comparing an Indian software services company vs foreign bank IBD. I am talking about Google, Amazon, Yahoo, Microsoft.

I guess it is more an emotional issue for me than an objective one. I have revered these firms. Why? Because some part of felt God-like to write code. I put some considerable effort to name that experience which satisfies pleasure-reward center in my brain. And answer was made of 2 parts - "problem solving" and being able to afford laziness.

Problem solving would mean getting a kick and satisfaction after finding a robust solution for a problem which can be dissected into logical steps. Even where there is no apparent approach available for dissection into logical steps (e.g. fuzzy logic), still developing heuristics which give reasonable results statistically. You can model sea-waves, smoke trails, light reflections, inference user intentions --- you can model nature and universe.

Being able to afford laziness is that you can automate tasks which are routine. This frees up time for being lazy or delving more into the core nature of problem rather than going about doing mundane work daily.

While I discovered these 2 aspects intuitively from my own experience, it was a huge satisfaction to see same conclusions coming from uber-Hacker Eric S. Raymond. A sense of validation coursed through me.

But what is so special about this? Can't you model complex financial transactions and be lazy by automating trading? These applications very much exist in real world business and finance software. Yes, they do. And this is where I still am confused. Why would I appreciate coding more for a web-search engine vs modeling Black-Scholes? What is the difference?

Maybe it comes from some deep antagonism towards profit-centered capitalism and vices of money. Do I hate money or don't want it in my life? Definitely not. I have reasonable aspirations and I do enjoy pleasures money can bring. Yet, invariably one starts serving money rather than other way round. Its that spirit of hoarding information and employing greater-fool theory in business transactions which possibly goes completely against the grain of hacker spirit. Like the infamous open letter of Bill Gates to Homebrew Club hobbyists.

And then I have had some lessons learned from Talisma days. Great product, we believed itself. We enthusiastically coded for it. Awesome working environment, freedom etc etc. It went bust. What happened? Did Product Management team failed to see market trends? Did Marketing and Sales goof up? The fact of the matter is that a great engineering product too can fail if business side fails; either by its own doing or failing to ward off excessive force thrown in by competitor (Netscape vs Microsoft, uber example). We all need breads on our tables. We all need to go out on those holidays. We all aspire to have a home with modern amenities. We want to give our kids a bright and secure future. These all can only be bought by money and not by any idealism. But is it required to fool the customers through marketing gimmicks, to wear the smiling-face when facing investors? Sadly, answer is yes. The system that enables movement of capital is so structured that there is no escape for all these pretentious vices of business side of things. Practically, I can only try to keep getting minimally involved in it.

Minimal involvement means not taking up managerial positions. Not being responsible for P&L. They wont let you have that. Maybe you yourself cant have it, when you see peers and juniors moving up to become your superiors. That competitive animal inside you, will it accept this?

Such is the nature of these thoughts that they navigate laterally rather than top-down.

2010

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 12:11:00 +0000

$ unmount /dev/2010
$ /dev/null > $HOME/.bash_history
$ echo "Hello NEW World!"
$ mount /dev/2011
$ exit

Heart, we will forget him [Emily Dickinson]

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 10:53:00 +0000

HEART, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you’re lagging,
I may remember him!

Trust

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 05:02:00 +0000

An old story...

Baba Bharti had a horse, which he was very fond of. Khadag Singh wanted to buy that horse, but Baba Bharti refused. Once Baba Bharti was going somewhere on that horse. A lame and ill man he met on the way asked him to drop him to some village on his way. Baba Bharti got down and helped the person mount the horse. It turned out that the person was Khadag Singh in disguise. He captured the horse. On realizing this, Baba Bharti asked Khadag Singh for just one thing and that was not to mention this incident to anyone else. Khadag Singh was surprised; he expected him to beg for the horse, at least ask for a price or something like that. He enquired Baba Bharti for the reason of his strange request. Baba Bharti replied saying that if people knew of this incidence, they would stop trusting anyone in need and would stop helping them.

Teaching the ultimate

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 03:57:00 +0000

In early times in Japan, bamboo-and-paper lanterns were used with candles inside. A blind man, visiting a friend one night, was offered a lantern to carry home with him.

"I do not need a lantern," he said. "Darkness or light is all the same to me."
"I know you do not need a lantern to find your way," his friend replied, "but if you don't have one, someone else may run into you. So you must take it."

The blind man started off with the lantern and before he had walked very far someone ran squarely into him. "Look out where you are going!" he exclaimed to the stranger. "Can't you see this lantern?"

"Your candle has burned out, brother," replied the stranger.

[My interpretation of moral of the story: Never get proud of your own righteousness]

An excerpt

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 17:43:00 +0000

Excerpt from a piece I wrote:

"..... It had been pouring incessantly in Mumbai and all along the Expressway on both up and down journeys. The torrent, which makes everything murky and dissolved. The river of water flowing on the car windows; creating mesmerizing visual effects on scenery of the lush green landspace outside. The world seemed so fluid through that looking glass. No rigidity, just fluid ease. And the vehicle, cutting through that sea. And I sitting in that cocoon, in a protective shell. Or maybe not a protective shell, but a restrictive shell as it did not allow me to merge with the fluidity outside. If I could dissolve myself with that scene. If I could just be gone with it......"

What is your nature?

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 15:27:00 +0000

Story 1:

The Scorpion and the Frog

A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back. The 
frog asks, "How do I know you won't sting me?" The scorpion says, "Because if I do, I will die too."


The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the onset of 
paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp "Why?" 

 Replies the scorpion: "Its my nature..."

Story 2:

Two monks were washing their bowls in the river when they noticed a scorpion that was drowning. One monk immediately scooped it up and set
it upon the bank. In the process he was stung. He went back to washing his bowl and again the scorpion fell in. The monk saved the scorpion
and was again stung. The other monk asked him, "Friend, why do you continue to save the scorpion when you know it's nature is to sting?"

"Because," the monk replied, "to save it is my nature."

The Wolves Within

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Sun, 30 May 2010 08:17:00 +0000

A grandson told of his anger at a schoolmate who had done him an injustice.

Grandfather said: "Let me tell you a story." "I, too, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But, hate wears you down and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times. It is as if there are two wolves inside me: one is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. But the other wolf is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights with everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of then try to dominate my spirit."

The boy looked intently into his grandfather's eyes and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?"

The grandfather solemnly replied, "The one I feed."

Buddha's algorithm

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Thu, 27 May 2010 21:28:00 +0000

Following is Buddha's algorithm on what should be "right speech". [The text is part of a Buddhist sutta (sutra) which can viewed here. The sutta takes jibes at motives of a Jain Digambar monk (nigantha) in trying to pull Buddha into a difficult disucssion and thus disparage his teachings. No way to ascertain the validity. Would like to explore if Jain texts take same jibes at Buddha. For now, I am only interested in Buddha's algorithm]

Algorithm:

[1] In the case of words that are known to be unfactual, untrue, unbeneficial (or: not connected with the goal), unendearing & disagreeable to others, do not say them.

[2] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, unbeneficial, unendearing & disagreeable to others, do not say them.

[3] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, beneficial, but unendearing & disagreeable to others, have a sense of the proper time for saying them.

[4] In the case of words that are known to be unfactual, untrue, unbeneficial, but endearing & agreeable to others, do not say them.

[5] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, unbeneficial, but endearing & agreeable to others, do not say them.

[6] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, beneficial, and endearing & agreeable to others, have a sense of the proper time for saying them.

In this algorithm, there are 3 variable : A (factual, true), B (benfecial) and C (endearing, agreeable). There should exist 8 cases for 3 variables. The sutta refers to only 6 conditions. It missed out on [!A B C] and [!A B !C] case. Assuming that all acceptable cases must have a True value for B, both these cases could also be acceptable. Exploring further:

[!A B C] : Something like what was done in the movie "Life is Beautiful". The father tells lies to his son which are endearing and are meant to keep son's moral high. Are these acceptable? I guess yes.

[!A B !C] : Something like reverse psychology to motivate someone. Army commander saying that all new cadets are deplorable and are wimps as they are not pushing themselves hard enough. Are these acceptable? I cannot make up my mind.

I just added to Buddha's algorithm!!!! :)

BTW, help me with [!A B !C] case if you can.

The Cucumber Sage

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Tue, 25 May 2010 05:48:00 +0000

Abbott of Han-hsin monastery in the
Thirteenth year of the Earth Dragon period (898)

My dear friend, the most reverend master Tung-Wang,
Old and ill, I lay here knowing that writing this note will be my last act upon this earth and that by the time you read it I will be gone from this life.

Though we have not seen each other in the many years since we studied together under our most venerable Master, I have often thought of you, his most worthy successor. Monks from throughout China say that you are a true lion of the Buddha Dharma; one whose eye is a shooting star, whose hands snatch lightning, and whose voice booms like thunder. It is said that your every action shakes heaven and earth and causes the elephants and dragons of delusion to scatter helplessly. I am told that your monastery is unrivaled in severity, and that under your exacting guidance hundreds of monks pursue their training with utmost zeal and vigor. I've also heard that in the enlightened successor department your luck has not been so good. Which brings me to the point of this letter.

I ask that you now draw your attention to the young man to whom this note is attached. As he stands before you, no doubt smiling stupidly as he stuffs himself with pickled cucumbers, you may be wondering if he is as complete a fool as he appears, and if so, what prompted me to send him to you. In answer to the first question, I assure you that Wu-Ming's foolishness is far more complete than mere appearance would lead you to believe. As for the second question, I can only say that despite so benumbed a condition, or perhaps because of it, still more likely, despite of and because of it, Wu-Ming seems to unwittingly and accidentally serve the function of a great Bodhisattva. Perhaps he can be of service to you.

Allow him sixteen hours of sleep daily and provide him with lots of pickled cucumbers and Wu-Ming will always be happy. Expect nothing of him and you will be happy.

Respectfully, Chin-Mang

After Chin-mang's funeral, the supporters of his temple arranged for Wu-Ming's journey to Han-hsin monastery, where I resided, then, as now, as Abbott. A monk found Wu-ming at the monastery gate and seeing a note bearing my name pinned to his robe, led him to my quarters.

Customarily, when first presenting himself to the Abbott, a newly arrived monk will prostrate himself three times and ask respectfully to be accepted as a student. And so I was taken somewhat by surprise when Wu-ming walked into the room, took a pickled cucumber from the jar under his arm, stuffed it whole into his mouth, and happily munching away, broke into the toothless imbecilic grin that would one day become legendary. Taking a casual glance around the room, he smacked his lips loudly and said, "What's for lunch?"
After reading dear old Chin Mang's note, I called in the head monk and asked that he show my new student to the monk's quarters. When they had gone I reflected on chin-mang's words. Han-hsin was indeed a most severe place of training: winters were bitterly cold and in summer the sun blazed. The monks slept no more than three hours each night and ate one simple meal each day. For the remainder of the day they worked hard around the monastery and practiced hard in the meditation hall. But, alas, Chin-mang had heard correctly, Among all my disciples there was none whom I felt confident to be a worthy vessel to receive the untransmittable transmitted Dharma. I was beginning to despair that I would one day, bereft of even one successor, fail to fulfill my obligation of seeing my teacher's Dharma-linage continued.

The monks could hardly be faulted for complacency or indolence. Their sincere aspiration and disciplined effort were admirable indeed, and many had attained great clarity of wisdom. But they were preoccupied with their capacity for harsh discipline and proud of their insight. They squabbled with one another for positions of prestige and power and vied amongst themselves for recognition. Jealousy, rivalry and ambition seemed to hang like a dark cloud over Han-shin monastery, sucking even the most wise and sincere into its obscuring haze. Holding Chin-mang's note before me, I hoped and prayed that this Wu-ming, this "accidental Bodhisattva" might be the yeast my recipe seemed so much in need of.

To my astonished pleasure, Wu-ming took to life at Han-shin like a duck to water. At my request, he was assigned a job in the kitchen pickling vegetables. This he pursued tirelessly, and with a cheerful earnestness he gathered and mixed ingredients, lifted heavy barrels, drew and carried water, and, of course, freely sampled his workmanship. He was delighted!

When the monks assembled in the meditation hall, they would invariably find Wu-ming seated in utter stillness, apparently in deep and profound samadhi. No one even guessed that the only thing profound about Wu-ming's meditation was the profound unlikelihood that he might find the meditation posture, legs folded into the lotus position, back erect and centered, to be so wonderfully conducive to the long hours of sleep he so enjoyed.

Day after day and month after month, as the monks struggled to meet the physical and spiritual demands of monastery life, Wu-ming, with a grin and a whistle, sailed through it all effortlessly. Even though, if the truth be told, Wu-ming's Zen practice was without the slightest merit, by way of outward appearance he was judged by all to be a monk of great accomplishment and perfect discipline. Of course . I could have dispelled this misconception easily enough, but I sensed that Wu-ming's unique brand of magic was taking effect and I was not about to throw away this most absurdly skillful of means.

By turns the monks were jealous, perplexed, hostile, humbled and inspired by what they presumed to be Wu-ming's great attainment. Of course it never occurred to Wu-ming that his or anyone else's behavior required such judgments, for they are the workings of a far more sophisticated nature than his own mind was capable. Indeed, everything about him was so obvious and simple that others thought him unfathomably subtle.

Wu-ming's inscrutable presence had a tremendously unsettling effect on the lives of the monks, and undercut the web of rationalizations that so often accompanies such upset. His utter obviousness rendered him unintelligible and immune to the social pretensions of others. Attempts of flattery and invectives alike were met with the same uncomprehending grin, a grin the monks felt to be the very cutting edge of the sword of Perfect Wisdom. Finding no relief or diversion in such interchange, they were forced to seek out the source and resolution of their anguish each within his own mind. More importantly, and absurdly, Wu-ming caused to arise in the monks the unconquerable determination to fully penetrate the teaching "The Great Way is without difficulty" which they felt he embodied.

Though in the course of my lifetime I have encountered many of the most venerable progenitors of the Tathagata's teaching, never have I met one so skilled at awakening others to their intrinsic Buddhahood as this wonderful fool Wu-ming. His spiritual non-sequiturs were as sparks, lighting the flame of illuminating wisdom in the minds of many who engaged him in dialogue.

Once a monk approached Wu-ming and asked in all earnestness, "In the whole universe, what is it that is most wonderful?" Without hesitation Wu-ming stuck a cucumber before the monks face and exclaimed, "There is nothing more wonderful than this!" At that the monk crashed through the dualism of subject and object, "The whole universe is pickled cucumber; a pickled cucumber is the whole universe!" Wu-ming simply chuckled and said, "Stop talking nonsense. A cucumber is a cucumber; the whole universe is the whole universe. What could be more obvious?" The monk, penetrating the perfect phenomenal manifestation of Absolute Truth, clapped his hands and laughed, saying, "Throughout infinite space, everything is deliciously sour!"

On another occasion a monk asked Wu-ming, "The Third Patriarch said, "The Great Way is without difficulty, just cease having preferences." How can you then delight in eating cucumbers, yet refuse to even take one bit of a carrot?" Wu-ming said, "I love cucumbers; I hate carrots!" The monk lurched back as though struck by a thunderbolt. Then laughing and sobbing and dancing about he exclaimed, "Liking cucumbers and hating carrots is without difficulty, just cease preferring the Great Way!"

Within three years of his arrival, the stories of the "Great Bodhisattva of Han-hsin monastery" had made their way throughout the provinces of China. Knowing of Wu-ming's fame I was not entirely surprised when a messenger from the Emperor appeared summoning Wu-ming to the Imperial Palace immediately.

From throughout the Empire exponents of the Three Teachings of Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism were being called to the Capitol, there the Emperor would proclaim one to be the true religion to be practiced and preached in all lands under his rule. The idea of such competition for Imperial favor is not to my approval and the likelihood that a religious persecution might follow troubled me greatly. But an order from the Emperor is not to be ignored, so Wu-ming and I set out the next day.

Inside the Great Hall were gathered the more than one hundred priests and scholars who were to debate one another. They were surrounded by the most powerful lords in all China, along with innumerable advisors, of the Son of Heaven. All at once trumpets blared, cymbals crashed, and clouds of incense billowed up everywhere. The Emperor, borne on by a retinue of guards, was carried to the throne. After due formalities were observed the Emperor signaled for the debate to begin.

Several hours passed as one after another priests and scholars came forward presenting their doctrines and responding to questions. Through it all Wu-ming sat obliviously content as he stuffed himself with his favorite food. When his supply was finished, he happily crossed his legs, straightened his back and closed his eyes. But the noise and commotion were too great and, unable to sleep, he grew more restless and irritable by the minute. As I clasped him firmly by the back of the neck in an effort to restrain him, the Emperor gestured to Wu-ming to approach the Throne.

When Wu-ming had come before him, the Emperor said, "Throughout the land you are praised as a Bodhisattva whose mind is like the Great Void itself, yet you have not had a word to offer this assembly. Therefore I say to you now, teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow." Wu-ming said nothing. After a few moments the Emperor, with a note of impatience, spoke again, "Perhaps you do not hear well so I shall repeat myself! Teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow!" Still Wu-ming said nothing, and silence rippled through the crowd as all strained forward to witness this monk who dared behave so bold a fashion in the Emperor's presence.

Wu-ming heard nothing the Emperor said, nor did he notice the tension that vibrated through the hall. All that concerned him was his wish to find a nice quiet place where he could sleep undisturbed. The Emperor spoke again, his voice shaking with fury, his face flushed with anger: "You have been summoned to this council to speak on behalf of the Buddhist teaching. Your disrespect will not be tolerated much longer. I shall ask one more time, and should you fail to answer, I assure you the consequence shall be most grave. Teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow!" Without a word Wu-ming turned and, as all looked on in dumbfounded silence, he made his way down the aisle and out the door. There was a hush of stunned disbelief before the crowd erupted into an uproar of confusion. Some were applauding Wu-ming's brilliant demonstration of religious insight, while others rushed about in an indignant rage, hurling threats and abuses at the doorway he had just passed through. Not knowing whether to praise Wu-ming or to have him beheaded, the Emperor turned to his advisors, but they were none the wiser. Finally, looking out at the frantic anarchy to which his grand debate had been reduced, the Emperor must surely have realized that no matter what Wu-ming's intentions might have been, there was now only one way to avoid the debate becoming a most serious embarrassment.

"The great sage of Han-hsin monastery has skillfully demonstrated that the great Tao cannot be confined by doctrines, but is best expounded through harmonious action. Let us profit by the wisdom he has so compassionately shared, and each endeavor to make our every step one that unites heaven and earth in accord with the profound and subtle Tao."

Having thus spoken the Son of Heaven concluded the Great Debate.

I immediately ran out to find Wu-ming, but he had disappeared in the crowded streets of the capitol.
Ten years have since passed, and I have seen nothing of him. However, on occasion a wandering monk will stop at Han-hsin with some bit of news. I am told that Wu-ming has been wandering about the countryside this past decade, trying unsuccessfully to find his way home. Because of his fame he is greeted and cared for in all quarters with generous kindness; however, those wishing to help him on his journey usually find that they have been helped on their own.

One young monk told of an encounter in which Wu-ming asked him, "Can you tell me where my home is?" Confused as to the spirit of the question. The monk replied, "Is the home you speak of to be found in the relative world of time and place, or do you mean the Original Home of all pervading Buddha nature?"
After pausing a moment to consider the question, Wu-ming looked up and, grinning as only he is capable, said, "Yes."

The Novice

noreply@blogger.com (Ankit) — Mon, 24 May 2010 10:35:00 +0000

In a time-honored story set in an ancient Himalayan kingdom, a novice monk was excited at the prospect of meeting his teacher for the first time. He was on fire with questions but sensed that this was not the time to ask them. Instead, he listened carefully to the teacher's instructions. They were brief and to the point. "Get up early tomorrow and climb to a cave you'll find at the top of this mountain. Sit from dawn to dusk and have no thoughts. Use any method you wish to banish thought. When the day is over, come and tell me how it went."

At dawn the next day the novice found the cave, made himself comfortable, and waited for his mind to settle. He thought that if he sat long enough it would become blank. Instead, his mind was crowded with thoughts. Soon he started to worry about failing the task he had been set. He tried to force the thoughts out of his mind, but that just produced more thoughts. He shouted at them to "Go away," but the words echoed noisily in the cave. He jumped up and down, held his breath, shook his head. Nothing seemed to work. He'd never known such a bombardment of thoughts in his life. At the end of the day he climbed back down, completely dispirited, wondering what his teacher's response would be. Perhaps he'd be dismissed as a failure, unsuitable for further training.

But the teacher just burst out laughing at the tale of his mental and physical gymnastics. "Very good ! You have tried really hard and done well. Tomorrow you should go back to the cave. Sit from dawn to dusk having nothing but thoughts. Think of anything you like all day long, but allow no gaps to occur between your thoughts." The novice was really pleased. This would be easy. He was bound to succeed. After all, "having thoughts" is what had been happening to him all day.

The next day saw him climbing with confidence up to his cave and taking his seat. After a little while he realized that all was not well. His thoughts started to slow down. Occasionally, a pleasant thought would come to mind and he would decide to follow it for a while. But soon it dried up. He tried to think grand thoughts, philosophical speculations, to worry about the state of the universe. Anything. He started to run low on things to think about and even got a little bored. Where had all his thinking gone ? Soon the "best" thoughts he could get seemed a little worn, like an old coat that had become threadbare. Then he noticed gaps in his thinking. Oh dear, this was what he had been told to avoid. Another failure. At the end of the day he felt pretty wretched. He'd failed again.

He climbed down the mountain and went to find his teacher, who burst out laughing again. "Congratulations ! Wonderful! Now you know how to practice perfectly." He didn't understand why the teacher was so pleased. What on earth had he learned ? The teacher was pleased because the novice was now ready to recognize something of real significance: You cannot force the mind . And if you try to , you won't like what comes of it.