Finding Nemo

Last night I was telling the bedside story to the younger love of my life, when she asked – “How do you identify the leader of the troop in a war – particularly in a warzone where a lot of people are fighting against each other”? While I explained to her how the modern warfare works and how the generals lead the army today, I also imagined the warcraft of yesterday and started to describe the vivid imagination fueled by the magnanimity of the movies like Bahubali, Bajirao Mastani and Padmaavat. The job was simple as we both had watched the movies together. And she understood all that I told her. Yet a question from her made me fumble – Do all the warriors have a flag on their chariot, and what do they mean? In my research for the answer, I stumbled upon the information that I would like to share with you too. In the Viraat Parva of Mahabharata, Arjuna under the disguise of Brihannala plays the role of the charioteer for Prince Uttara of Virata kingdom. Under the condition...

जाग उठा हूँ मैं, उस बेदर्द नींद से, जो हमेशा साथ में, कितने सारे सपने ले आती है। उन्हीं टूटे सपनों की टीस, अब भी महसूस होती है, उन्ही अनकहे सपनों में ना जाने, किस किस से बात होती है। इन्हीं सपनों में, सारी ज़िन्दगी उतर आती है, कभी शिखर पे ले जाती है, कभी खाई में पटक जाती है। हर सपना मुझे, घाव नया दे जाता है, ज़मीन के नीचे, और नीचे, दफ़न कर जाता है। सपने सच नहीं होते, यह मैंने सीखा है, पर सपने ना देखूं, यह भी कहाँ हो पाता है। सपने मन का आईना हैं, तभी तो मैं सपने देखता हूँ, और हर बार चोट खाने पर, आंसुओं का मलहम रखता हूँ। जाग तो चूका हूँ मैं, उस बेदरद नींद से, पर फिर से आगोश में लेने को, चले आ रहे हैं, यह कांच के सपने।

Lately I have been consumed in the learning of the concepts and algorithms for Machine Learning – a branch of Artificial Intelligence. While dueling the ideas and algorithms and the magical mathematical notations that allow us to understand the existing patterns and enabling the predictions, a very interesting thought came to observation. Most of the prediction algorithms required us to understand the test scenarios and then create clusters based on measurable parameters. This information and the clustering algorithm trains the system or in other words develops a stereotype in the minds of the observer. Based on the stereotypes, the observers start observing and then deciphering every observation henceforth. While the strategy works amazingly well when it comes to innate objects, I see a big trouble in extending the same to the thoughts getting generated in an individual. No thoughts in an individual are discreet and are neither mutually exclusive so that we can apply them to...

जननी तुम हो महान, जीवन उपजे तुमसे ही,  और सिंचित हो तुमसे ही,  जननी तुम हो महान।  हो वह कुसमय, या हो किसी का कुचक्र, शेरनी बन करो तुम रक्षा,  जननी तुम हो महान।  ममता की छाँव फैलाती हो तुम,  कभी प्रेम से तो कभी दंड से, पथ दिखलाती हो तुम,  जननी तुम हो महान।  चाहें हो संतान का अभिमान, या हो परिवार का स्वाभिमान, स्वयं को त्याग कर सबकी बनती हो आन, जननी तुम हो महान।  हमसे होना न रुष्ट कभी,  हमसे जाना ना दूर कभी,  तुम्हारे बगैर ना हैं हम सभी,  जननी तुम हो महान। 

I am appalled at the recent incidents in Bangalore and New Delhi – where the mob took a new meaning for celebration and enjoyment. I am at a loss of words for the direction we are all headed. It has been apathy of the women or the females to be at the receiving end when the male tries to show his superiority. I heard something similar or even more derogatory sometime earlier – “ What happened to us ”. Interestingly I had been pondering over this situation since late December 2016 when I read Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar. I happened to watch Chandraprakash Dwivedi’s movie Pinjar as well. The transformation from Puro to Hamida was enough for me to understand the cruelties that the females withered for the alpha male. However, what we easily forgot was the transformation of the same Hamida into a tigress when another girl – “Lajo” was kidnapped in similar circumstances. Hamida or Puro made sure that Lajo does not goes through the same scenarios like her. Even when Puro chooses to lead her...

In my previous article - " Vyasa's agony ", we saw that even at the end of a great epic, a great composition, the composer himself is not happy and is frustrated. Why is this happening? We saw a few arguments in my last post. Let's try to probe further. Think, when you take up a daunting task or any challenge. And then you work hard and take the efforts to the completion of the task. How do you feel? Satisfied? Happy to have completed the challenge? But in the case of Mahabharata, Vyasa is neither happy nor satisfied. A composer, having composed a great verse is still not satisfied - and has something more to tell? What could it be? The answer lies in the name of the composition itself - "Jaya". The composition was cleverly named as Jaya or the victory, without signifying over what or over whom. Almost every story within the great epic, depicts the clash of ideologies within the minds of the characters. Shouldn't it be safe to assume, t...