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Archive for March 2008

Dreaming again 2: Profs, admin and acads

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It’s raining outside, mildly though. We are all here, attending the lecture. It’s just the rain but I often wonder if even a natural calamity would give you a day off here at IIT! Classes need to be at the prescheduled time come what may.

Here, most of the administrative work is handled by the faculty. And going by the general feeling, these academicians often find it too hot to handle. Their performance speaks for it! But when it comes to acads, they are right up there. Lectures take place on time. Exams are never postponed. Labs and presentations progress smoothly. This leads to the obvious question: Why? Why the performance of dean acads is bound to be far better than that of dean establishment (say)? Wait a sec, why am I treading this path anyway?

What’s the chit-chat between praji and jj? I guess it’s about some Sodhi girl. Don’t they have something else to talk about? Let me fool around a bit. Ha! I just gathered Kumar Sir’s attention by sneezing. Sitting beside me they both were caught in the act.

“…If you have 100’s of occurrences of the same word…its unlikely unless you put the same data…the next need for using vector quantization properly…”

What a disturbance. Kumar Sir just glared at me while I was trying hard not to chuckle. As he dictates a lemma let me gather my thoughts. By the way what the hell is a Markov model?

Let me put a few words about praji. As the name suggests he is a sardar. I tell you this coz there is a legend related to it. In the very first year, a quadruplet became very famous. “praji, gd, nappy and dinky. Theirs were an eat-drink-sleep together kind of a gang, nicknamed “Sardar Chaukdi”. The fun lie in the fact that dinky’s full name is rahul shetty. I just teased praji about that Sodhi girl. He is frowning quiet bad.

JJ requires a special mention for he has surprised us all once again. He flew back today morning. All this after he got us convinced that he won’t be back anytime before two weeks. Sometimes I think he likes to fool around with people and surprise them just for the fun of it.

“…obeying the standard stochastic constraints where probability…called an observable Markov model…”

Gullu just cracked one on me. It’s becoming increasingly hard to control the laughter.

That left me wondering as to why the row sum, in a stochastic matrix, should always be equal to one.

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Written by arpitgarg

March 31, 2008 at 6:51 am

हकीकत

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दिल क्यों रो रहा है, मुझे नहीं पता। पसीज उठा हूँ मैं आज, न मालूम क्या करूँ। भाग जाऊं यहाँ से या सामना करूँ। यह हकीकत है जो भयानक रूप धारण कर मेरे सामने प्रकट हुई है।

यह रेलवे स्टेशन का दृश्य है। दिसम्बर की सर्दी भरी रात है। सुबह के चार बजे हैं। मैं इंजन की तरफ पीठ करके बैठा हूँ। पीछे से काफी शोर आ रहा है। वैसे तो कड़ाके की ठंड है, पर अचानक ही मुझे गर्मी लग उठी है। एक हाफ-स्वेटर में मुझे टनों ऊन की सी तपन महसूस हो रही है।

कारण? कारण है मुझे अपने सामने दिखती दरिद्रता जो नग्न्ता पर मजबूर हो रही है। एक छोटी बच्ची फूलों की सेज पर सोने के बजाए नंगे फर्श, पर गत्ते के डिब्बे का बिस्तर बनाये सो रही है। तन पर कोई गर्म वस्त्र नहीं, ओढे हुए है तो सिर्फ मोमजामा।

उसके सामने मैं खुद को गर्म चादर ओढे पाता हूँ। जो ठंड मुझसे बर्दाश्त नहीं हो रही थी, अब महसूस ही नहीं हो रही। क्या यही हक़ीक़त का असर है? क्या है उस नन्ही सी गुड़िया का भविष्य? दूसरी तरफ मैं अपने आप को देखता हूँ। हर्षोल्लास करते हुए। मजे करते हुए। यह उचित है या अनुचित, मुझे नहीं पता। पर क्या हमें अपने आप से यह सवाल नहीं करना चाहिए, ऐसा क्यों?

क्या वह बच्ची भगवान की देन नहीं? क्या हम और वो बराबर नहीं? क्या हम एक ही मालिक की औलाद नहीं? मुझे पता है कि आप में से कुछ मुझ पर हँसेंगे। सोचेंगे नहीं। क्योंकि अभी तक आपने हकीकत को देखा तो है, पहचाना नहीं।

कृपया हक़ीक़त को जानें और आगे बढ़ें ताकि इस धरती पर से दुःख और दर्द मिट जाएँ और कुछ ऐसा समां बने जो हकीकत को सुनहरा बना दे।

Written by arpitgarg

March 28, 2008 at 11:28 am

बकरी

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एक मैला कुचैला छोटा बच्चा। उसके लिए जिंदगी का मतलब सिर्फ भूख और दुःख था। पटरी के किनारे बनी झोपडी ही उसका घर थी। लंगड़ी माँ ट्रैन मैं भीख मांगती थी। बड़ा भाई ट्रैन में झाड़ू लगाकर पैसे जुटाता था। कभी-२ दो वक़्त का खाना भी नसीब नहीं हो पाता था। इस सब दुःख दर्द में उसकी साथी थी, उसकी प्यारी बकरी। वह दिन भर उसके साथ खेला करता था। दोनों एक दूसरे को समझते थे। एक दिन खेलते-२ बकरी का पाँव पटरी पर फसी डोरी में अटक गया। उसी वक़्त सामने से ट्रैन आने लगी। बकरी चीख रही थी। बच्चे ने बकरी को देखा। वह डरा नहीं, दौड़ पड़ा। उसके मन में बस एक ही सवाल था कि आज वह यह नहीं होने देगा। वह पूरी रफ़्तार से दौड़ रहा था। लम्बी छलांग लगाकर उसने बकरी को पकड़ा और दूर झटक दिया। खुद दूसरी ओर कूद गया। कुछ ना होते हुए भी आज उसके चेहरे पर बड़ी चमक थी। आज वह विजेता था। उसने अनहोनी को टाल दिया था। वह यह दोबारा होने भी कैसे दे सकता था। उसे याद था कि कभी इस बकरी की जगह उसने अपने पिता को कटते देखा था।

Written by arpitgarg

March 28, 2008 at 11:27 am

इंतज़ार

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इस पत्र के पटल पर दिल की इबारत है लिखी,
इसी को मेरा प्रेम पत्र समझना तुम सखी|

दो-चार बार जो तुम मुझसे मिली,
दिल के आँगन में कली नई खिली।

नोट्स के बहाने हुए पहली मुलाक़ात,
उसी पल हमने अपना दिल दिया तुम्हारे हाथ।

चांदी के सिक्कों सा तेरा तन,
तेरी खिलखिलाहट और यह चंचल मन।

मेरे इशारों को तू न समझ पायी,
या मेरे खुदा तेरी दुहाई।

दिल की बात कहने की कच्ची है उमर,
पर जब भी कहूँगा तुझे ही कहूँगा ऐ जानेजिगर बन मेरी हमसफ़र।

इस दिल के बहकाने पर न चलूँगा मैं,
प्यार की कसौटी पर खुद को परखूँगा मैं।

हाय हैलो का यह प्रेम नहीं है,
इससे आगे भी न बढ़ सका यह भी सही है।

जब मैं बन जाऊंगा इस काबिल,
कि सकूँगा तेरा हाथ थाम, तभी समझूंगा तुझे अपनी रंगीन शाम।

बस तब तक मेरा इंतज़ार करना,
वरना …

Written by arpitgarg

March 28, 2008 at 11:23 am

Posted in Love, Poetry

Tagged with , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dreaming again

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The music is very loud. The crowd is dancing in fun and frenzy. I can’t see much amidst the cigarette smoke, save the belly of my dance partner. What a unique belly button. Not round as all are, somewhat square as one may call it. Unique but stunning. No point hiding it, belly button is what turns me on the most. Suddenly the music has stopped. I can hear some humming. The belly button has moved away becoming round, making the belly flat and black.

Where was I? Oh! Yes, now I remember. Kumar Sirs lecture. Have I been day dreaming again, about yet another belly button? Oh my God! I have been.

“…where ar = The LPC’s of the reference and at will be the LPC of test…”

“What was all this junk”? Professor Kumar is trying his best to explain the concepts to us, but believe you me; I am getting none of it. Not that I am trying to. When I look around all I can see is 50 faces of people from Mars. I try to make a poker face, trying to save my emotions from spilling. Like I have any of them!

The guy sitting on my right, two rows ahead. I don’t know his name. He was one from the masters’ course. Why I or for that matter any of my bachelors’ colleague won’t know his name is a matter that I don’t want to rake up right now, but will take it up later.

So this guy, donning the thinnest nose I have ever seen is moving back and forth; trying to stay awake. What’s that outside the window? At a certain distance, I can see a dupatta, pink in colour. The more I try to focus, the more I can’t. The curtain in the room is trying hard to obstruct my view. No matter. I can still make up for the lost opportunity by using the power of my imagination. Alas! What am I turning into?

Enough of this monkey business. Let’s come back to the class room. Dada bond is sitting in the second row, extreme left, with his bag over his shoulder. Now that we have come to Dada bond, let me tell you why we call him bond. He is one of a kind. I remember during our first year at college when I was trying to grasp the basics of C. I still shiver  to think of those days. At that time he used to hack our accounts. A lot of time his mail account was blocked by admin owing to unusual activities. That was the official reason though. Whatever, as usual he is with his bag on and jotting down each and every dot of chalk that Kumar Sir is making on the board. Why is he making all these notes in this last semester? It seems a bit unusual to me, but who cares.

Yes, I forgot to tell you, this is my last semester at college. 8th semester. 4 years have passed. I have always heard that time flows very fast. But it’s only when such moments  arrive that you realize the gravity of the statement. It seems just like yesterday, when I first came to college. Now two months hence, I would be leaving all of this for a new place.  But all these thoughts can wait, the lecture is important.

“…100 such values/sec will be streaming from source…we have to further do the analysis of the data by cepstral analysis…”

Sorry Pa! I can’t handle this at all. About Professor Kumar himself. He is one of the senior faculty members of CSE  dept. Ah yes! I am in Computer Science Dept. This Kumar Sir is also one of a kind. His lecture may fall short of technical details but none that he speaks can be grammatically wrong. It all has to be articulated to the T. Current course, comes under his research interests. Thereby we are being subjected to two hours of agony or as they say double delight.

I am feeling bit like a goose. Coz while writing all this, I have to look once a while at the projector board and nod my head several times to imitate that I am following the lecture.

Well there is this lady in the class, the only one enrolled for this course (I really liked this line “in this course”, like the situation is any better otherwise). Let’s call her Lata. She is sitting just in front of me or better still I came and sat just behind her. She is the only one from Venus in the room.

Oh! Sir might have a hint that I am not following the lecture. Let me nod vigorously.

Back to Lata. I call her lady, coz she seems to be quite elder to us, having enrolled for a PhD. Now that I have come to her, let’s finish it off.

I first saw her in Preetam Sirs class. Preetam Sir, deserves special mention and I will come to him later in detail. I saw her and like we all here are, concentrated more on her than the lecture or the projector board. After these four years at a sex starved college, I am not shy anymore staring the opposite sex, if I see one. This went on for a week till I found out that she was married. Oh! One more of my infatuation breaks.

It’s hard for me to understand how one can continue studies even after marriage. Why deny those sweet moments of cuddling and love for such boring lectures. But I guess that’s my frustration speaking. Gaining knowledge is essence of life and can be done at any point in life. She is married but to still gaze at her like that? Maybe I see her as a ray of hope at the very end of the tunnel.

Written by arpitgarg

March 19, 2008 at 11:46 am

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