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Thursday, November 15, 2012

Schrödinger's Relationship


Pursuant to my earlier requests, or think of them as 'directions for use', please allow for the uninterrupted playback of the song below, and I suggest you put in your earphones.
Also, in the beginning the song may seem not all that good, believe me it gets so much better, and it enhances this reading experience.



Oh and this article is not about physics. The next two paragraphs are simply necessary in order to explain the title of this post.


Schrödinger was a physicist in the early 20th century. He is most famously known for his thought experiment, popularly known as 'Schrödinger's Cat'.
While a full explanation of this experiment, and it's underlying mechanics would take a much longer and a much more boring and more uninteresting post (however so much you might find this one to be).

At its most trivial, although do read this carefully carefully, think of it simply as follows -
There is a cat. It is kept in an opaque, steel chamber. In that chamber, in a setup that insulates it from any interference from the cat, is a tiny amount of radioactive material - so tiny that in the course of an hour, there is equal probability of the radioactive substance releasing a single atom because of decay as there is of it not releasing it. This radioactivity, if present, is to be detected by a Geiger counter (essentially a device which detects nuclear radiation). On detecting radiation, the geiger counter is to initiate a mechanism that releases deadly hydrocyanic gas in the chamber, which would kill the cat.
Now at any given moment, without observation, the living status of the cat, is a smeared function. Smeared as in, it is a superposition of the cat's states of being either living or dead because of the probabilistic nature of the atom's decay inside the chamber. It is a simultaneously decreasing and increasing function of the probability of the cat's being alive or dead, respectively.
In pure layman's terms, theoretically, at any given moment, Schrödinger's cat is both alive and dead, at the same time.
Again, purely theoretically.

Of course, on observation, the cat's status of being either dead or alive can be determined.
This is simply one of the many seeming absurdities and parodoxes in quantum mechanics.

Moving on, as part of my increasingly absurd insights into human relationships, I propose 'Schrödinger's Relationship'.

When I was very young, there were husbands and wives, and there were other, single men and women who were friends.
It was a purely deterministic environment. You were either married, or you were friends.
I wasn't mature enough then perhaps, to know too much about love, its infinite traps and its own fallacies; or aware of attraction - physical, sexual or otherwise.
But alas, I did become aware eventually and bam! Four states - friends, love interests, girl/boy friends and spouses.
Later, as I became older and lost some of that little boy innocence, the interests category was infused with the first real probabilistic uncertainty - degrees of attraction. Of course, around this time, I was beginning to see the signs that friendships sometimes turned into attraction, which sometimes turned into girl/boy friend relationships, which had the potential to turn into marriage.

Lines were starting to get blurred everywhere. You get the idea.

This is all of course, quite general, and not really the subject of my post. The subject of my post is 'Schrödinger's Relationship'. This special little bugger is a real bitch.

Now, remember 'Schrödinger's Cat' -

There is a boy and a girl. They are kept in relative proximity, say they spend a period of time together, perhaps school, perhaps college, or work...perhaps chance brings them together. In that proximity, there are lots of stimuli - there are biological stimuli, psychological, spatial, visual, fuck even olfactory stimuli. There is an equal probability that these stimuli, in the course of these two individuals' interaction will cause them to engage in a blatantly obvious sexual relationship, and please do not misunderstand me, by sexual I do not mean the physical aspect of it, I use the term merely to distinguish it from the platonic alternative. And by blatantly obvious, I mean that everyone is aware of it's existence, including the participants. There is an equal probability of this happening, and that of it not happening.
But here in lies the rub.
This is still a probabilistic setup, and the relationship status of these two damned souls is smeared.
In pure layman's terms, theoretically, these two people are both just friends and dating at the same time.
Again, purely theoretically, the poor bastards.
Of course, on observation -

Wait...
This here is the real bitch of the matter.
Observation.

What if these two people, unaware, blissfully unaware, unobservant and innocent, carry on like this - smeared. Neither here, nor there.

In...limbo...oh.

Observation.
Here is where you have to make a choice. Here is where the beauty of a probabilistic function is forced into becoming a draconian deterministic choice. Either here, or there.
When one of the two decides to observe their relationship, casts an observant but critical look over it, it cannot exist in that glorious smeared state any more. It has to choose to either exist in one state or the other.

But to observe it or not to observe it, that, there, is the god-damned question.

To make it blatantly obvious, or not to. That, there, wins you the million dollars.






Sunday, August 19, 2012

Thapar! Now that I'm out... Le premier poste



There are people from Thapar you never met, or seldom ever... never talked or very seldom talked to.
These people who you feel a weird camaraderie with...

Acquaintances that never really turned into friendships...


Sure those friendships were something else entirely, but that's stuff for another, different post. This one, this post is about the people who you kind of knew, but really didn't...

It's a strangely comforting feeling that there are people like you in the world, hopeless romantics, repressed artists, people you think you would've been great friends with, but just weren't...

In Thapar I say, because I have a feeling that Thapar is a sort of place which (in my time atleast), attracted these people (not all mind you, but many)...these people who were always, in the true sense of the word, brilliant...brilliant as fuck.
Not the academic IIT kind of brilliant, nor the social LSR kind of brilliant, a very generic brilliance...
A very well rounded brilliance, if you will...

You all can relate with this post, you from Thapar who're reading this, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
A very repressed brilliance perhaps...

So okay, half the people I know in Thapar could've gone to an IIT, had we slaved for a few more months... So of course there were people there who were painfully aware of this and spent the next four years of their lives trying to desperately compensate for this fact. They compensated for this in various ways (including dating people from IITs...)
I'm not talking about these sorry fucks.

I'm talking about the people who made peace with the fact that this was where they were going to spend the next four years of their lives and they spent these four years being awesome as hell.
And they made those four years awesome.
In very different ways.
A very varied brilliance infact...

A brilliance that made a narcissistic man like me feel mediocre at times...
Only at times though...
I jest!

I'm talking about that amazing guitar player, that guy with the amazing voice, the girl who, when she danced silenced entire auditoriums... the football player who still trolls football forums not giving a fuck about what anyone says, the guy who got into microsoft and still had ten times more fun in four years than most people around him...that poetess, that guy who started out as a compensating could-be-IITian, but met wonderful people who made sure that when he left, there was no place in the entire world he would rather have spent the last four years in...
X-men who made entire hostels laugh and talk!
A very unusual brilliance...

These people, most of them you never really got to know, or not as well as you would have liked to.

But you share with them something sacred. You share with them years of shared experience, you share with them tradition. At the heart of it, you share with them a badge of honour!

It's a good feeling...
It's a hopeful feeling.






Friday, August 10, 2012

Her!


Her.

The word will lose meaning soon, I shall repeat it often. Her.

Her.

You know her. That one. Yeah.

Yeah, you remember that time you met her. What was that first conversation you had with her? God it was awkward! But it would turn into something so awesome so soon. You never knew!
Did you tell her? You were lucky if you did.
Or well, some of us were. The rest of us, we never told her.

Now, so many years later, we're so many years older.
Do you remember her?
Of course you do. You remember her, some days, or if you're one of the unlucky ones, you think of her everyday, that one bird you lost.
You smile when I call her that one 'bird'.

What have you become?
Are you the same man who fell in love with her? It's been so long. Do you even remember her?
Of course you do. You remember her, some days.

You have that song, you do!

Her.

And you listen to this song and you think about her.
Do you remember that time you met her? What was that first conversation you had with her?

What was the last conversation you had with her?
You remember that last conversation better than you remember the first one, don't you?

Do you remember she hurt you?
Now you do. Remember...

It's been years. It's fading, your memory of her. You don't remember her face. Like the rain, it falls and it washes away every day at a time.

Sometimes, as you plug in your earphones as you go to work/class in the morning, you think of her. As you're crossing the street, you think of her, crossing the street in the opposite direction, and you lock eyes, and you realise she misses you as much as you miss her.
But...
She's not really there, is she?

Yeah, but you don't remember her.

Plug in your earphones.
You know her. That one? Yeah...

Yeah, you remember the time you met her...







Sunday, June 10, 2012

The answer to life, the universe and everything is 42


I consider myself to be a logical person.
I guess when your entire education has closely revolved around finding logical solutions to problems, there is little else you can hope to be.
I tend to look for meanings behind things, try to reconstruct scenarios, work out otherwise mundane stuff just because I can't help it.
I also can't help but come to the logical conclusion, that there is no meaning to it all, the grand question of life, the underlying principle of existence, the reason why we are all here. It is just not there. There is no grand solution, no profound answer, no meaning...and for all that 'great' people say, they are usually as lost as we always have been.

Also, as part of my continuing experiments with good music and my more emotional outbursts on this blog, I'm embedding this video here -
Press the play button, then pause it and let it buffer. I'll let you know when it would be best to play it, a bit further ahead. (Thanks for listening to a horrendously demanding writer, as somebody he's lucky to have reading what he spews).

Back on topic, Douglas Adams, author of the brilliant and awesomely comical 'The Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy' had it right when he said that the smartest computer ever invented by any beings of the universe seemed to have calculated the answer to the ultimate question as '42'.
It is as coherent and as meaningful as an answer like this can possibly get.
I feel horribly frightened sometimes when I see people who I meet everyday, usually much older than I am, but with very little more insight into what it's all about! It confirms my recent belief that I might never find meaning in existence.

Oh, and you can play the video now, I guess. (It gets a bit loud near the end, so keep the volume sane.)

If it's all about getting ahead, getting the good degree, passing the right exam, bagging the perfect job - it has no meaning...
If it's all about finding the right person, having the cutest kids, living the perfect life - it never really happens. People are happy for a few years and then they either resign into a routine or break apart their families. Either way, it has no meaning...

The thing is, I don't think we can ever be happy with anything constant. We're wired to get bored. And there are some things you're just not allowed to get bored of.
You're not allowed to get bored of your wife, you're not allowed to get bored of your career, you're not allowed to get bored of sanity, you're not allowed to get bored of conformity, you're not allowed to get bored of normalcy.

I see some daily wage worker on the street. He's smoking a 'beedi'. He's smoking his death and staring out into nothingness.
He is not unaware of the fact that he is not rich. He is also not unaware of the fact that he will never be rich.
I see this daily wage worker smoking a 'beedi' staring out into nothingness and the trivialness of it all suddenly hits me. I could've been born him. And it's all fun and games to say, 'He could've made something of his life, or you could've made something of it were you born with his.'
Bullshit, that man's destiny was pretty much sealed the day he was born.
He is not unaware of the fact that if he dies a fraction more comfortable than he is now, he will have been immensely lucky.
And he'll still father seven kids before he dies. He knows more than any of us will ever know that life is a cruel fucking bitch. And he will still bring seven more sad souls into the world to live miserable lives.
Not miserable because of material reasons.
Miserable because that's the last laugh that life is going to have, I'm sure; she will, in your dying moments put on a wicked smile and say, 'Gotcha!'
'You had the perfect life, you had the cute kids, you earned your money, but man...I win!'
So if the result of the game is already fixed, where is the meaning in playing it, especially with rules that rarely even let us enjoy it.
In the current social construct of a good life, no one gets to have it.
I'm slowly venturing into the abstract now...
If it's such a game of dice, why are there even rules?
Rules favour players who follow them because the game rewards these players for not breaking them.

I want a better victory. I want a more complete and final triumph than any that I can get playing with these rules.

My victory will perhaps not be generally acknowledged to be one, but in my dying moments, when life finally reveals herself to me, I want a victory that ensures she'll smile and say, 'Well played.'

And then I will say to her, 'Well tried.'