un-presi-dented

Economists.. shall remain Economists!!!

2010-10-27T01:57:00.000-07:00

"An economist is a surgeon with an excellent scalpel and a rough-edged lancet, who operates beautifully on the dead and tortures the living." - Nicholas Chamfort

"Ask five economists and you'll get five different answers; six if one went to Harvard." - Edgar Fiedler

Macro Policy Implications of Behavioural Economics

2010-04-30T10:49:00.001-07:00

Optimism and pessimism are both contagious states of mind. Was reading a paper in the EJ of the first quarter and suddenly fell in love with Economics all over again. That's good news right?! Hopefully!

Just wondering if we can make policies other than just monetary and fiscal based on this theory. Seems it could work...

Open to discussions, in fact looking forward to!

rhymes on a sunny afternoon...

2010-04-18T09:30:00.000-07:00

It would be better
If birds of the same feather,
Flocked together...
For when odd birds gather,
times turn less happy more sadder.

It will stay that way ,
If it was love anyway,
He wouldve stayed forever ,
If it had been love, ever...
But because it was so never,
The parting was clever.

Those were sunny days when these lines he wrote,
Il stay even when all go,
Just dont part with me ,though,
I may seem to want so.

But now the days are bettered,
I can live on my own, unfettered,
By expectations of an aimless soul,
Bridged to freedom without a toll.

Economics: A Fairy Tale?

2010-04-01T10:33:00.000-07:00

The most striking similarity between Enid Blyton's fairy tales and the Classical Economists' theories is that there is no role of money in the system!!!

Haagu Sundari AAr Fart Maharajer Biye

2010-03-28T04:42:00.000-07:00

This is a short story in bengali .My first bengali short story dedicated to my bengali roommate -sudeshna

Ek Je chilo raja .taar bishaal rajyo.Taar haathi shaale koti koti haathi.tarr gora shaale anek gulo gora.Aar bishal ekti Shaino. raajyo naam chilo chi chi rajyo.Rajar naa chiilo Fart maharaj.Fart maharajer videhsi naamero ekti kaaran.Onar baba pedo Maharaj Biyo karlen ekti videshi Raj konna ke-Stinky Princess.Taai engrijei naam deya holo Raj Putro k.Bado maharajer Ekdin khub jor haagu pelo.Paykhana gharei haagu shonge praan berie gelo.Akale mrityur kaarane singhasane Fart rajkumar ke boshte holo.Shinghasane baso shahaj na.Prajader shaamne fart kara khub lajja janak bishoy.Aar toh kono upay chilo na,taai eta shobche bhalo solution mane holo.
Ek bachor holo ekhun rajar jono ekti ranir darkar mone holo praja der.Tai ekti ranir khoj shuru holo.Anek gulo shipahi ashe paasher deshe khujte berolo khoj nite.Paasher desher gandho Maharajer kanna chilo haagu shundari.Shipahira eshe jana raja ke.
Ek ti sundar Basant kaler dine,fart maharaj berolen .Fart maharajar niyom chilo ek ghanta par par fart karar .Raj kaanar shonge dekha hobe taai shaara raat one fart karechen khushite.Gorar pithe boshe ekti jore fart kare tak bakiya gora chutiye raj kanno ke dekhte choll len.5 ghnata aar 10 ti paader pore oni nammle gandho rajar mahale.Raj kanno chute chute paikhanaye jaachilo.Onio pichon pichon gaechen paikhana dike.Okhane darjar niche chilo ekti fank.Fank diye dekhlen haagu sundari pat pat kare haagu kore chole che.Dekhe onar khub aanando hoyeche.Mane bhablen aar amar banshe keyo paikhanaye koshto peye maara jaabena.Aei Devi amar Jibon sukhod karedibe.
Aar samay na nashto kore oni biye prastab niye gechen Gandho Rajar kaache.Kintu Gandho raja toh aage theke haagu sundarir biye thik kare rekhe chilo Potty maharajer Shonge.Potty Maharajer Mahale prakhyat Designer ra Bishaal Potty toiri kore chilo.Oni chaiten je Onar meye Ke Jibone konodin dukhon na hoy.Je hetu Poty te Raj kanna shobche beshi samay kaato taai Paikhana ta sundar thaakle or dukho hoto na je badir paikhana chede jaa che.
Kintu haagu sudarir Potty Maharaj k pochondo chilo na.Jakhan haagu sundari Fart maharaj ke dekhlo paikhana theke beriye,prathom dekhatei onar preme pode gelo.Babar ichcha haagu sundari jaanto taai chankrani ke diye prem patra likhe patha lo Fart Maharaj ke.Fart maharaj patro peye aanande aabar bodo fart korlen.Onio shaino ke diye chitthi pathalen je raate nite aashben.
Jakhon Raatri holoHaagu sundari mahaler shaamne eshe daariye gelo.Fart maharaj o gora niye eshe gelen.Haagu sundari ke dekhe ekta fart kore fellen.haagu sundari lajjaye chokh nichu kare nilo.Du joni gorar upare boshe Chi Chi Rajyote Jaachilen.Kintu aaro ek jon chilon oder pichone.Gandho rajar Mantri –aar haagu sundarir premi-Bomi Seth.Fart maharajer gandhor aawaj sune o ghum theke uthe gelo.Aaro ek du to shipahi k Maharaj ke Khabar dite pathiye ,o pichone cholte lagla.Ek du ghantar parei Gandho maharajare shaina Fart Maharje gorar kaache aashte laglo.Haagu sundari bhoy chote haagu karte shuru kare dilo.Haagur gondho sukhe Fart maharjo jor kore fart korlo.Farter gondho suke pichoner shop shipahi palate shuru karlo .Tokhoni Fart maharj Chi Chi bhumi te dukhe porlen aar Gandho maharaj pichon Roe gelo.
Chi Chi Rajyo te Khub aando Chilo Shei din.Prajader jonno bodo bhoj holo aar ekti nutun Paikhana Khola holo prajar jono.Anande shb Haagu kareche nutun Paikhanae.Aamio chilam she din.Eta Haagu jibone dekhi ni.
Haagu sundari aar fart maharaj tokhontheke BhaloBhabe aanek din Rajj karlen chichi rajyo te.

You Know You are an Economist When

2010-03-24T02:16:00.000-07:00

You continually include "optimize", "budget (set)" and "limit tends to" in your vocab without even realizing it
You trying figuring out if you have smooth, convex preferences
You wonder if and how much to save, keeping in mind "The Paradox of Thrift"
You make Economics jokes (you reach heights when you can incorporate "neighbourhoods" and "open balls" in the jokes- if you don't understand this, don't bother, you are safe!)
People around you understand your jokes or give a puzzled frown
You assume and predict
You claim to understand most phenomena in the world with an "epsilon" error term
Epsilon is sufficiently small to suit your model but big enough to create a major disturbance
Data doesn't suit your fancy models
"In the Long Run we are all dead!" is knowledge to you!
P.S. This list is not exhaustive, suggestions and additions are welcome

Pinged from my blog.

"Peace" of Advice

2010-03-24T01:34:00.000-07:00

If you don't want to be a rebel don't go to Presidency. If you are a rebel, try not doing a Masters in Economics.

P.S. Life is more important than your CV- so I'd say go to Presi anyway!!

Ramblings

2010-03-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

Why do people want to believe in a certain utopia that even they don't understand? Do Presidentians have this trend or is it only my strange bro who's a pseudo-antel?

P.S. Am a Keynesian n yes, Rational Expectations doesn't make sense!

General Equilibrium: Fair Distribution of the Soul

2010-03-17T13:42:00.000-07:00

If we believe that a soul is eternal and exists forever, how do we account for the ever increasing population size? Are the souls being split and therefore souls in people are tending to zero?

Question that recurred to me in today's Micro class- fair Pareto Optimal distribution anyone? ;)

P.S. The concept's taken from somewhere- don't remember the author or the book.

solitary ramblings

2010-03-12T11:09:00.000-08:00

I feel melancholy today,
Remembering the chattery evenings sitting on the college stairs,
Flooded by the memories of your smiling face and laughter,
Those walks beside the swimming pool,
And the ones we had across the howrah bridge.
The hot gulab jamuns that melted in our mouths,
The gasp at the sight of a crisp round kachori frying in a pan on the footpath,
Or the steaming lemon tea that fell on your puchka watered hands.
The booksellers still sell their books,
People still run on those busy streets,
The honming and concking continues unnoticed.
The only thing I miss is those happy days....with you.

No,Not you ,as you are now,
You ,the person you were back then,
When I was your friend.
Not acquanitance,
Not someone you'd call when you needed some odd job done,
But someone you'd miss on quiet winter evenings with the mellowing sun.........

Higher and higher with Macro

2010-03-07T01:45:00.000-08:00

"Economic Advisors to the Prime Minister are useless!!"

That's precisely what our Macro Prof. and Sergant and Wallace would have to say. ;) :p

A Little of Life at this End

2010-03-02T11:41:00.000-08:00

After 14 days of working days at a stretch our prof. says "Holidays are bad, they screw your routine. Discipline is important!" And hence on the 15th day i.e. on Holi, we got homeworks which we were supposed to schedule around our class timings.

Microeconomics is mostly math... oh am sorry, it's all math. I quote our prof. "Don't ask me for economic intuitions!"

Econometrics II - "Unless you go through the papers in this area, you will not get the hang of it. Doesn't mean if you read them you will or I know!"

Because Some Things Can Not be Contained

2010-02-18T11:58:00.000-08:00

...And there comes a day, when you are so happy, your heart breaks into a million billion pieces...

End of an Era?

2010-01-14T06:19:00.000-08:00

A chat transcript from my Gmail chat history:

we cared abt "silly" politics

strange ideas

surreal street dramas

presi 2 us wasnt a college, it was an experience, an idea that we all cherish

how i wish i could go back, NOW!!!

memories..

2009-10-20T06:41:00.000-07:00

17:53 hrs IST, Tuesday, the 20th of October, 2009
There’s a political parade snaking its way forward on the lane in front of my house, the leaders shouting their voices raw with (the usual) “jobaab chaai, jobaab daao”s. I am standing on my balcony, looking at the throng of bodies, most of them in various stages of disinterestedness. Some, in fact, are casually laughing and chatting amongst themselves, as if they’re out on a leisurely evening walk. I am looking at them alright, and yet I am not.. The vision that forms in front of my eyes is of a sweltering July mid-afternoon, that time of the year when uncountable droplets of sweat form on the forehead and roll down to the chin faster than a handkerchief can be whipped out. I remember that procession very well, that group of students of all shapes and sizes, all streams and ages, all backgrounds and upbringings.. I remember the parched throats, the ringing slogans, the raging fires in the hearts of the hundred strong army of youth at 86/1, College Street.. I remember the awe that passers-by regarded us with, the look of surprise on the taxi-drivers’ faces at the sheer volume of our incensed voices, our frenzied clapping of hands, out stamping feet.. And as the train of people vanish round the bend, and as memories fade, one slogan lingers on.. “ Loraai loraai loraai chaai, / loraai korey baachte chaai ! / Ei loraai lorbe k ? / Tumi, aami, aabar k… “

Presi Days- Looking Back

2009-10-05T12:28:00.000-07:00

After a year of anxiety, 2 months of touring the country, a day of heartbreak and 20 days of sheer depression, here i am, scribbling something perhaps rather immaterial on a blog page where i thought i might be ashamed to write on again...

It's been about 3 months since i left home, 2 months since i left calcutta for the place i really really wanted to be in. Presidentians dream big... i dunno if it's talent or just luck that most of them end up to be pretty well settled.

A month before coming to IGIDR, Ritika and me were at HCU- awesome campus, perhaps good teachers but i hated it there. Dunno why exactly- there were too many reasons. But it was mostly i guess the fact that the people around lacked the antel way if dressing that we are used to. Well, don't get me wrong- i just mean to say, irrespective of the pathetic sense of fashion we Kolkatans have (ya now i can say that coz am in mumbai n in a slightly higher fashion plane), there was a charm in the way Presi people carried themselves and that wasn't present in even 1 person out of a batch of about 80 there. There were people conversing non-stop in Malayli n Tamil and yes, no telugu. The food sucked big time... In short, you find nothing good when you are in a sad set of mind.

Then on one of those lazy yet tired worn out yet karenge ya marenge afternoons, IGIDR happened. Perhaps you all know this is where i wanted to come to coz i thought the academic pressure would be the least here and the corporate jobs really good!!

It's been 2 months, am where i wanted to be, involved in the Placement Committee, perhaps doing what i would wanna do a year back. But still there's a void. When i talk about Marx, people don't argue with me. When a Prof cracks and intelligent joke, Ritika and i are the only people who laugh and get stared at. The innocent jokes which seemed hilarious when Dipu narrated them now seem to be a pain. Some sarcastic comments that i used to expect people would understand are either not taken no note of or are taken in a straight way. Mind you, i'm in one of the country's best academic institutes... still wondering what academics really counts for.

At times i miss the presi politics, not coz i wanna make a political career but coz i wanna know more n the whole learning seems so incomplete without Ritam da's cool way of explaining, Rakesh da's hyperactive self or Sayantan da's passion in whatever he said with Dipu cracking a suicidal joke in the middle of no where.

Presi happens just once... Presi is fun, Presi is home... it's where we belong- perhaps people call me a pseudointellectual snob here but for once am being true... very very true. It's in our blood, we can't do away with it... once a Presidentian, always a Presidentian

Ode to Statistics Paper 7, Group A

2009-05-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

While you were there, smug and grinning
Out of that detested green notebook of mine,
When days were hard and heads were spinning,
And all I would is mope and whine.

Dismal days, mournful evenings, terrible nights,
(Mornings I would sleep unheeding),
Who knew heteroscedasticity could create such frights
And all one could say is bloomin' and bleedin'.

I would gaze at the formulae perplexed,
Classifying most derivations as miracles of God,
I would walk about harried and vexed,
Could hardly give it up, would not plod.

Ah those precious winter noons,
Now never return to memory or weather,
When explained MLEs were boons,
To forced testings myself I would tether.

You were my nemesis, my curse,
My Everest, unconquered, unvanquished.
You still look so forbidding, so terse,
Like those dukes who so languished.

Now that you are gone, I wander about lost,
Slightly bemused, mostly confused,
You gave me purpose, like warmth to frost,
You hide now like a madman accused.

I sing my woes, paint my toes,
Lurk around curtains, scare sneaking cats,
You and I may have come almost to blows,
But hating you gave life a meaning, do I sound bats?

I still do not understand correlation,
Never really read up Durbin Watson test,
Left the pages on auto correlation,
Econometrics makes me feel like a disliked guest.

I might be back again with you in weeks,
Or may not if luck favours,
I still owe you much, the guilt reeks,
The heart says you are a fool, the mind wavers.

The truth is I am witlessly, mind numbingly bored,
So bored, for even you I pine,
I await for sense, until then thoughts are to be ignored
I am all right really, not insane yet, completely fine.

Why do i call myself stinky

2009-04-16T09:58:00.000-07:00

Stinky as the name suggests means someone who is stinking .But why would would a sane,sensible smart,intelligent human being call itself stinky.One reason is I hate wasting water and bathing I consider as a luxury.But theres another reason for it.Its a wonderful pseudonym to have if I want to bull shit the whole world without harming my identity.For identity is an important thing .There are high chances of me becoming the prime minister of India ,or may be even Jaapaan(read jaaapaaan).And I definitely wouldn't malign my identity as the Prime Mean-ister of Jaapaan(P.S. am planning to dethrone the monarchy there) by suggesting such controversial ideas to save water as water saving shitting strategies.So let "stinky" denote "me" (staistics hereto) and me is a totally randon erratic constant parameter with infinite degrees of freedom .Please do not attempt to establish a regression model here .Estimation is impossible and error compnents are serially autocorrelated.U(t)=pU(t-1) + E(t) ,where p tends to infinty and shows explosive behavior.

2009-03-31T12:08:00.000-07:00

I am getting lazy about blogging properly. Unpresidented is a good way to blow off some steam.

Sometimes, writing something, anything, seems therapeutic. I am glad blogging exists. If today was thanksgiving, I would be thankful for it.

I have nothing else to say.

Actually, I do have plenty to say, but I am a very lazy blogger.

I plan to use this as a journal

2009-03-30T15:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Unpresidented,

I am a fool.
What is more, I think I am enjoying being a fool.
I wish there was a way I could stop but this time, it overpowers not even sanity, but even unhealthy levels of insanity.
You, I hate you. You do not know that.

I am tired. And disgruntled.

I think I need a paperback journal again, blogging is just not the same thing.

Love
Ria

Do see beyond the anger

2009-03-29T09:33:00.000-07:00

I wish someone understood,
How much the head aches,
Little shivers of hatred,
Courses through your veins,
Why bouts of nausea
Winds about your lungs,
Why sheer reluctance
Overpowers every sense,
The sight, the sound, the thought
Sends you down spirals of angst,
Why morbidity is heightened,
Why the only feeling left is rage,
You see, do not you,
It is not you I hate.
Just something else.

2009-03-28T11:49:00.000-07:00

I probably have some unresolved rage issues.

Devilry

2009-03-27T12:46:00.000-07:00

And, sometimes, you do run out of words.

It is hard to arrange mental incoherence into sensible sentences.

All you can want, at two in the night, is a little sense, and try not to submerge under the wave of sheer desperation and longing. With the advent of midnight, your mind is possessed by a soul bewitched, and things tug at your heart, heartless, ruthless, cunning and crazy.

This is not it, you are just in the throes of an obsession. The real thing is far more beautiful, far more magical, far more heartrending.

Yet, it is midnight. Things do not make sense. You are just grateful, that someone else did. Yet, this does not gladden. There is a purposeless rage, you feel thwarted, there is a sense of hurt.

It shall be morning soon, and it will bring forth rationality.

Yet, there is a certain unmitigated joy in this purposeless, hopeless madness. You have been bewitched by midnights, and you submit yourself to it.

You can not resist magic.

Ab apni man pasand caller tunes bilkul muft...!!!

2009-03-25T06:06:00.000-07:00

Morning 4.12 am: Dhol baje! Dhol baaje.. Range barse... Call kijiye 5123444 pe aur apke man pasand gana set kijiye free mein! Call charges Rs 6 prati minute!!

An exasperated me calling the customer care:

Me: Hi! Could you tell me how to stop spam calls. I get calls asking me to subscribe for callertunes all through the day...

Customer Care Rep (CCR): Shoo ma'am you dont want caller tune calls?

Me: Exactly

CCR: Toh note kijiye "START DND" and send to 1909... Will take 45 days to get activated. 45 days baad aapko koi calls nai ayenge!

Me (bemused at "koi calls nai" but supressing) : 45 days!!!! You know that's 1.5 months!!! :O

CCR: Yes maam

Me: No other way?

CCR: Yes maam

Me: Yes?! You mean no.. ok. If I set a caller tune would you stop disturbing?

CCR: No Maam!!

This college speaks!!!

2009-02-09T13:11:00.000-08:00

Reminisicing Presi Elections

2009-02-09T12:30:00.000-08:00

I don't care anymore who says what... For the n-th time in Presi, today I feel liberated. I won competitions writing about college politics but it's so strange... 3 years ago I was a different being! And all these incidents relate to my best friends... Strange but true!!

1st year college elections:

Aritree din't have her id card and SFI declined to recognize her as a college student.
I saw Scottish people climbing the Presi main gate into the college while the counting was on. It was scary when Pushan da n Sourya da climbed up the gate n threatened everyone...

2nd year college elections: (By now I was confirmed for IC.)

Raj da was house arrested.

3rd year college elections: (By now I wonder how how how we still don't have a good opposition in the state... enough of these pseudo communists!!! Enough of their strange manupulative dictatorial regime!!! x-( )

Arindam gets a threat call- if he comes to vote, consequences will take a toll on him!!!

I keep telling people, I believe nothing other than what I see. But why is it what what I see is just the violent side of SFI n never IC?? Chitra says coz of imprefect information... My whole house is red!!! They have best ways of convincing me, giving me proofs or even narrate incidents when IC went so dirty. I wanted to know!! I went to them! I talked to them!!! They couldn't say anything, couldn't prove anything. They just had said "Why is IC not taking steps in having the xerox center reopened?"

I went to Sayantan da (our G. Sec then for those who don't know.) He showed me a paper cutting of the tender ad that had come out n SFI wasn't even informed of it!!! What kinda opposition are those who dunno what the party in power does????

Finally before leaving college, whether IC wins or loses this election... I really want an answer!! What kind of politics does SFI practice?? Just abduction n attempt to win? (Hats off to your organizational skills though.. but then that has to be given the pyramidal party structure!) For once.. for once lemme believe in what I believed before I entered Presi- "Who's IC? SFI is the only option to choose!!"

A little of what is going on in here

2009-01-31T08:57:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, the thing you want to write most about is the very thing you want no one else to read. You want to write it down, with loops and flourishes, or perhaps chicken scratched on a piece of waste paper, fold it up, stuff it inside a drawer and then never ever remember it.

Or perhaps tear it up in shreds and hide it in the lane behind the college.

Dear college, you haven of secret whispers and dreams. You are a warm hug, you are my solace and sanctuary, my friend, my first love, my constant love, and, as I once promised you, my most favourite place on earth.

Darling, darling Presi, you shall always be my most favourite place on earth, wherever I end up going.

My Love My Presidency

2009-01-30T12:55:00.000-08:00

The dry soft leaves that touch my skin,
The moist wet sweat that hangs on my chin,
The dust that chooses to travel to my class,
The dew that smiles when i pass those blades of grass,
The huge staircase where netaji fell,
The smoky canteen where lives dwell,
The corners and turnings where strangers meet,
The wide open doors where waiting moms seat,
The air that rings with the laughter of youth,
The fields that welcome all to play and hoot,
The wide open corridors where winds can sigh,
The patches of beautiful green against the free sky.
Every block of stone holds its special place,
Patiently serving the edifice and its space.
The huge campus so overwhelmingly my own,
This is the tree that my predecessors had sown,
As every moment spent here passes by,
As every single day goes,
I love the place ever more,
Drinking every drop this paradise pours...............

moments

2009-01-29T12:53:00.000-08:00

Solitary journeys and yet the unquenchable desires to hold on to people you meet along the road of life…………

Moments are sometimes so deeply etched in our memories that we fail 2 see above them. Moments, that precious lil secs v keep hoping to experience again .Like the first time you walk in the rain with your love, Or those days far away from home in d company of strangers who provide u the comfort of two big teddy bears by letting u sleep cozily between them .Or the first train journey without your parents and the whole amount of sauce u drip on your food, my tomato ketchup never tasted so good and possibly never will. The day I went to my new friends almost at d other end of the city for a “Study session” and spent the whole day sharing lil secrets, and another time when I went to another frds place simply to kill some time in the name of studies walking around some engineering college. And yet another instance of “sex chats “in the open college field staring at the sky, Or having ice creams and teaching my friends how to kiss it in the process ,or drink lemon tea as if it was ambrosia……….

Sometime feel and wish life would just be collection of these happy moments.:-)

Why Recessions are not the Best Times to Marry

2009-01-29T12:07:00.000-08:00

You dunno when your partner is kicked out of the job and the poverty line seems attainable.
You dunno the real income of your partner till better times- adjusting the inflation figures to recession situations are not a good idea!!
Bullion markets are on a high- so you can never satisfy your in-laws with gold. ;) (Besides, why lose out on something like more gold when the prices are low?)
If you get married during a recession and have kids during a boom, by the time they are 4-5 years, we'll reach another recession- could reduce the generation gap...

The other day someone sent a sms "The recession has struck so bad that women are now marrying for love." Here's earnestly hoping that you girls (n yaa boys too), know what to do with it!!

Unsent Letters

2009-01-20T01:30:00.000-08:00

I have never learned to love the way people love away,
I find it hard to trust, to believe,
To find constancy of affection for any single being,
To love knowing you are true, intransient in every way.

All I ever did wish was to love, just once,
In such a way that I would be incapable of ever loving again,
That I would find love, a love which would be so irrevocably mine,
I would know it was mine with the first glance.

I loved you once, with a madness uncompared,
Then hated you more, a feeling more intense,
Then I found out how I felt nothing anymore,
You were dead, love was dead, my heart was spared.

Yet, now, when you are gone, gone forever,
I roll between the sheets worrying over things unsaid,
I see now, I am a part of you,
More than you were a part of me ever.

My heart aches, I weep under covers
Not thinking of you gets harder,
I dream of the days when were friends,
perhaps more, perhaps lovers.

And I see I am in love with you after all,
And I am too late again.

2009-01-11T02:31:00.000-08:00

After just having given one ,Im fresh with memories of spending 1.5 hrs pencil shading on a thick white sheet printed with pink circles and instructions.

Pros
1.Professors don't have to go through bad handwriting and shocking answers.They can Of course choose to put in funny options for a bit of humor in their humongous lives.
2.Students can play games like "eenie meenie minee moe".Its both relieveing and accurate at 5% level of singnificance.Ok make it 25% for the unlucky folks out there .
3.
a)This is one format that gives a better scope to cheat.But one has to be really really careful with the sequence.
b) Easier to cheat since your "helper" just needs to point out the correct option.You can make good use of fingers and even indulge in some stretching exercises while doing this.
4.If you finish shading the whole thing early.You can always make the shading darker.Dark black holes on a white pink printed sheet.Reminds me of those being abused in the name of love.

Cons
1.Professors dont get to read funny answers.Students are not allowed to be "creative"
eg.Q)How does amoeba catch its prey?
ans)In the wee hours of daylight when the sun has just come out.Little Amoeba steps out of its den.Like a skilled hunter it cautiously follows its prey.It suddenly grabs its prey from behind and with one sharp stroke the prey is killed by the swift amoeba.The end.
2.People with good handwritings don't get a better score.Some people are Ofcourse happy with this(read.............. umm ok dont read).
3.People with Luckier stars get undue advantage.

Testing

2009-01-08T08:51:00.000-08:00

Wayward winsomeness, willingly wages wars within.
speak, craziness within, open, ask, question.
crumbling into droplets of madness, fiery stars,
glowing here, there, everywhere,
til I am submerged, enveloped, filled,
Fulfilled.

In the dust of escaping shoes, restless fingers,
breaking, destroying, yet, in the muddled mess
creating a vent.
you shiver, you moan, you weep endless weepings,
and end it in a trilly, shrilly
Laugh.

Ridiculous, they bemoan, weary weirdness,
oh, so weary, so foolish, yet,
there you are, looking up at trees,
smiling, talking, laughing, ignoring, accepting,
waging billions of wars within
Yourself.

now ,here, with u.....

2008-12-22T01:24:00.000-08:00

Child playful in the winter chill,
Awaiting your warmth to hearts fill.
A steaming cup of lemon tea ,
A paper strip of fries,
Some innocent frolicking,
A couple of lies.
Not everything one wants does life denies.
Running across pathways,
With the carpet green below,
Holding hands against the breeze...hair flying, shoelaces untied.
Snatched a pocket full of memories before life can go.

Music and the Madness Within

2008-09-01T05:58:00.000-07:00

There is a music playing somewhere in my head. It flows out, surrounds the room, envelopes me with its playing, lightly snatching, notes. I know a hunger I have never known before. I remember things I had assumed unseen. The music plays on, amazingly mysterious, delightfully light, and there is joy. Joy. Exquisite pain. Sorrow. Despair. There is hopelessness intertwined with dreams I thought I was incapable of dreaming any more. The music tugs at memories I never thought I would have the courage to remember.

Glimpses hurry by of things, whether imagined or real, I can not differentiate. They have always been there, and too much time has rushed by. I remember companionship, forced, accepted, beloved, lost. Something stabs. It chokes. Friends, who are still there, friendships, which are no more. There is a mist I have to see through to realize which way my thoughts are headed for. There are mountains, wise, steady, old, yet, young. There are valleys, and snowfall. I feel again the first snowflake, soft, cold, perhaps like the heart I pretend I have. The music plays on, makes me remember more. Its my Ghost of the Christmas Past.

There is me. Me. So many me's. The writer, the fool, the joker, the student, the liarthe one who talks so much, the one who revels in tragedy, the one who craves drama, the one who never rests, the one who is cold and unfeeling, and the one who never ceases to weep. I remain amazed at all that I have been and all that I am. I look for myself, the one which is my true self. I find none. I am too many people. The music gives me no time to feel shattered. I pass shaded trees and glistening droplets, the music guiding me all the way. I wonder at my fear of my stories, too scared to let imagination reign. This was not me. Not the one who thought and wrote and lived somewhere else everyday. What had happened in the last few years to kill the courage to explore my own thoughts. Why did the stranger affect me so much?

There is a stranger. So unknown, it hurts. But never ceases to fascinate. For I see myself mirrored in him, every trait, every hesitation, every word, they come from me. Yet, someone else speaks them. I do not have the courage to ask him why his presence, his existence, the fact that he is there, known to me, bothers me so much. Or ask him why indeed is he there, why did he want us to know each other. Things had been so much happier before. Not happier. The music refutes the word. They had been safer. Now, its an uncharted territory whilst I move along with a mutiny in my heart.

I am ad libber. The one who speaks her mind. The one who makes things up as she goes. Why are my thoughts so controlled, my actions so proper? Then I know the truth, a truth which does not set me free. While the music ends, joyously, resonating, vibrating, shimmering with love and hope and happiness, I realize being ad libber was the biggest lie of all.

How Economic Models are Made (or What Heads of Institutions I will be Applying to Should Not Come Across

2008-08-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

"He Dharti ma, mujhe apne god me samale!!"

"No, nothing, not even a budge," Bonky observed and tilted her head in thought. "Maybe you have got the words wrong. These goddesses are very picky about the words you say."

"Hmm, should we be more specific you think? Maybe ask her to open a crevice and then add the 'god me samale' bit?"

"If you ask me, she would get offended if you treat her like a kid. Next you know, the earth will start contracting again and we will end up right next to the Russians and Bangladesh will become a mountain."

"As admirable as your Geography is, I think its worth an effort."

The revised version of the classic suicide appeal was exclaimed again with full fervour with no tragic results and we were left mulling over the undivided road yet again.

"You know what I think? Dharti ma has done her work. Now we need to appeal to the god of roads. The earth is probably all hollowed and awaiting my corpse. We need to pray to the road to divide and let me access my grave."

"Trying to commit suicide, are we? Is this because they abolished the examinations for masters at Presi? Come, come now, we know suicide is too drastic a step, do not we? Try breaking a leg or something," remarked an interloper.

"We have an examination for masters? Since when? You think mundane stuff like this drives to me to desperation? Ye hardly know me, interloper."

"Of course we do," said the interloper, ignoring everything else but the reference to examinations. "Don't you remember PM telling us some girl only drew a downward sloping line when asked what a budget line was?"

"No. Who is PM?"

"Uh, the Indian Economy professor, but never mind that. Why in the world are you looking so thoughtful? Last I saw you thoughtful was when you were making paper balls to throw at..."

"Yes, never mind that. Ask me that question again."

"Why in the world are you..? Oh, oh, you mean what is a budget line?"

"Seriously, what is a budget line. It is a downward sloping line, that is all. What more could we add? That it looks like a rainbow from afar if drawn with one of those multi coloured pens?"

Bonky, appalled by my ignorance, added her own intellectual input to the answer, "It has a negative slope. Oh, and in case supply is rationed.."

Quelling her with a glance, I continued "Let me think out the answer without trying to write downward sloping lines have a negative slope. Oh, oh wait, I know, a budget line is a downward sloping line. This means it slopes...er...downwards.."

"Oh yes," Bonky interrupted forcibly. " I can not mention downward sloping lines have negative slopes but you can mention downward sloping lines slope downwards. Not only are you a despot, you are a..."

"Careful with your language. I have a feeling I might be blogging about this later."

"You blog about us?? You mean our conversations and everything?"

"Of course not," I remarked airily. "Now stop interrupting my answer. So, since a budget line slopes downwards, we can assume the force of gravity acts on it."

"We can assume what," she exclaimed .

"I am just incorporating a bit of tenth grade Physics. You should know gravity now. You studied Physics at high school, did not you? Waste of time in my opinion, when you had to end up as an economist and forget about gravity. So, where were we? Oh yes, let us assume slope of budget line is -1. It can be anything really, we just need a negative value. So do not go stretch the syllables of the word 'what' again. Accelaration due to gravity is 9.8 m/sec². Now, we will proceed to equate them. Therefore, -1= 9.8 m/sec². Bonky, why are your eyes popping out?"

"Are they? I never noticed. The weather, perhaps? Tell me," she added conversationally," do not you think equating -1 with 9.8 is rather pathbreaking? Not many people dare to do it."

"I did not equate it with 9.8, Bonky," I replied, a strained note creeping in my my voice due to all the unnecessary explanations. " I equated it with 9.8 m/sec². And close your mouth. What with all the eye popping and mouth gaping, you are beginning to look like Fishface"

"That, of course, makes all the difference."

"Now for the last bit of my answer and pray do not interrupt me again. Cross multiplying, we can say -1/9.8 = m/sec². Bonky, I see you goggling again. It is a very unnerving habit. Get rid of it. Sec² can not be negative, since it is a square, which implies meter is negative. However, we know distance is a scalar quantity and can not be negative."

"So? Go on. You interest me enormously. How will you deal with this obstruction to your brilliance?"

"So, Bonky, all it proves is that a budget line does not exist. The concept of a budget line is mathematically unsound and hence, all we have learnt in Consumer Behaviour is based on the foundation of mathematically incorrect theories. Which means our Part 1 examination was one big lie."

"You know," remarked Bonky, after thinking it over a bit," I think the ground vibrated a little. Want to try that prayer again?"

What I Could Do With My Life- The Way of the Economists

2008-07-17T16:21:00.000-07:00

(Pinged, as usual, since I am incapable of writing original things at a stretch, from my blog)

By this time next year, if I have not actually managed to write everything incorrectly in my development paper as my dreams seem to predict, I ought to be a graduate. However, as is almost obvious by the level of intelligence one usually displays on this blogspace, 60.5 percentage of Indian graduates are not employable. All students of Economics immediately fall under this marquee, namely because, when real life does not measure up to theory, we attribute it to errors made by statisticians. In fact, in the blame game, we attribute anything to statisticians if it makes us look good. Marriage between a statistician and an economist is, thus, amongst one of the worst nightmares of a marriage counselor. Of course, most jobs earmarked for graduates do not provide statisticians, resulting in the unemployability of economics students.

Let us form a flowchart in our minds, since I do not know how to create one on blogger. The educational path of a graduate divides automatically into two parts, an MBA or Masters. We will not consider the former in this analysis as I would immediately start weeping uncontrollably if anyone tries to interview me.

A masters degree usually ensures :
The geek tag
A job
Pretty much nothing else

And now we will revert to my favourite form of writing- point wise discussion.

1) I take up the jobDescriptionI have absolutely no idea. There was a vague explanation somewhere which said we wouldhave to predict GDPs and stock market fluctuations. There have also been whispers of bulls and bears. But since I plan to take up Mathematical Economics, questions I would be certainly be incapable of answering in job interviews are:

What do you think will be next year's GDP?
What was last year's GDP?
What is GDP?
What are bulls and bears?
What is a stock market?
What is a stock?
What is macroeconomics?
What is economics?

Pros: I will have money if employed.

Cons: Probably no one will employ me.I would still be clueless regarding what the subject is all about.

2) I get desperate and decide on the Ph.D

This also has different repercussions. So sub dividing the topic

a) I do the Ph.D. and take up a job

Refer above.

b) I stick to researching economical stuff.

Description

No one really knows what economists research, least of all the economists themselves. We begin by trying to find out a correlation between the shininess of a jellyfish and its sexual life (Translated : A jellyfish!! Ooohh pretty!! Do you think it has a girlfriend?) and end up with results on the marital stability of men who own charter boats. We automatically create a model on the basis of our observations and pretend it describes the economic conditions of fishermen.Of course, sometimes, policymakers think the sexual life of jellyfish is exactly what the countries need as a pick-me-up in these times of desolation and degeneration. Hence, Nobel prizes are often awarded randomly to economists on the basis of the prettiness of the paper clips used. So the probable effects of doing research are :

i) I win the Nobel Prize

Pros
I will be famous.
I will be rich.
I will have a model named after me. Palit's theory of monopoly whorism has a nice tang to it.
I can finally be an author, even if to a niche reader base.
I will finally be invited everywhere, and not only because my great-granddad had two many kids, assuring an unending supply of relatives.
I might accidentally figure out what the subject is all about.

Cons
I will be famous.
I will have to give lectures. For which I will have speak slowly and enunciate properly. Something I have never cared for since I was seven.
I will be doomed to either a life of celibacy or multiple divorces.
Every budding economist will hate me.
Someone might figure out my model is actually based on a statistical error.

ii) I do not win the Nobel Prize

Pros
I can still be an author.
If I force Calcutta University to add my book to the recommended texts, the royalties will be decent. But only just.
I can have a blog about Economics and people in love with the subject can read it and have a crush on me.
I can finally be an aantel.

Cons
I would still have to lecture people.

I would probably end up being the vague, scatty professor who always trips while entering the classroom. Also, my students will hate me.
I will be the poor cousin of Nobel prize winners. The only parallel I can think of is being a weatherman-on TV, but only to give the newsreader a break.
I might end up coming back to Presidency and then complain vaguely about the lack of attendance in my class, enabling my HOD to give me gloating looks.
I would only have the option of dating economists, never getting the chance to meet anyone else.
I will have no money.
I may still not be able to figure out what the subject is all about.

This is roughly, the sample space of total possibilities in my chosen career path in the next twenty years or so. Since this has been my first attempt in long term thinking, it probably comes as no surprise that I am in extreme panic mode. However, these make nice blog posts. If anyone can come up with alternative career prospects for me, please mention them in the comments section, and I will analyze them too. Of course, when it comes to choosing, I will probably just draw lots. But that is next year's tale.

A letter to desire....................

2008-07-12T06:19:00.000-07:00

Desire,
I desire to walk through fields with you,
My hands enclosed in the warmth of yours,
To let the rain drops play cupid when we are alone,
And time await with closed doors.

My drenched self bringing you closer to me,
And your wildness drawing me to you.
Your arms hugging me with such intensity,
That I'd melt in them forever,
Melt like thin air into oblivion,
Losing myself to you......the momentary pleasure of not being alone.

Desire,
I desire to be a child again,
And let you be my parent this time.
Licking away icecreams together,
To let the ice cream end with a kiss,
A kiss sweeter than all the sweetness in this world,
A kiss so deep that I'd sink into it.
Sink into it ,emersing myself in you.......the momentary pleasure of being yours.

Desire,
I desire to feel your touch,
To let you be my owner for once;
One look from your eyes making me standstill,
Your breath making me shiver with joy....to drown in the sea of your love

And such and such are my desires for now,
I send them to you in the sealed envelope of destiny.
Open it when time permits,and reply as soon as you can.

To desire ,
With love.

Child Abuse- A Reality Check

2008-06-09T09:12:00.000-07:00

When I read about so many writings on Child Abuse, all that I find missing is the soul. It is indeed easy to talk, easy to be angry, easy to loathe the abuser or be sympathetic to the victim. But what it is not easy to be is to think from a victim’s shoes. When we talk of child abuse, we say we feel for the child and what impact it will have on the innocent heart. But what I care more for is what happens to the victim in future…

The worst part perhaps is that those who have never been victimized are the ones who write about it and the victims are so withdrawn in to themselves that they find it tough to come across and pen down the violence. Recently I had read a book, Bitter Chocolate by Pinki Virani. I could not read it through… in fact the authoress had mentioned particularly that victims of child abuse should not read the book. It indeed can bring back a lot of tormenting memories.

Another very common thing I find is when victims write about their own experiences, they impersonate and try to put the hurt and the torment as far from them as possible, preferably speaking in the third person. Nothing wrong in that- I understand no one tries to remember such experiences. But what bothers me is that they are ashamed to come clear of it in public. My question is- why? If a child faced abuse, it really was not his/her fault! The abusers search for preys within the family or neighborhood. And how can you possibly suspect everyone whom you are close to? Perhaps you should… I definitely would. But it really is not very plausible. Even if it is anyone’s fault other than the abuser’s, it perhaps the child’s parents or guardians! So, there is no reason why you should be ashamed of yourself!

This again reminds me of the hypocritical society that we live in! When we hear of a child victimized, we sympathize… These are not cases where sympathy is needed- these are cases where you should empathize, be understanding, shower a little love. But where is that? We deliver long speeches, we loath abusers, we freak out- but how many of you would actually think of choosing a life partner who has been a victim of child abuse? A hundred thoughts start creeping in- he/she can never be your “ideal” life partner. Are you living in an ideal society by the way?

Finally and most importantly, please do let the victims grow… evolve within themselves, help them realize they are normal, they were unlucky, but life will not coagulate for them. Most of the victims find it difficult when it comes to relationships- insecurity and fear are only very common symptoms. But it is your- all of our duty to make life as normal for them as possible. Being normal does not mean sympathizing! Being normal means how you would be with me if you had no clue that I was a victim of child abuse… Trust me, that is all that they need…

Investing in the Stock Market

2008-05-28T23:06:00.000-07:00

So you love making money?! Nothing wrong, in fact everything is right!! Everyone looks at making money from the NASDAQ. And that is why you should be careful with your hard earned money!

It is good that unlike many people in the developing worlds, you do not think that stock markets are a gamble, but at times, you have to learn to be a little risk averse from them. With the American economy slowing down considerably, it is of prime importance to know which the safer stocks are that you can invest in, in spite of their prices being on the lower end.

Portfolio analysts are making a lot of money these days. And why not? You are paying them to let them take a call on your behalf. In fact that is a good thing that you do- a lot better than losing up money. But for those of you who want to handle situations alone, we make some noteworthy points:

 Try not to buy and sell at the very opening of the market. The market is in general a lot more volatile during the first thirty minutes of trade.
 Do not buy a stock unless you are sure of when you want to sell it.
 If you are in the market, you should know about having margin accounts. However, having such an account and using them are two different things. Try not to use them unless you know how to handle them and keep yourself out of trouble.
 Stop loss orders are a must if you do not want to lose money. Keep increasing the limit of the stop loss as you gain more money and experience.
 Consider all the external factors that could affect the market. The recent earthquake in China or a flood in some state of India can affect the market rates in such a globalized market. Infact, China and India are two economies you should keep note of in the view of emerging markets.
 With the US economy in a slump, it is advisable to invest in foreign markets that do not have much to trade with the US and will be the least affected and do not have much of trade with the US.

As a final note, as they popularly say, both bulls and bears make money, only the hogs lose out! So, do not hog… money is sure to flow in if your basics are right!

Light, Camera n confessions...

2008-05-18T01:13:00.000-07:00

Well... as i suspected, i had to delete this post!!! Wasn't really the best of presentations... so don't worry!! :)

2008-03-29T17:41:00.000-07:00

(A Delhi trip excerpt from an exceptionally long post from my blog)

There was a week spent in un-idleness in Delhi. College packed three of us pseudo-economists off under the hope of keeping the beacon of Presidency Economics high. Siblings sent us off with joyful good byes in the hope of the splendour of gifts brought back. We went there in the hope of meeting some proper guys for a change (Dear Kolkata guys, please do not get offended, we love you all. You are intelligent, stalwart men who will always remain the people our parents hope we will end up getting married to. This is just the rebellious phase every just-left-teenage girl goes through. But we always come back to you. Maybe we leave you again later. But we will discuss that in some other post).

We did meet them. It was a wonderful eight days which we spent falling in love over and over again with every man in sight, not even excluding wonderful looking professors from Pakistan (Pakistan has everything, good looking professors, good looking men, even, for crying out aloud, good looking women, and an actual interest in Economics. Wish to reword those Partition clauses again). We also realized Kolkata is not an undisputed World number one in aantlamo. Very, very curiously, Delhi comes close. Frighteningly close.

However, the trip's main impact laid elsewhere. Not being one to keep people with their breaths held in taut suspense, I will be quick to come to the point. It was the washing of clothes (Cue, quick drawing of breath). It was while we washed clothes, past midnight, with the aid of shampoos the hotel beatifically provided, we realized that we had actually transcended to adulthood. That we were women in the real sense of the word. Also that we would make terrible washerwomen and that washing clothes would also have to be struck off from the list of alternate careers. There were also instances of impromptu dances which involved jumping on a rather bouncy bed and which ended with loadshedding and meeting cute looking guys in the lobby to discuss the electricity problems in Delhi and why that meant the Stock exchange was falling (The mating season for economists is not a very attractive one. We are reduced to either discussing the Stock Exchange or questions on how to become millionaires while trying to get Ph.D. degrees. The first ends in fistfights, the second in hopeless sobs).

I realize I must have mystified my readers (Gasp, I have readers, it feels good to say that while planning crazy attack on chirping birds). The college sent us off to Delhi to attend a seminar on (held breaths again) Economics (gasps) with a few other South Asian countries. Scores of undergraduate economics students were bunched of in a scenario reminiscent of Goopy Bagha Phire Elo where Bikrams are caught and imprisoned (this is for my non Bengali readers. Bengali readers, skip this section before getting an aneurysm or something by the mind boggling description) by a mad yogi of a sort, whose death had been predicted by a boy named Bikram. The imprisoned Bikrams in the story become his housemaids and washerwomen. We presented papers and listened to endless babbling by famous people on how to achieve the Indian/Bangladeshi/Pakistani/Nepali/Sri Lankan Dream. Since none of us were even particularly clear about which dreams they were focusing on, we would utilize the time to run away to Connaught Place and visit Nirula's. Or some other equally wonderful, ambrosial joint (Cue: Wipe away nostalgic tears).

In case you are nice enough to want read the post in its entirety, pleej to click here.

continuation of 'the tall dark and handsome and a vege too'-the end

2008-03-29T06:03:00.000-07:00

Two phone calls later
and many msgs past v had 2 agree
dat mr.i n i cud nevr turn we,
He had too much 'i'
and dere was little 'i' in me.

Evolution... the dependent way!!!

2008-03-24T11:14:00.000-07:00

Adam and Eve had 2 sons. Now don't ask me their holy names again.. they are not so important that i of all people should remember them!! Nah, if you are wondering this is a story about Christian morality, you are very sadly mistaken... i never find morals in it.. but then that's another story!!So Adam and Eve had 2 sons. I was discussing this with a friend and the obvious question arose. Then how did it continue? How did they have kids? Well... we are not perverted... we don't talk of incest of "moulla FUKir"-s. We were science students!! So, here was my friend explaining evolution.. (who the hell cared for Darwin by the way?) Adam and Eve's sons found themselves lady monkies and married (since we are kids we don't go in to details!! ;) and thus came our favourite monkey... Andrew Symonds!!Is that racially offensive? Well we just said what they wanted to hear... black moneys or white monkeys.. Mr. Symonds, we respect you... you have indeed stuck to your roots... i perfectly understand that since you lost your tail, branches are no longer a good place for you!!! :PSo, isn't that simple enough? Evolution simplified... and if you call me a racist... ummm well i hate most of the whites, so am definitely a racist... but i respect all of them, how they stick to their "roots"!!P.S. Since i started this with Adam and Eve... i'll come back to Christianity on some other blog.. till then learn how to escape perversion!! :D :P

Confusion?? Errr... not really!!

2008-03-18T12:18:00.000-07:00

"no, just awfulyl sad
its like
sometimes
you want to be a criminal suppose
and then you meet someone
adn all ambition goes to hell
and all you want is to have six kids with him
the eternal topic of you have met the hero, and the hero gets the girl"

Now that's what our dear miss ad-libber said while having a chat with me!! Who says only guys are despos?? Seems like am "still" on the other side of the planet when i meet such "desperate girls". Wonder of wonders they call me despo at college!! Seems it's an opposite world.. am happy with 1 guy and am a despo.. these girls romance 3 guys under the moonlight and don't fall in love!! If Deepanjan is reading this, i want an explanation sir!!!

Tall,dark , handsome and a vege too!

2008-03-18T10:13:00.000-07:00

Day 1:

A tall (ok not so tall in comparison to mr.a),dark(ok not so dark in comparison to mr.a'), handsome(ok now for dis too i have to mention, not as handsome as mr.a''(p)), walks towards us.Us dat is rinky, dinky n me.V smile(isnt it natural).dinky makes small talk, v look around pathetically, lost...Conversation goes on. V meet a string of oder mr.a s . Situation unchanged. Heartbeats pacen, dis is a treasury of hunks , man!
V move on 2 d bauffet table.Veges n non veges separate.AAAAAAAhh mr.i is a vege tooooooooooooo.

Day 2:

morning: v dont look dey dont look( sad)
evening: Hey v meet again! My dashing mr.i. An hour long ear aching session(for d general public it implies classical music). I hav heartburns, mr. i goes on chatting away wid 3 damsels...
finally the turmoil ends n v stand beneath the open sky, mr.i n i face 2 face.how romantic! V talk about his sexy uncles n aunts, the portions of food in our plates lying untouched. I drink 6 classes of orange juice out of sheer joy.

Day 3:

morning: V meet fleetingly. His only question-"did u hav ur breakfast"( how silly of me i thought he was being concerned).
evening: Too much has happened too quickly in my too little life, am exhausted.Mr.i n i meet again (11 o' clock), he's drunk n manages to giv me a dazed hiii..

Day 4:
morning: no meeting..
evening: He's wearing a pink striped shirt(so cute). V shake hands for some reason cant recall. Again the ambience is romantic, its a garden banquet wid candle lit tables n soft romantic numbers being played in the background. Mr.i is about 2 leave. Comes 2 me n says bye, i quickly take his number n email id. He looks surprised( am i too interested n he too unintersted?)

to be continued......................

The Dudes Abide

2008-03-05T12:48:00.000-08:00

(Pinged from my own blog.)

It is very easy to recognize economists when the budget season nears. They go about looking pale and sickly, heedless of all sights and sounds, except when wincing painfully at the sight of a copy of The Economic Times. It is not hard to reason why. Most economists forget all they have learned ten minutes after they get their degrees. Some do not even wait till the end of the examinations. After that, all theories propounded by them are a result of assumptions made and an imagination active. Many are the theories I myself have created on ill prepared examinations. Three of the papers easily deserve a Nobel. John Nash is a classic case of famous economists. No one but he could have created something which reads "Complementarity is the source of multiplicity in the Nash equilibrium". One requires the aid of an imagination fueled idea and a psychological disease to make up that.

The lot of an economist is a hard one. In the olden days, most people would join the Foreign legions to help them forget. With the legions having now been disbanded, they try to fall in love. Love after all, always makes you forget everything. However, most economists are a bunch of snobs, assuming (which is their business) that every other human is inferior to them intellectually and they deserve no less than Fellows from Oxford. Of course they do not get them. But economists are extremely persistent. If nothing else works, they go and take to drink. And they forget.

(N.B. If the economist is a female, she does not even need to take to drink, she takes to weight loss. That makes her forget everything, including love and foreign legions. It is an unstated general rule that female economists who take the subject seriously are fat. The fact that there are not enough female economists proves it. Who really wants to remain fat nowadays?)

But then drink brings out all that is base in man. Which is why perhaps when we got drunk, all we could do was whine about "Cournot equilibrium" and "Todaro-Harris model" and then sob in a corner.

But I digress.

(Click to enlarge)

Every man meets his Waterloo. And economists, despite all rumours, are humans. Albeit with slightly different Waterloos. While the misogynist finds the woman of his dreams, business tycoons find brothers constantly reminding them of their share in the business, politicians find unsuitable son-in-laws, economists have the budget thrust upon their unwary faces.

For in this world, there still remain a few of little faith. Judas is the name which comes to the mind as an example. Some who do not trust enough in the healing power of forgetfulness. And they keep on remembering. Then they go join newspapers as columnists. Or the "Gor-ment" as financial advisors.

It can never be a very pleasing sensation when served with your early morning coffee are the screaming headlines referring to cost push inflation. The Fates band up against you and you realize there is a family member looking down expectantly and asking you to explain the meaning of cost push inflation as opposed to other kinds of inflation. The hurriedly mumbled line defining cost push inflation as inflation pushed by cost, rather than by other, say, non cost, what do you call it, thing, is not accepted in a spirited manner and the economist goes back to face the world, a mere shadow of his former, jubilant, coffee sipping self. The Fates are a cruel lot though, once aroused by the Furies, and questions regarding the subtle difference between fiscal and revenue deficit haunts the economist's mind till he receives the next day's paper, which speaks glibly of various anti inflationary measures and waiving of farmers' loans.

However, the budget question, once admirably settled, does not raise its head again for a considerable time. No more is the economist tormented by the general, misguided public to explain something the general, misguided public happily imagines the economist knows about. The economist, what with the daily cares of the world on his shoulders and the severe concern for the income of various alcohol fermentators, gets involved in the grind again. And forgets. Time, as usual, remains the best healer. And the economists, as spelled out by this very fascinating movie called The Big Lebowski, abide.

Conversations

2008-02-10T08:13:00.000-08:00

First, or perhaps second day of college :
Unnamed senior (US) : Once you enter these hallowed halls, you never even look back and think of trivial monetary pursuits.
Me: (hiccough)
US: You strive for the betterment of society. You take an interest around the problems around you, be they social, political, economical. You are the ones who carry on the name of this institution to far away places and make it proud.
Me: ......
US: So, tell me, have you any idea about future plans.
Me: Yes, I was struggling around with the idea of film making.....
US: Aaah..in true Presi tradition. Surely,depicting the common everyday problems of the society?
Me: No, ah..more on the lines of a roma..ahem...I mean, I changed my mind.
US: Yes?
Me: What, I am 18. Dude, gimme time to grow up.
US: (shakes head over the seeming frivolity and disrespectfulness of the future baton holders of the prestige of the college)

About a month later
Unnamed Classmate at Metro Station (UCMS): What the..., I mean, ahem.. hey, what are you doing here?
Me: Er..taking the metro.
UCMS: Oh yes, of course, of course, what...ah..oh..umph.
Me: uh...
UCMS: ......
Me:....
UCMS: So..tell me, what are your plans for the future?
Me: Dunno, I guess go home, read a book or two, watch some mindless soaps.
UCMS: Oh, yes, no, I mean, not the immediate future, long term you know.
Me: Ohh..Yes..ah..I do have certain plans...still..you know.. in the process..What are yours (silly grin)?
UCMS: (mumbles something incoherently)...ah..what..the metro..yes..see you around..huh?
Me: (smiles back, relieved)

About a year later
Unnamed Classmate after Results (UCAR): So..er..unfortunate what?
Me: eh?
UCAR: Performances, this and that...so, what plans for your future?
Me: (suppressing a sigh) I have, you know ideas...am still thinking... probably... you know how things are.
UCAR: Its almost been an year, hardly two years left, you can not mean to tell me you still have not thought it out yet!!
Me: There was this astrologer, you see, she foretold I am dying, like, in a couple of years, so, you know, was not worth the bother. Might as well go on an African safari and have lions consume me for all good this subject is going to do to me.
UCAR:...

A couple of days back
Concerned Parent: So, I see you just have an year left in college. Any plans yet about your future?
Me: Well, we have plenty of options, how does documentary direction sound to you?
CP: (somehow preventing an aneurysm) Do not, pray, be flippant with me. Have you gone through the college brochures?
Me: (College bro- whaaa..?) Eh, course, don't you worry, I have got the thing down pat. Everything is hunky-dory. You worry too much.
CP: (sighing, lays down weapons) So, what is this documentary direction?
Me: (she agrees? Damn!) On the other hand, how does..umm...species conservation sound?

Why Un-presi-dented?

2008-02-10T01:38:00.000-08:00

The only reason i hadn't written anything on this page till now, was because my mind goes blank when i try writing "un-presidented". Well, may be it's time i should tell all my friends here why i chose this name... if anyone of you have any reservations against this, please do feel free to suggest alternatives.

With most people out here, from what i believe we all call the heaven on earth, Presidency College... i guess the name suggests a bit of presi feelings in it. I had always wanted to think "un-presidented". It's simple enough. As Arindam has mentioned in his earlier post.. want to think what i want to... be it right, wrong, whatever!! No one out here will "preside" over our thoughts atleast!!

And people.. don't you think this is the very essense of our college?? Think different... that's "un-presi-dented"... Presi dented in us..

Am i talking rubbish.. non-sense?? (That's what i always do by the way;) But as i told you.. my mind goes blank when this blog is concerned. I have too much to say but dunno how to string in the words... will try another time!!

Till then... should i ask for blessings from a certain blog author? ;) Miss Stinky should know what i mean :P

X

2007-12-31T02:14:00.000-08:00

( Sudeshna told me i could even contribute stuff here that had nothing whatsoever to do with Presidency, with all due respect 2 d gr88 institution.. So, if anybody has reservations regarding this, may my friend Sudeshna be held responsible !! Here goes.. )

All along my life I’ve tried to think. I cannot accept faiths or beliefs just because they exist or people have been accepting them for ages, and I can’t say I care a lot for people who do so.
There’s a very itchy side of my mind that compels me to challenge, question or argue anything that’s been told or taught to me. Let me call this itchy side X.
I’d rather stay in a small kingdom of people who can actually use their eyes than become a slave of a large empire whose rulers and subjects have all been blinded by faith and beliefs they’ve been accepting mindlessly.
X makes me do so. X makes me ask questions, and not to accept stuff if the corresponding answers aren’t satisfactory.
It’s not that I always want to drive the wrong way. It’s just that I generally want to be the ONLY ONE who’s to decide which way of the road is right and which way isn’t. I have a tendency of simply not accepting it when someone (whoever it is) comes up to me and says “this is right” or “this is wrong”. I can think on my own, thank you.
X itches me torturously until I make the right-wrong decision MYSELF...

Ragged

2007-12-21T01:00:00.000-08:00

I was still in a daze. How the hell did I pass that fucking test I had no idea! Most of my paper was based on random guesses. Walking towards the Audi I feared they'd suddenly remember that I was there by mistake and ask me to leave.

It was a huge dark auditorium. Rather drab, as if someone forgot to maintain it after a couple of years of its construction. I sat near a girl who was now my classmate. She didn't seem to notice anything except her cellphone as if it was deliberately stuck to her fingures and needed her attention like newly found love. Two other girls beside her were still cheery in comparison. Some speeches were rolled out onto our unyielding ears, then we were lead off to our departments.
We huddled onto the seats in the seminar room. As if by sticking together the inevitable could be faced with greater courage. Looking back now i feel all the fear was unnecessary, but we were fresher then, with horribly twisted stories about ragging fed into our brains. Each fresher awaited his/her turn with bated breath. The seniors trying their best to maintain the eeriness.
A tall fellow was called up, a thin small boy followed. Thus began the pole dance sequence enacted by the two-some. The tally trying his best not to rollaround and the smally endeavoring to maintain the distance,despite his hands around the tally.

Anothr pair was selected-one tall girl with long untied hair and another short boy with spects. Two chairs were placed, one behind the other and they were asked to stand on them, with hands spread out-emoting the titanic scene. Some pairs were made to dance on newspaper sheets, some others let off with jokes. My turn hadn't yet come and every time someone else's name was called out i'd sigh in relief. When finally it did I walked down the wooden staircase in nervous fear. SeXstared from the blackboard. I was asked to give its meaning. The whole place loomed before me. I faced the class and gave some feeble answers to which everyone shouted-louder, louder. Till someone took pity on me and told me to sing a song instead. Imagine my foolishness to ask them- which song? I sang Kajrare. While on the second line, the 2nd year guy behind me whispered-kiske kaare naina? I fumbled on the second line and they let me off.

entering the portals

2007-12-20T01:22:00.000-08:00

The first day I entered presi ,I thought my dad was kidding.There were around 2000 hopefuls glaring for space!I was sure I was in the wrong place .The walls intimidated me,the seniors helping around intimidated me ,the crazy voices intimidated me,everything looked like a gigantic cauldron where my tiny little existence didn't seem to matter.Admission was the last thing on kind mind,I was busy checking out guys in the unending rows, not a single one looked tempting enough.After spending a couple of pointless hours near the main building we were finally asked to go to the Derozio building.We must have been merry-go-rounding around the main building for god knows how long till we ultimately thought of crossing the roads to the distant structures visible through the green mesh of fencing around the huge football cage.The only triumph was when some hopeful's father asked me how much I had got in maths(probably considering his child's record unbreakable).My answer put him off.
I returned to its precincts with an even greater belief that I wouldn't pass the test.The class was huge, the distance between the fixed sitting and writing desks back breaking and the people around me frightening.The test began with an eerie silence pervading the place. An hour later I saw one of my acquaintances shoot out of the room-was it that easy, I wondered.As if the test was not bad enough the fellow beside me started discussing the answers as soon as our papers were snatched off and making it his exclusive right to remind me of my mistakes.I hated the confidence he oozed,thank god he didn't make it.But on second thoughts, wouldn't have minded,he was cute.
Not much happened after this ,I pulled up all my remaining strength and broken spirit and rushed out to escape ,firmly believing that I would never be called back