Economists.. shall remain Economists!!!

"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

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...

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?

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

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

• 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

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

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

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

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

"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

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

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

End of an Era?

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..

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

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

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

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.

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

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