Appraisal time cometh—will you toot your horn?

It’s that time of the year when you try to bell the cat—get yourself pegged across the curves of a bell, to be more precise.

From the pop-artist, Peter Blake 

Why should I blow the horn, even if I’m musically inclined
Why should I bluff the guff—no, my gift of the gab does not render me obliged

Odd antics, feathers aflutter, vulgar displays beckon nary an invite
If my work speaks louder than words, I care not for embellishments to fight

For if your supervisor fails to appreciate your work, and your worth, that’s dereliction of duty too
Rewarding braggarts and fluff instead—O' what the corporate world has come to

Yes, I am musically inclined, but tootin’ my horn is not my creed
You see, I heard Diddley as a kid, he’s taught me well how to read

I have a good mind to work toward instilling a labor law statute that absolves individuals from participating in annual appraisals, making it a matter of choice.

-- Penned on April 6, 2017, while seeing my colleagues abuzz filling their appraisal forms. Wondering if people can guess the song the last line alludes to.

Empty chairs and empty desks

It’s always sad to see a dear colleague leave. Here’s an ode from the stationary stationery on the departure of their transient owners. Dedicated to Nidhi Vikram Choudhury.

Empty chairs and empty desks

Light and free, yet heavy with gloom
O’ the irony of not bearing any bloom

Do I miss you, or do I miss the work you dispensed
'Tis only a matter of time, someone new will get commenced

Fickle as ever, cast in stone my owner never shall be
One day, you see, even your body will be emptied and free

Empty chairs and empty desks, emptied of their transient soul
Fill they will, sooner or later, but that’s never been the goal

For there are things that will never be emptied of the loving warmth of your heart of pure gold 
The bleeding hearts you left behind, forlorn in remembrance, will never be emptied, they’ll never grow cold

21 Long Years

My new poem, dedicated to all my long-lost school friends, especially Abhinav Karnwal, whom I met with Suraj Suvarna after a gap of 21 long years.

From a time of wild abandon, with not much to worry or care
Except, of course, of falling grades or hearty treats and fare

A time when even landlines were scarce
I remember how flaunting an email address was then a gasconading affair

Seems just like yesterday, but it’s been 21 long years
Wonder how we forgot, we never were the types who’d say “who cares”

From a time when seeing each other meant feeling our resonating heart beats
To a time when the heart now skips a beat while walking down memory streets

Prolonging the longing, our relations almost got severed
Thankful I am of the blessing the virtual world is, ’tis what got us back cohered

From being kids to having ones of our own
Life sure skedaddles and skids—21 long years it’d be, who’d have known

Thrones to some, to others mere tatters
Where friendship dwells, money hardly matters

Pot bellies to some, to others receding hair
Still remain a few things unchanged, sans threadbare

The unfazed warmth for each other, and the smiles in our hearts remain to cheer
Forever and ever, come another 21 or many more a year

From left to right: Suraj Suvarna, yours truly, and Abhinav Karnwal

(@Geoffrey's, Saket)

Semantic Boolean Analysis of "Resist"

In my previous blog about Rififi, I had initially used the sentence "…I couldn't resist not writing about Rififi." I wondered if I'd made a mistake. Indeed, I had, which I later corrected to "…I couldn't resist writing about Rififi." Using an extra "not" had totally changed the meaning. Here's the Boolean analysis.

• resist writing => I don't write
• not resist writing => I write
• resist not writing => I write
• not resist not writing => I don't write

"Resist" beautifully takes on the role of the Boolean operand NOT. An even number of NOT operands cancel or negate each other. That is, NOT(NOT(X)) = X

And an odd number of NOT operands function as a single NOT. That is, NOT(NOT(NOT(X))) = NOT(X)

Hence,

• I couldn't resist not writing = NOT(NOT(NOT(write))) = NOT(write) => I don't write
• I couldn't resist writing = NOT(NOT(write)) = write => I write

Therefore, I corrected the sentence as I did write about Rififi.

I couldn't resist writing about the semantic Boolean analysis of "Resist!" - Faezal

It is the weak who give into their inner Rififi

Being the eternal sloth too impatient to stay glued to the tube for long, I never imagined that I’d be writing about a movie someday. Thanks to one of my best friends, Sonja (Sonia Kumar), whose persistent cajoling drew into me the finer aspects of appreciating movies and good stories, and an apparently not-so-significant-to-the-plot moment from the movie that deeply touched my heart, I couldn’t resist writing about Rififi.

I discovered the movie in a strange way. As is my wont of studying about medicines, I came across Rifampicin while searching potent antibiotics for my chronic acne breakouts. The pharmacists who discovered this antibiotic in the 1950s were fans of Rififi, who they named it after. I further dug into it and found an old print of the French movie with English subtitles.

Glad that I discovered the movie, I could write a book on it, but there’s no point in repeating the tons of its critical appreciation. To begin with, you can get a fair idea about the movie on Wikipedia. Jules Dassin—the director of the movie, who also starred in it as the safe breaker—executed the movie in legendary conditions with a low budget while on the run after getting blacklisted from Hollywood because of some alleged political affiliations (ironic as I thought Hollywood was untouched by petty politics).

Rififi is a classic jewelry heist movie set in Paris, 1955. The brilliance of the plot and its direction lies in the fact that it gets the audience rooting for criminals. Devoid of the typical fanfare of Hollywood movies, the most impactful part of the film is the realism of the heist and its clockwork precision—filmed with no background score or dialogues, briefly rendering it as almost a silent movie. Not only was the movie’s plot of the heist fashioned on a real burglary, it also influenced many a burglar for similar attempts in real life.

The movie excels in portraying the humane aspects of criminals. Behind their tough guise, they are only human with common aspirations for love, wealth and prosperity. That they can be men of character who honor their words, that they can have broken hearts, that they can have loving families for whom they are ready to die for—is all very beautifully depicted in the movie. But most important, the movie depicts how even the perfect heist can get undone by the foibles of humanity.

Louise (Janine Darcey) and Jo (Carl Möhner)
on hearing the news about their kidnapped son

I will not be a spoilsport and get into the details of the plot, but here’s what I found to be the defining moment of the movie that compelled me to write this blog. After executing the heist, the protagonists get chased by a rival gang. The rival gang kidnaps the son of one of the protagonists, Jo, as ransom for the spoils of the thievery. Jo had reveled in executing the heist, as if it were a game that he played well and won, but he realized what it meant to steal when his son got stolen from him.

The mastermind of the heist, Tony, is the godfather of Jo’s son. He promises to get Jo’s son back. Worriedly awaiting Tony’s phone call about their son, Jo and his wife (Louise) exchange dialogues where Louise blames Jo for their predicament. Louise says to Jo:

• That his tough demeanor of a gangster was just a guise—a pretense of his underlying weakness.
• That his friends from his earlier days of poverty were stronger. They were stronger as they could resist giving into their temptations (of committing a crime).

So true! You may have ruled the world, but it all comes to naught if you can’t rule your mind. Controlling the inner demons is the biggest feat. Giving into temptations is the easiest thing one can do. Many a time, we give into temptations and make rash impulsive decisions only to repent later. This insightful dialogue from Louise may not appear to be significant to the overall plot of the movie’s heist theme, but I reckon it to be the most profound truth Rififi brought to the fore using crime as a metaphor.

Lately, I had been thinking of buying an expensive motorcycle at the cost of ignoring some important financial needs of my family. Having deferred the biking plans, I’m sure my future ride will be sweeter—for I have controlled my inner Rififi.

Sigh! :-( The Tiger Explorer will have to wait. - Faezal

Predictive Analytics: I’m getting sick three days from now

While working on a Predictive Analytics case study, I got a bit carried away after reading the honeypotting techniques used by active defense systems, such as Mykonos, that use predictive analytics for thwarting cyber threats well in advance of the actual attack. Reminded me of one of my fave sci-fi movies—Tom Cruise's Minority Report.

Predictive analytics didn't work with my boss!

Armed with all the buzz words, I spiritedly walked up to my boss and asked her for a leave three days from now. When she asked why, I told her: “Based on the consistent rise in my body temperature, I see a clear trend whereby I’ll have fever in excess of 104 degrees Fahrenheit three days henceforth. You see, I’ve used cutting edge predictive analytics algos for the conclusion.”

Pat came her reply, “Based on my predictive analytics, without using any algorithms, you’ll soon be fired if you don’t stop using quirky excuses.”

I didn't get the leave, but her reply sure set my temperature soaring!

At work, to lay off the slumber! - Faezal

To be acquisitive or not to be: A Dickensian twist to the Shakespearean dilemma

Was just reading an article my dad emailed me about Charles Dickens and his first visit to the U.S. in 1842, how it turned from good to bad, how it brought upon a change of opinion where he felt disappointed and even termed Americans as ‘acquisitive’ by nature. (The details can be read in this BBC article that beautifully illustrates the wavering exchange of opinions between Dickens and the U.S.)

What caught my attention was the term ‘acquisitive.’ Its other forms being ‘acquisition,’ ‘acquiring,’ etc., it clearly connotes to the human want for accumulating possessions, coveting and desiring material goods. Many consider this as the bane of humanity. Even Buddhism, for that matter, advocates the renunciation of all desires as the path to salvation.

What I find most funny is that the very quest for moksha, nirvana, or salvation is acquisitive in nature. At the heart of all things—be it material goods, or concepts such as salvation—lies our pursuit of, or the acquisition of, the elusive happiness.

What's wrong in a beggar's acquisitiveness for a square meal,
What's right in a pundit laboring in salvation's zeal

Neither in a gold digger’s adamancy,
Nor in an ascetic’s pursuit of moksha and his prophecy

Happiness is not to be found in a concept or material thing,

’Tis just a state of being that resides in a man’s heart within

At Hyderabad, after waking from my torpor resulting from an excess of tofu, the vegan paneer. – Faezal, Thursday, February 16, 2012, 19:00