Houston we have a problem

Let's face it. Cards out on the table. Ever since the qualifiers disaster, I have lost all of my gumption. Disaster is probably a harsh word for this event considering I've been given somewhat of a second chance (more on that another time). But it will be one if whatever is inside of me doesn't buck up.

The past two months have been my most unproductive yet so far. All I did was write a 25 page paper which should have taken me a week (and it's still not done). Heck, I wrote a darn good 40 page review article on the whole field in under two months WITH coursework and what not. Analysis for the other project has to be now redone. Though thats not my fault, I should have caught RP's mistake right from the start and pushed at it instead of prolonging things.

So there, a wasted summer.

Maybe I burnt myself out the last two years. Maybe it, whatever it is, was catching up before the quals finally was the last straw. Or so I'd like to think. It's much more comforting to think of it like that as opposed to harsher things such as the fact that you've lost interest in your science. Honestly though I don't think it's that bad. I am, simply put, disheartened by the fact that I couldn't pass my quals because of a schmuck who was pissed that I didn't give him enough respect and who is now making it worse by dragging out the process while pretending to give a fuck.

When it happened, I kept thinking how it could turn out to be the best thing for me. I know this one CS prof in Vancouver who told his student to drop out of the program since his math skills were insufficient. The kid did drop out but within a year published a Science paper that got the prof asking him to come back. The kid said - no thanks you said my math was bad, am in Microsoft now.

Years ago, I got called a disappointment by a college principal in front of a whole crowd. That stung then, though now I laugh at it. And I came back with great stuff in my final sem. Years before that, during my 12th, I got accused of forging marks on a term paper. I got pissed and scored really high in the CBSE exam. Both times I faced my instigator afterwards, both times I said nothing. Both me and the deed left unacknowledged.

I think of these comebacks now, trying to get into that frame of mind. Easier said than done of course.

Maybe it's time to break things done, keep chopping at them and putting each in its place. Feelings and emotions and thoughts and ambitions and then..get to the work that needs to be done.

We have grand plans now dont we?

So..tick tock.

Knocking on a watermelon

Summer here means highway closures. So when I saw the highway Traffic Advisory Light flashing, while heading to Chicago airport, urging us to tune to AM 530, I perked up. Now, my mama told me when you see flashing advisory lights asking you to tune to AM 530, you tune to AM 530. So I did. And I found out my usual highway is blocked, and something about the way the lady said 'looo..oong delays' made me go uh-oh.

And so I took out the map - the good old fashioned map and traced alternative routes and bada boom later, I was cruising on the left lane when the right lanes are all backed up for 5 miles. And I reach in time to pick up this woman , with her bags and shoes (there is a dearth of footwear in cochin now).

Well, that felt good.

The highway gods did not take this work around too kindly, and blocked the hell out of us on the way back. We did make it back ok though.

There's a big watermelon that I bought, and I've been knocking on it every morning. I have no clue what to look for, but I just like doing it.

"Allright...

..... very well then"

is my advisor's favorite phrase.

One could very well claim it's his philosophy too.

It's that time of the year again

When I first saw the Tour, I was at a friend's house in Utah and he was flipping channels. "Look, there's Armstrong in yellow". This was in 2003, Armstrong's fifth year of contention. I remember looking up and saw this mass moving around a corner, vibrant colored and shaped like an arrow. Deciphering the color yellow was impossible, and it looked like all they do is ride all day.

And now, July will find me glued to the Tour. I've watched live it the last three years, watched the DVDs for the years before (the Armstrong years since '99) and know that I will be watching it next year as well.

The Tour is a three week story that moves through about 20 stages or so, with a couple of rest days. Each stage is a single-day race on its own. So you race a 100km race one day, go to sleep, get up in the morning and do it all over again for 20 days. The beginning of the race is all flat, and there's plenty of hard-core-big-motored fast riders who go at it. A week and a half later, they hit the Pyrenees mountains at which point the only thought is crossing the finish line.

There are stage winners, who win on a particular day and then there's the overall Tour leader, the maillot jaune, the guy who wears the yellow jersey. This guy is the leader of what is called the General Classification. Besides this, there's the Green Jersey for the sprinters, the Polka Dot Jersey which is for the mountain climbers, and the White jersey for the best young rider.

There are 22 teams this year, and each team has a leader that is targeting one of these jerseys. There are two or three lieutenants under this leader and then there are domestiques, whose sole job is to listen to team orders, protect the main guys from a crash and do the horse-work.

You can save up to 60% of your energy by riding behind another rider. So all the domestiques ride up front, letting the leader save his energy until the very end. Since each stage is a race, there are no shortage of guys who want the glory of being a stage winner. When the race starts, the whole group (called the peloton) start together, until a few brave fellows set off on their own. This is called the breakaway. The peloton then tries to catch up this breakaway, through a steady slow increase in pace. Teams get together, make the decision and then start leading the peloton, which explains the arrow shape. The peloton becomes this self-organizing thing moving steadily and with intent. You have to time the breakaway just right. Set off too early, you got a long-day's work riding alone. Set off too late - the peloton will catch up cuz the pace was alreader high. Then, they don't really treat you too kindly for making them work unnecessarily by sending you to the back.

Everything is a mixture of strategy, talent, endurance, road technicalities combined with luck.

And no prizes for guessing whom am supporting this year.