Saturday, September 17, 2011
Posted by Uttara Ananthakrishnan at 12:48 AM
Friday, June 24, 2011
- I am so much lesser contentious than I was. I don't voluntarily participate in debates, arguments unless and until the argument directly affects my happiness or has the potential to change the way I see my day.
- If there is an incredible personal achievement, it is getting over my aversion for data/maths. Remember the days of CATs when I would skip questions with tables and graphs? In the past 6 months, I have discovered what had gone wrong. Since all those scary math questions always dealt with calculations and seldom with logic, I have been looking at them in a very wrong way.
- My Google moment of the day comes when I am sitting in a meeting with a huge graph and I make interpretations on the fly. It feels incredible to sweep lakhs of data points, find logical inconsistencies and also decide which data would support my arguments. I am hugely indebted to this place for making me realize a knack that I have always had. As I do more and more of data analyses, I feel that it is a pity in all these years, math was always about how "fast" I find a product rather than how smartly I do it.
- My idea about what to respect in people has changed oh-so-much. I just learned to distance myself from anyone who make me grimace at the start of the day. It is so much more easier to pretend some people do not exist than pick up fights with the said people to prove a point.
- Most of all, these days, I feel genuinely happy for others when good things happen to them. I think this is because I am very happy with how things have worked out for me. Trust me, this is my biggest personal achievement coming from a family who thrives on maddening amount of competition, putting freakish amount of pressure on everyone they know!
Posted by Uttara Ananthakrishnan at 12:29 PM
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Put the clothes in the Washing Machine
Remove last week's clothes from the line and dump in iron bag
Cut potatoes and put in cooker for lunch
Put three spoons of coffee powder in the percolator for the filter coffee
Stretch on couch and read one week worth of Phd,XKCD,SMBC, Oatmeal and Abstruse Goose
Read the FB walls of all those I have missed seeing
Fix up a massage appointment
Bask in the fact that it is only 9 am and there is an entire weekend along the way
Posted by Uttara Ananthakrishnan at 11:05 AM
The Word Cynicism is derived from kunikos, a Greek word meaning “dog-like"
If only I get a penny every time I cringe at the following.
1) Howard Roarks wannabes-
I do not think you are cool because you think you are Howard Roark, personified . On the contrary, I think you are a jerk because you justify your jerkiness by quoting Rand. I hate the fact that you do not think about other people because Roark set the trend and the thousand others whom you don't want to care about think that is cool.
2) People who put Hrithik Roshan/ Salmaan Khan photos as profile pictures
Is it because you want the girls to know that you look like Salman Khan or do you actually want to meet girls who would think the smart guy in the picture is you?
3) The Niceones
I know you are not interested in any aspect of my life, so why bother asking about my job, my house, my kitten and my parents, before zeroing on the topic you wanted to talk me about.
4) Serial Taggers
People will read the post if it is visible on their feed. If they have time to attend quizzes about their names/dogs/vaastu shaastra/lovology, they have time to stumble onto your note/post . It is not really necessary to tag everyone on your friend list in order that the post catches their eye.
5) Mixed Cappers
WrItING LiKe this is NOT funky. It does not make you any cooler than the fake Adidas/Puma/Reebok shirt you are wearing.
:) - > ^-^ ? !
6) Men in Poetry
Please do not start blogs and write poems for picking up girls. I have known instances of blogs morphing in to cupid.coms where the hero wept to several heroines in poetry.
Okay, you saw the Inception and the Black Swan. You don't have to review it on FB before your popcorn becomes cold. Yes, Yes we know you have a very expensive Android phone by which you can access the internet.
There are some more, but it being a very tiring day, I cease here
Feel free to un-friend.
Posted by Uttara Ananthakrishnan at 11:02 AM
Thursday, January 13, 2011
It looks like my mother has donated my "Shruthi box" to the Hanumar Koil Bajanai. This just brought back so many memories. For those who don't know what a Shruti Box is, don't fear - I didn't either for a long time. According to Wikipedia, this "box" provides a "drone" when someone is singing, so that the singer doesn't accidentally lose her pitch. This box is very close to my heart because it symbolizes eleven years of trying to rebel and the incidental yelling and slamming of doors.
In the ripe age of four, I was inducted in to the world of music by this old man near our rice-mill, which made us refer to him with a sobriquet of "Rice-mill guy". Three days after the first class, he sent for my mother and told her with that it was impossible to invoke a sense of tone and pitch in my. My mother was deeply offended. She should have known better, as our genetic predisposition makes us sleep in the first rows of musical recitals.
She decided that I would fare better if I were to change schools as and start representing school in music competitions. This is how I ended up in TVS. This is how I stumbled into quizzing, where there were lesser girls who sang Aarahonam of Shankabaranam without batting an eyelid. My mother gave up on the school music and started entering me in her intradepartmental, under 12 music competitions.
In 1997-98, days Shruthi Boxes were like like the Louis Vittons of modern day women and all the cool kids (namely the ones that my mother looked at with unabashed envy) seemed to carry one. It was a minimum qualification for someone to be taken seriously in the musical arena and my very optimistic mother invested a significant amount of money and bought me one. She thought that it would do some good to my "image" as a singer than having a discoverable function of its own. However, no one in our household knew what to do with it when we got the box. It was such a mysterious device and it whined like a Moaning Myrtle when the dial was turned from one end to another.
Posted by Uttara Ananthakrishnan at 12:19 AM