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Archive for Felt

Feature request for mobile phones

You look at the caller id and then decide to ignore the call and never answer it or return it back.
Its boring, I think its killingly boring and extremely passé.

I want to be able to slam the phone down, downright slam it in the middle of conversation or even after a “Hi”. The whole dynamics (and kinetics) of slamming down the phone gives an entire different kind of satisfaction.

Hmm… its a good research question too.

P.S. Not ignoring anyone’s call, just reflecting upon the world in general.
It also ties back nicely to some research I did a while back! Eureka!
Eureka, Eureka :)

Irony

Plain simple life is what I lead.
The plainness and simplicity of it does not mean, it is non-hectic or smooth in any way. In fact, it is more hectic than various calendars or schedulers or my own mind can contain.
Plain simplicity however means that I am generally out-of-topics to talk about and I marvel at the people who can speak non stop. Of course, I can discuss school work, but one of my previous lives have taught me enough not to do that and in fact stops me from doing that.

And, when I am made to confront and undergo certain situations, the first and the most nagging thought that pushes its way through my mind is, “But this happens only to other people or people on TV”. And I am neither. And such moments are thick. Every second passes really s l o w l y, in fact refuses to.

To recap, I was doing my laundry tonight. And, I generally do laundry in nights. And generally, I choreograph these nights to be the nights when lots of submissions are due. So, I pop in the clothes into washer and dryer really late and I have to stay up to retrieve them and hence in bargain, I study, rather than giving in and sleep. I can’t say for sure at all, but lets delve into some maths, really elementary. I have spent around 15 months in this country. So roughly, lets say, around 30 or so laundry nights. And in none of these 30 times, did my load of may-leak-colors and require-cold-water and have dark hues ever accounted for more than a half or even a third of the washer capacity. I always feel bad when I stuff this load into the washer. Not only it is a a waste of my $2.5 (the money which would have otherwise funded my coffee, in that coffee shop in that building where without fail, I always get the coffee I did not want or request and is expensive, the few times the original request has been repeated, the money was politely refunded after lot of fumbling through with the bill/cash machine which always breaks down, delaying me for my meeting. This happens with such a regularity, that I no longer care as long as my cup has some caffeine in it), but also water and electricity wastage. The washer runs for a full load wasting too much water and energy. And on every laundry night, I have done my bit to destroy the environment a little more.

Of course, it irritates me and so much so that in my last shopping binge, I actually bought clothes which would go towards this load. Well, I think it was a perfect shopping criteria. To say it made me happy to see a full load of may-leak-colors and require-cold-water and have dark hues today for the first time in my life, would be an understatement. In fact, I did a victory dance. Of course, no one else washes clothes in vampire hours. “Full value for money”, I thought to myself, water chugging down into the bin did not make me feel guilty. Till, a friend of mine complained that I promised to call him yesterday and did not keep my promise. Uh-Oh, some thought bubble bursted. And, I woke up my roommate who had not slept entire day yesterday (I think I am a bad influence on her), grabbed her very cool iPhone, and sprinted down the stairs, two at a time.

And there, it was. Moment stopped, I am neither person on TV or the other person. This can’t be possibly happening. A very confused me with a totally confused phone motionless for five minutes. The phone does not work. :’( Room heater was employed, till my throat could not be any more dehumidified. Now dismantled phone lies near the laptop heat vent. Maybe, I should throw it in the dryers in which the whites are tumbling right now.

My hand, very accustomed to phone is feeling the loss already. What good can being phoneless bring and I can’t buy a phone till I have mulled for hours on end, the very hours that I don’t have? I am also expecting an important call on Monday, something regarding the trouble I got into because of my phone. This, anyways, was not the solution I was looking for.

Aarghness happening, I feel worse now. What an irony. And I am not even one of those people.

The fine art of art and around

I visited Denver Art Museum last week and a very fine place it is, I must admit. The museum is divided into 2 buildings – North building and newer Hamilton building. While North building houses (traditional) art in the traditional way from all over the world, the newer building is (in 1 word) jazzy.

The architect, Daniel Libeskind, drew inspiration from the beautiful Rockies while designing this building. The building being an interplay of different forms of geometry gives rise to so many various angles, slanting walls, unorthodox corners and different forms to space that you would hardly expect from a building. The art pieces too have been selected with utmost care. The art does the great justice to the spot it has been assigned and that very spot also brings out the best in the art. A few of the art pieces being chosen while the building was still under construction, so that the building can be customized for them and each other engage in a symbiosis of beauty.

This has a very strong and profound affect on the visitors. I, for one, felt dizzy at certain places, had the pulse quicken at other, temples throbbed at yet another, and had a greater visual intake at some. This was tightly integrated with what was on display and added to the meaning and beauty of art and the integration of art and space. Still, it was modern art on display, and some exhibits were totally lost on me. I am not a connoisseur and not even a know-er, so the blue painted square and the radials were just … just a blue square and radials to me.

All this experimentation with the space reminded me of my university’s Art Museum called Angles where no two walls meet at right angles. Climbing up and down the staircase is most peculiar and disorienting feeling. I feel, the Angles’ staircase is thus so that you can’t run up and down as it is no longer a realm of familiarity. It makes you take each step in consideration and slows you down so that you can look around and get a feel of the museum in a better way.

If you are around Denver, then do not miss DAM (Denver Art Museum) at all. Right now, it is exhibiting Vicki and Kent Logan’s art collection, out of which 3 were my favorites in the museum. I shall write about them later on, but I will stop goading about all the museums I have ever paid a visit right now.

Of spring and its effects, & of ice cream and cultures, and of books

The days keep getting more and more beautiful.
The warmth and cool breeze is something to experience after all that snow and cold (that can melt and vaporize your face away – something one would expect the heat to do it but extreme cold can also achieve)
So, the nice day bearing 80F stamp all over it makes it irresistible to be indoors. I duly and obediently took a stroll with a book; I am currently reading, in hand. Now those, who have spent a lot of time with me know I rarely ever leave house without keys/mobile/wallet. And the beauty and happiness all around me inspires me … to shop. I immediately follow my instincts which lead me to Barnes and Nobles. From there, I go off to Borders and finally buy something.

And all this while was not spent only enjoying but also apologizing to Emily Bronte, E.M. Forster and various others authors I have read ( but could not recollect :$ ). I love you and I loved your work, I really did, but pardon me when I thought that you overstretched it while mentioning how winters would make an invalid out of a man. Someone in the family would become sick with undiagnosable, someone would be “white as sheet” and then spring would break and picnic baskets would magically get prepared and small clearing would be found in woods and sheets be spread and so would be the food. The handkerchiefs would drop strategically and so on, and the “white a sheet” person would get the color back and that it would be great joyous family occasion.

I loved all that stuff, don’t get started on the how above written is terrible mish mash but I just could not understand how month of March could be just sooo heaven sent.

I understand now and I apologize.


Some days back someone just mentioned that one of his Turkish (?, not sure now) friend just could not eat cinnamon rolls here or any cookie or dessert which had a hint of cinnamon. In fact, it drove her crazy. Reason, in her culture cinnamon was used extensively for savory foods. And therefore cinnamon in desserts would make her go nuts. I experienced that when I ate a red bean (chili/kidney bean/rajmah/whatever) ice cream. It tastes ok, it is less creamy than an ice cream and yet not like those frozen candies. It tasted perfectly ok, it was an ice cream made of red beans and also had few beans sticking (hidden) inside it. Bonus! Everything was good, but I just could not eat it. I faced a mental block, I could not savor it at all, & it remained uneaten. On the other hand, I really liked the green tea ice cream (Mochis), no mental block there, not at all.













Mochi - Green Tea Icecream

The One that I liked
The One that I liked!

Azuki bean Icecream

The One that I didn't like
The One that I didn’t like!

The red bean ice cream reminded me of a particular incident from “the Magic Faraway tree” by Enid Blyton. This tree is gigantic and magical and it has a magical land on top of it hidden with clouds ( the clouds part is how I envision it). The characters ( Moonface, Tinks, and some children—> my poor poor memory) can climb upto this magic land (but have to be come down the tree before a certain time). Once they get into this land where they can get ice cream of any flavor they want, absolutely any and every flavor that is or is not, is available! One of them does not believe, orders a sardine ice cream and hey presto! gets it.

I, ahem, felt same.

Reflections (shamelessly copied :P)

I am posting links to the “thoughts on/about design” my classmates acquired this semester and very meticulously collected by fellow classmate Mingxian. I am shamelessly just putting the links. For my defense, why re-invent the wheel (it has the perfect design, you see :P )

What is design? Opinions from my classmates.

Freakonomics and Design

I go by the name of sbhandar in the university database. Something which well, u can imagine I am not quite fond of, shrutib or sbhandari would have been just so much better. Well now, no jokes about my name. Meet me in Bloomington… sometime, otherwise.

Probably…

watching 3 movies a week, every week is not that great an idea.

Re living

Just Google Earthed and travelled from Magarpatta City to Koregaon Park. Sigh

Theuth, Thamus, and planner

So when Egyptian god Theuth tells Egyptian king and god Thamus, that by inventing writing he has invented an elixir of memory, Thamus retorts back “...this invention will produce forgetfullness…You have invented an elixir not of memory but of reminding…”*

And 2 days back, I decided to use a planner to help me keep up with all those meetings, assignments, projects and etc.s. Now my over dependence and over reliability on the planner has started to scare me. What if I forget to put something down in the planner, what if it is lost, what if I forget it at home??? Feel pretty trapped by it, refer to it every 2 secs and can’t function without it now.

*from Plato’s Phaedrus

D807 and wonderland

I got a new phone, Samsung D807 a few days back. I don’t even remember when & I don’t even care for it. It was like, sitting out there looking good and I didn’t have time to get a listing pf phones I could have and choose the best out of them.

Though it is definetely good looking, I don’t like it. There are so many things out there which i don’t want or so many things which I want but the are not there. :( I should not be complaining much, after all I have hardly explored it. May be, I just don’t know. Most probably, I don’t.

Anyways, transferred a mp3 file to the phone, I can’t set it to my ringtone. They have provided one default ringtone, there is nothing to choose. When I am dialing some number, the font size is really huge, it shrinks it in the end to fits the no. on the screen. I prefer consistency. To set alarm you have to Applications>Alarm something stuff. or maybe something else, but its deeply embedded in the menu. As is bluetooth, somewhere deep inside the menu. I don’t like to loose things I am in need of. I can’t see the time off my phone (easily). There is only 1 key which lights up the phone (when not in use) and throws a huge dialog box “Unlock ?” which lies over the time. Now, that I really need to keep a tab on my time, minute by minute and I can’t do it. Its like needing it most and not finding it there.

I miss my K500i. Sorely. V Badly. It was such a wonderful thing, I love it and wud always.

Schedules are hectic. “Analysis Paralysis” is occuring all the time around me.  Our professor said, when sometimes you are facing abyss, scary as it might sound, it is best to jump in it. It is undoubtedly dark but who knows, you are being led to Wonderland.
I wish. I am trying to gather courage. After all, deadline is near.

Bollywood Calling

I have a certain design to submit.
I have a certain report to be written and submitted.
I have a certain mini project to be made and submitted.
I have a tight deadline to meet.
Each assignment has more than one delieverable. Thankfully, they are still in single digit.

I can hear girls partying next door.
I refused an invitation to some other party some time earlier.
Thankfully, my friend had me tuck in some Turkish food at some fancy nice restaurant. Its friday night.

My roomie gets me a mug of steaming hot coffee in the middle of night to keep my spirits high.
The room is strewn with papers and clothes.
She really can’t walk without stepping on my notebooks or clothes.
She is wearing chappals.
She feels sorry.

I sleep late in the night.
I wake up early in the morning to find a pencil still in my hand.
I can hardly see the carpet on the floor.

All I see is papers, clothes, books, empty coffee mug, light streaming in the room (made pink by my curtains), time (running out).

I feel like a struggling script writer trying her luck in Bollywood.

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