Aj lazy dog jumps over the quick brown fox.

An amazing anecdote
about an adventitious altar:

Baked beans blast boring boulders,
briskly bringing back bricks - blue but black.

Cacophonous coloured clocks count,
calling cauldrons of Can.

Developing diagrams depict
delusional diamonds displaying dreams.

even eternal, equally ephemeral,
eight eigenvalues exact equations.

fizzling fits force Floyd,
fighting figments for Final formation.

Great God generously gave,
Grub generated, gallons gyrated.

Heavy Hands handle Heavens,
Holding Hell , heralding Horace.

Indigo inundated India's Indus,
informing ill,ignorant innocence.

jealous jokers jauntily joke
joylessly jesting justless Jews.

King Karna kindled Karnataka,
kindly kissing Karma.

Lovely ladies lay,
luring lined lunatics.

Me Me moron,
my man Manu!

No no nutjob ,
never never!

O O Oormila,
of ordinary onyx ornate.

Please pass pity,
prune pikes poorly prudent.

Querulously Queen Quincy quietly quorums
"Quality Quills Quick!

Rape Revolting Retards,
regretlessly rapture regenerating rogues!"

So slaughtered sixty six servants,
seventy seven simpletons.

Tired trying toppling tyranny,
tenaciously talk, the technical Tarzans.

Unless Ulysses' unreturned unsavoriness
ushers unspeakable unto us,

Vendetta vandalizes virtueless victors,
vindicating virtue, vilifying vile.

Where, When, Why
would wise woman woo

Xanthate Xanadu Xanthomizes
Xylaphoneless x-mases

Yes, you yearn yellow
yet yellow yells, you yapping yahoo!

Zaire's zephyrs zanily zap
ze zealots's zed.

Of Nikola's Vision

If magnetic lines circulate time varying electric currents, should I not say magnets are bunches of electric current thrown to distort

Serenity.

What I learn today is this - vector fields are of two kinds - one called solenoidal from the greek word for pipe-shaped and the other

called irrotational field which means it is making itself to be represented as a dot product with any scalar field phi. We see these kind

of measurements for example on images for analysis and processing and such. The solenoidal or if I may, the rotational fields are

those which can be represented as a dot product with a Vector Potential A, such that the field v can be written as v = del X A.
Therefore, the dot with a cross product is bound to be zero too. This seems to be the foundations for the need for differential

calculas. We are highly indebted to Newton/Laplace for Calculas for they sat on shoulders of Giants then and today we on them!
Coming back to Electromagnetism, Magnetic field lines compose are solenoidal vector fields.


The Gauss' law make sense because Electric field lines exit positive charges and enter negative charges. If these charges are unsteady

over time, they give rise to time varying electric currents which in turn give rise to magnetic field lines. So, if we want to count how

many charges are on a closed surface, we just need to count the number of field lines coming out of each of them. After all, when we

break down large charges, they are after all composed of units of electrons. These charges are funny things. One day, a scientist said

that the quality of possessing something is negative and of not having is positive. On the other hand, our intuitional language tells us

that those that have should be positive and those without negative. This is pretty baffling.

After enough digression, I return back to the fact that the charge existing on a closed surface is established by just counting the

number of magnetic field lines. The denser magnetic field lines are nothing but responses of unequal distribution of charges. For

you see, before the creation of anything, everything was plain and motionless, serene as serene can be. In one astronomic expansion,

charges rearranged and set the clock in motion. Tick tock tick tock, it painted Creation, visible in infra red today and in the deepest

abysses of the electronic spectra.


That said (the fact that Gauss' Law is one of Maxwell's equations), the other is the magnetic counterpart. It says that there are no

independent magnetic poles, just lines of force going in loops and loops unto infinity. The do produce infinite lines, but their

geometry is a study I would love to be a part of. Because, not only are their geometries dependent on the geometry of charge

distribution, the very concept of a force's direction would be a great thing to look at. Thus, we can say that, for a plane that is perpendicular to a Gaussian surface, the number of magnetic lines that enter and leave cancel each other. Thus, this makes me wonder. It basically means to say that the forces are all the same.

Wait the fuck up!

for a brief moment of clarity in jumbled space...

there lights in the box, a convincing path through the maze.

a path that instructs the mundane.

no twisted dissembling or ideas profane.

no - not even the overdrove path of Desire,

for the Light shines at it’s end only like the tip of a pyre.

in the Visible, I see the solution

an anticlimactic version of pure reason.

Yet, as the box spins - devoid now of clear air,

I shout, ‘Wait the fuck up’, in severe despair!

A Thirsty Quench

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITAG6KagJ_I


Unkown are those people whose love met with love.
When we asked for lovely flowers, I got a garland of thorns my dove.
Unkown are those people whose love met with love.
When we asked for lovely flowers, I got a garland of thorns my dove.

Happiness Buildings I searched, though Sorrow's sawdust I received.
Happiness Buildings I searched, though Sorrow's sawdust I received.

Of Desire's Melody I desired, though my eye meets pieces of cold stone.
Heart's load clouded and went away, that Sad Thirst, I again got one.
When we asked for lovely flowers, I got a garland of thorns my dove.
Unkown are those people whose love met with love.

left Behind, oh left so astray, oh I got so left Behind,
after giving every friendship of a moment or two with.

Who has the patience to clasp the Lunatics' hand.
To us, even our own shadows oft appeared ghastly and bland.
When we asked for lovely flowers, I got a garland of thorns my dove.
Unkown are those people whose love met with love.

If this is what they call life, like this we will lead life.
If this is what they call life, like this we will lead life.
Won't utter a whiff, won't ever complain, drink our own tears of pain.
From sadness to be scared how am I to be,
Sad, He got me a hundred times from early.

When we asked for lovely flowers, I got a garland of thorns my dove.
Unkown are those people whose love met with love.

How it Ends.

My maternal grandma passed away today. At 87, she was a vanishing shadow of her glorious past. The cause unknown, she breathed her last, amidst just the hallucinated images of unborn twins, my grandfather, and the heydays of her life. Not a worldly soul around, it was an ironic death, having raised three and almost four generations of children. It was an inconsolable loss to the big branch of the family tree that she left behind. She was a great granddaughter, daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, great-great-grandmother!

Here was a pretty girl, having won the heart of her husband when young. Married to an intellectual, she upheld the dignity of an almost First Lady with aplomb. As, the pages of her life turned yellow, much like her Vishnu Sahasranama, she was left to fend her dignity amidst property disputes, quarreling siblings and a dead husband.

All alone, here in the US, far away from the warm embraces of my own mother and father, I am reconciling this great loss. Yet, on the other hand, words of a wise man is like a glowing lantern 5 miles away, while I stand in frozen waters on a cold wintry night. The words are there, hapless in the face of my misery. Then again, I heed those words "She led a fulfilling life and accomplished great things. After this, her job was done." She was a fallen leaf at the dawn of day, as Peter Kavanagh puts it. She makes way for fresh leaves, green like the lawn at dawn. I see that freshness of life, the heavy priceless weight of a thought carried since centuries. She had transferred it into my nephew, her great-grandson. I know that he will carry that thought with the same grace with which she carried it.
I see her eyes in him.
I see her walk in him.
I see her curiosity in him.
I see her love for ice cream and bananas in him.
I see her in him.


Although a great tragedy, I think a deeper tragedy would be when the amma or ajji or aye-bai in us dies.


This song from Devotchka is a veiled star, in the night sky, shining is my grandma letting me know, How it Ends........

Hold your grandmother's bible to your breast
Gonna put it to the test
You wanted it to be blessed
And in your heart
You know it to be true
You know what you gotta do
They all depend on you

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

There is no escape
From the slave catcher's songs
For all of the loved ones gone
Forever's not so long
And in your soul
They poked a million holes
But you never let them show
Come on its time to go

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

Now you've seen his face
And you know that there's a place in the sun
For all that you've done
For you and your children
No longer shall you need
You always wanted to believe
Just ask and you'll receive
Beyond your wildest dreams

And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end

You already know (You already know)
You already know (You already know)
You already know
How this will end

May Laxmibai Subbanagowda Patil (1924 - 2011) Rest in Peace