Through the Mirror

Despite my age, I am deeply infatuated with the computer. Over time, this infatuation has grown so much that I began buying books to educate myself in the technology as much as I could. The books were mostly software related of course and soon enough I realized to my delight that I could create a website from scratch, using languages like xhtml and javascript. This was not a blessing on every occasion. For example, given my total surrender to computers, I began visiting stores in search of new machines. Quite apart from the fact that I reduced my bank balance to alarmingly low levels in the process, the little room I use for my study got increasingly crowded with new computers. Needless to say, I own several of them and quite often, when I am tired of an older version, I gift it away to someone or the other.

Obviously therefore, I have found out that I can often repair my computer problems myself and the few people who visit me in my study, often find me surrounded by an opened up computer, its contents scattered all over the floor and I peeping into the innards of the mysterious CPU. Though I am not even sure if I need them all, I have at least three internet connections and my computers as well as cellphones are connected to each other through wi-fi. Most of the time, I succeed in connecting them up all by myself and when I fail, I call for help.

There is a young man in the business who takes care of the problems that I cannot solve and he understands the nature of my total surrender to the technology. What's particularly helpful as far as this young man is concerned is that he understands computer hardware better than I do. So, although I can fix a RAM stick for my machine without much trouble, there are occasions when I am at my wit's end about problems in the mother board (say). And then he comes along and works on the system for hours together if necessary and doesn't leave before things are in working shape. He is loth to leave me without a solution to the problem, because he is well aware that I am a psychologically retarded person who cannot live with a non-functioning networked computer system in my house. And believe me, I know that I don't really need anything so sophisticated. But then do women need all the jwellery they buy? Does Kamalji really need his whisky? Does Cheeniya need ... Actually, I don't know what Cheeniya needs.

My computer addiction has reached such a stage that I call up this young man at 1 AM in the morning if I think something needs to be discussed. I call up 24x7 services at midnight and talk to the boys and girls to repair things at my end. It is very easy to murder me. Just take away my computers and connected cell phones from me. Actually, there is another way I can be murdered. I am hyper-allergic to aspirin. The doctor has told me that even a micro miligram of acetylsalicylic acid, which is the scientific name for aspirin, will kill me within 15 seconds. So, I have told you my deepest secrets now. It is very easy to murder me, if murder is what you want to commit.

Going back to the computers once again, my friends, who are all around my age, have ostracised me. They have little interest in computers. I don't think they hate me, but they find me a bore. On the other hand, many of them have observed that I haven't been growing old according to natural laws. I can't say that this characterization has ever made me feel proud of myself. I don't know why youth should be a source of pride and old age a cause for lamentation. So, I am not vain at all, but I have gotten used to the fact that I am more close, mentally speaking as well as in terms of lack of wisdom, to younger people than to the old. Even my son refuses to help me with computer related problems. "I know you can do it yourself," is his package answer. "I have a lot of other work right now." Yet, when I see myself in the mirror, I am more than surprised. The guy who stares at me from the mirror is impossibly old. And I ask myself, "Is that really me? I don't feel the way he looks though!" I found no answer to this question and had stopped looking at that creature in the mirror.

Then, two days ago, this young man who looks after my computers had come over because my printer had developed a magnetic problem that I couldn't fix. He did what was necessary, but told me for the first time during our long association that he needed to leave early. He had to go and see another retired professor like me he said and there was some urgency concerning the visit. No, this prof was not married to computers. Quite the opposite in fact. He had been happily married to a human being for many years and the latter had left him without much notice at all. Like me, he lived with his wife alone and his wife having decided to depart for the other world, his life had turned into a complete mess. He had promised to supply some manuscript or the other to an organization and the deadline was only two days away. But he was so miserable in the empty house that he needed someone to go and help him organize his work on his computer.

I understood the problem and then told this young man that he had better hurry up. The other person needed him more than I did on that particular evening. He was relieved that I didn't bring up more problems for him relating to my computer and packed up his instruments quickly after testing my printer.

Then, just when he was about to leave with his assistant, he looked at me, his face expressing something in the nature of a kind concern, and said, "Sir, please don't hesitate to call me anytime you have a need. I will definitely come over."

I was surprised to hear this. "But I do call you at odd hours and you have always helped me fix things even over the phone!"

The man looked embarrassed when he heard me say this. Yet, given that he had a heavy duty to perform at the professor's house he was about to visit, he needed to convey his message as clearly as possible. So, he clarified further. "I am not talking about your computers Sir. I had Madam and you in my mind."

I stared at him in stunned silence, paid him his bill and asked him a question as softly as I could. "If I did call you, will you be able to make it in time?"

"I will surely give it a try Sir," said this wonderful young man.

After he left, I went and stood before the mirror in our bedroom. I think I recognized the person that was staring at me this time. He was telling me in no uncertain terms that death arrives through the mirror.

 

Dear navs23:

Anacin is "acetylsalicylic acid".

Regarding my interest in computer technology, it began around the early nineties of the last century. Microsoft was yet to announce its Windows OS and emails were all dos command based. (Of course, Macintosh existed, but price was a barrier.) Dos was pretty close to unix and I wish I had stuck to it and learnt unix a little better. I can still go for linux I guess, but 24 hours is all I have at hand. I got interested in computers partly because I was in charge of the Indian Statistical Institute at Delhi at the time and it had a large functioning Computer Division too. Naturally, I couldn't simply depend on what the experts in that department were telling me. For I had to take decisions (which involved a good deal of money) on server purchase and a whole lot of other networking problems. Another reason I got involved was that it was around this time that I felt attracted towards Latex. Even Latex those days was not menu driven. It was more Tex than Latex actually. Given the mathematical nature of my research (involving dynamic optimaization for infinite horizon problems), I loved the look of the papers I could write using Latex.

I decided to type the manuscript of my books myself using the Latex book format and give them to the publisher in crc (camera ready condition). The publisher being Oxford, there was some resistance from their side, especially wrt the diagrams, which I did on Word and then transformed to ps - eps format to insert into the Latex document. As you are a professional, you will realize that the initial Word diagrams, though innocent enough to the naked eye, did create a bit of a problem in the postscript format. Anyway, finally we were able to smoothen them out by using adobe photoshop etc, the details of which need not be discussed any further. But adobe photoshop could not have shown up when I was initially in the "game". I haven't kept track of the chronology. For books written around the mid nineties, I might have depended on their artists.

I suppose this is how it all happened. The hardware part of my interest, which I find less attractive (but do not look down upon, since I respect all forms of knowledge and possess the humility to acknowledge the insignificance of an individual's knowledge relative to the totality) started around 10 years ago. Probably that's the kind of recent you had in mind.

As I have already admitted, I am infinitely small by comparison.

As far as creative writing goes (as opposed to formal research) I do this entirely for my pleasure. If I have to write to make others happy, then I get constrained by their approvals. That goes against the whole spirit of writing. At least in my case. I used to be unhappy that people didn't respond to my compositions. But I have successfully changed my attitude more recently.

And, incidentally, I was engaged in a plagiarism when I said "Death comes through the mirror." It's a quote from Jean Cocteau's play Orpheus.

Love.

oj-da

 

Dear Kerman:

Thank you for this heart warming fb. I try my best to keep my mind active, but I am not sure that this is an easy task. I can't give it up, yet I know that I am not capable enough. Knowledge is vast and whatever we pick up are truly those Newtonian sea shells. It's best not to think too hard about the matter. Just enjoy whatever new piece of learning comes your way. There is no hierarchy in knowledge. Yet one needs to make a choice. Not everything appeals to everyone. But however knowledgeable you might become in any specific branch of learning, you remain inconsequentially small vis a vis Saraswati herself. This applies to Nobel Prize winners as well as simpletons like us. I try, that's all. It's in trying that the pleasure lies, not in winning medals.

Love.

Kaku

 

Dear Kamal:

All I can say is that you have a heart of gold. You understood what I felt about this young fellow, particularly so since my wife and I live alone and both are ageing. If anything should happen in the middle of the night, neither of us would know how to react. But I have no complaints. This is true about pretty much everybody in my generation. The fact that at least one young person has shown the kind of sensitivity that this computer technician desplayed should make us feel happy about the world we live in. I am elated that I have come across such a person. Such incidents re-establish your faith in God.

I am happy that you might consider my plan seriously and do see if you can rope Cheeniya in. Winter is the best time in Kolkata and except for 3 days in the second half of December, I have so far not committed to deliver any lecture. January too is fine. Cheeniya may find Kolkata winter cold and you will find it warm. Apart from that there are no other contra indications.

Who is this Panchali now? Well you go to Panchali and I take Cheeniya to Mocambo restaurant, or, better, Rajdhani, which is a completely vegetarian restaurant serving Rajasthani and Gujrati dishes!

Regards.

oj

 

Dear Sri:

One cannot respond to an fb like this at a moment's notice. But I am writing this quick one for the time being to thank you for saving my life. Yes, it is Orpheus indeed, and as you have pointed out correctly, I would be dead if I received your note too late for me to edit and correct. I owe my life to you now. I will write my second response tomorrow, since I am recuperating in the mental hospital right now.

In the meantime, can you please consider the plan I have proposed to Kamal about a possible Kolkata visit?

Best wishes.

oj