White noise is a random signal (or process) with a flat power spectral density. In other words, the signal's power spectral density has equal power in any band, at any center frequency, having a given bandwidth. White noise is considered analogous to white light which contains all frequencies.

Who am I?

Neo-hippie cinephile. Follower of the great Jim Morrison who once said "If the doors of perception are cleansed, everything would appear to man as it truly is, infinite."

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Random Laziness, or Lazy Randomness?

I am amazed how the delivery of maternal love from across the Atlantic Ocean prompted me to leave work relatively early and run to Chhotu's. Of course you are going to say that the materialism in the form of the Chaklis, Shankarpadi and Besan Laddoos was the real magnet, but in my defense, I did not even touch the Laddoos. What is even more astounding is how this nicely prioritized itself over an invitation at the new University campus, highlights of which were a promise of mid-week Scotch accompanied by discounted ice extended by the Prof and Bouthan's magical chholay. As I sat munching, I realized this was going to be a close fight with little knowledge of how wrong I was. The owner of our gym popped out of nowhere with white wings while fat bald Shankar Halwai had grown two little red horns and was hovering around like uninvited hijras at a wedding.

I had even left my bag behind at work, thinking that would force me to return and thus enter the gym. However, self-will and all other such angelic qualities that motivational speakers like to harp on were subject to a mass genocide this evening as the laziness quotient, subdued for a while probably because of the perceived Brownian motion of the brain cells, struck back with incredible vengeance employing a plush spread on Chhotu's divan made in Iran, or some such exotic oily mess. The W keeps boasting about LSD from his limited narcotic experience and how it made him feel the various veins in his brain, which incidentally is the same effect on the listener. But who needs psychedelic drugs when you have such royal comfort for your behind. I am not at all exaggerating when I say I could feel each and every vein in the derrière.

At some point Chhotu noted that this was the height of laziness since we didn't even change the channel when ads interrupted a slapstick comedy sitcom of Brad Garret's, whose humor was exponentially increased by the spread. Well, maybe for him. Shankar wanted to have a little more fun and slipped in a KFC ad with buckets of nothing but copious golden fried unhealthy chicken. How I wished the chicken could walk up to me on those plush leg pieces and walk back the avian equivalent of Somalian refugees. Once the gym idea had been completely murdered, a phone call to KFC proved that they didn't deliver fried storks and chickens to your door in this country. Dunno why they even have a phone then? A few Renaissance Youtube moments followed with me introducing Chhotu to such neo-classics as GMD and the Sutta Song. Bionic woman had replaced Garret on TV but refused to take her jacket off while running, even after the many requests my current state of inactivity allowed. So there was no point watching her.

The KFC had closed its doors on our stomachs by 8:30. After some Harold-Kumar camaraderie, we ended up at Carl's, where to compensate for the gym miss, I had a jalapeño burger sandwiched with a delicious cow and some golden deep fried groovy aloooooo over an Avant-Garde discussion of incidents during the formative years when we had heard our Dads swearing. The Brownian motion intensified as we were about to leave and I just had to smuggle out some black jahar (as the Dawg has rechristened it) in my translucent cup meant for water. The sudden activity from running away from the chasing Mexican employee who was running as if reminiscing her border crossing days made me miss dope like I miss Tina. Failed at having stopped me, it's as if she invoked the memory of some ancient Incan God because the moment I sat in the car, I was overcome by an exhaustive bout of coughing. Or maybe it was the virus' continued (more than a week now) infatuation with yours truly, shattering the notions of possible withdrawal symptoms.

Without access to any of the herb, Chhotu introduced the idea of hookkah. We couldn't connect to any of the unsecured networks while driving around to access Local Google. Sheah! And they call this place the Tech Capital of the World! Once home, Chhotu started reading reviews of these places and expressed fear of large not so fair and lovely men at such an hour at these places. I acted like that pissed me off and walked out on his open jaw and door.

The Blue Lady was singing 'Under Pressure' to me when I noticed that the load from my bag from work was potent enough to signal the passenger seatbelt sensor sign. Deep isn't it? The White Lady though, scarred for life from the hurt of showing misguided blind sheep the way during dark shepherd-less moments, shining like a Crazy Diamond against a navy starless uniform was showing me the path home. On chaining up my light jacket as a feeble protest to the sudden and unannounced onset of cold after sundown these days, I realized I was dressed for a funeral - in complete black like Johnny Cage, a prisoner to the demons within his inner self. I just hoped the funeral wasn't for any part of me. Once home, had to feign mental sobriety and disguise the coughing for the sake of a long distance phone call from Aunta, who for a change, made no mention of our family fortune teller's latest predictions about me.

Maybe the meeting of an old friend who goes by the name of August has sparked this random laziness, or lazy randomness, as he calls in from the Welfare State, or maybe it is the unsuccessful anticipation of the mind to attain Nirvanic calm. August, you SOB, stop f!@#ing with my mind and trying to make me Comfortably Numb. I don't want to be like you. I want to scream from the rooftops about my struggle with daily mundaneness, reach out to the White Lady and share a tear or two of anguish while the rest of the sheep sleep. I saw her during the day today too - feeble and tired against a supposedly clear backdrop. No one else did. Only I did. The Blue one has competition again these days I tell you. The White one may be round these days, and not as ever beautiful as the Blue one, but she gives me warmth and I can cry out my fears and lose my tears in her scars. But for how long? Isn't it only a matter of time before she too will leave me. Of course she will return, but will it be her again? Will she be my White Lady, or some poetic teen sensation too drunk in her moonlight to pay her real Romeo any heed?

9 comments:

Mala said...

Gosh I miss those days. Amidst all your poetic talk, the mundane me, got hooked to the hookah - mmmm...my favorite apple flavor. We do have a hookah bar very close to where we live (umm, no, that wasn't why we bought the house;) and you are invited again (refer to my reply on my blog) to come share the experience.

P.S. I think we should start a food delivery bijness. Cannot believe they deliver only pizza in prothom prithibi as compared to the tritiyo's.

ArSENik said...

I like mint, or double mint. Growing up in the middle-east in the late 90's, there wasn't much else to do than to become a connoisseur of hookah, or sheesha as they call it there. There was this one joint my fellow sinners and I used to frequent where the waiter would get excited everytime someone ordered apple flavor and make suggestive obscene hand movements to define this particular flavor.

PS: Arrey there is no comparison of the hospitality serbhices in tritiyo prithibi against those in prothom.

Mala said...

Sheesha and shwarma...hmmmm...makes me nostalgic. I have my memories of the middle-east too. :)

Erik I. Verriest said...

random shit! I didn't understand anything except the jalapeno burger
ERIK Verriest

sHoAiB said...

hookah -> Kuppa ..
Damn, i wanna get back to Kol
:(

ArSENik said...

@'Erik': I thought you dug randomness

@Shoaib: Kuppa?? That comment was more random than the post itself :)

dreamy said...

besan laddoo.

*sigh*

Kartik said...

damn Arsenik.. a great read... very Upamanyu Chatterjee...

ArSENik said...

@Kartik: Wow...if ever one had to give me a compliment....thanks buddy.

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