What is it with Indians and seats?
Right from the political big wigs battling it out with their coalition partners for that one last assembly seat. The wannabe doctor who shells out my entire decade's salary on 1 medical college seat. Or the much more easily observed species, the thundu guy.
Now the thundu guy is not easily identifiable unless he is in his natural habitat, which is either a railway station or a bus stand. The characteristic home stretch speed and the dexterous throw of the thundu through the window is a sight to behold. Over the years, our thundu guy has evolved into his post modern metrosexual equivalent, the paunch guy. So how do you identify this sub species.
1. Yet another Che t shirt? check.
2. Headphones? check.
3. Swanky laptopbag? check.
4. New fastrack watch? double check.
5. Nike shoes. check. Yup thats him.
Now we don't call him the Paunch guy for a purely numerical reason based on the items listed above.
The Paunch AKA Potbelly AKA (in our more expressive vernacular tongue) the thoppai.
Now how does this guy secure a seat? The power of the primordial belly is put to good use here. Since the laptop is too expensive to be used as a seat securer, it cannot be used as a substitute for the timeless thundu. So what does he do? He uses his belly. I kid you not when I say that on a crowded PTC bus, the power of the belly is too much to take. You will wilt eventually and vacate the standing spot right next to the aisle seat, in obeisance to the belly bearer. This way he gets the seat once the present occupant empties the seat.
Of course there are under developed variants which lack the vital belly but still make a fight for the seat. They use one of several techniques like the Pelvic push or Errant Elbow or the Slighly-risky-not-to-be-tried-at-home Salsa Leg Lock. Anyhow the moment I see one of these guys making a beeline for the seat, I get out of the firing zone.
In fact even if a seat right next to me were to suddenly be empty and even if there's no belly-bugger in a 10m radius I would still not take the seat. Not out of any misplaced sense of benevolence. Its not that I don't want to sit. The fact of the matter is most of the times I can't sit. The travails of the too tall traveler.
10 March, 2009
04 March, 2009
A Martian Marriage
Lets talk Math. Specifically the controversial Drake's Equation,
R is the average rate of star formation in our galaxy.
FP is the fraction of those stars that have planets.
NE is the average number of planets that can potentially support life per star that has planets.
FL is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop life at some point.
FI is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop intelligent life.
FC is the fraction of civilizations that develop a technology that releases detectable signs of their existence into space.
L is the length of time such civilizations release detectable signals into space.
Now this N is the number of civilizations in our galaxy with which communication might be possible. Unfortunately none of the values are calculable. But fortunately by very contrived mathematical models I was able to arrive at a strikingly similar equation.
r is the number of eligible girls on earth.
fp is the fraction of those girls that don't already have bfs/gfs and/or husbands.
ne is the average number of those girls whom I even have a remote chance of running into.
fl is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop life at some point. (And by life here I mean their existence of which I'm a part of i.e I must have somehow gotten to know them)
fi is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop intelligent life. (You can add other adjectives like pretty, has a good sense of humour as well but that's only gonna take the numbers lower)
fc is the fraction of such girls that develop a tendency to like me and be liked in return.
l is the length of time such girls release detectable signals into space. (Meaning before they realize what they have gotten into and make a run for their lives)
So there you go, that is the number of girls out there for me. Whats ironic though is the fact that all the corresponding variables in the Drake's equation are arguably* larger than the ones in my equation.
i.e
R >> r
FP >> fp
and so on.
which can imply only one thing,
Hence the number of girls out there for me is considerably smaller than the number of civilizations in our galaxy with which communication might be possible.
OK. So what do we do now.
Since the odds are obviously better with Drakes equation I decided that the next time a Martian makes contact I'm gonna propose marriage**.
* Don't ask me how, but if you still want to know - the calculation is based on heuristic analysis of existing stochastic simulations on individuals based on random sampling.
** Obviously, its gotta be a she-martian. Assuming they even have a notion of gender differentiation.
P.S this post is not to be construed as evidence of the author's growing desperation in matters of the heart. Rather it should be treated as what it is. An academic treatise on a matter of grave importance or BS spawned by a perennially bored brain.
N = R X FP X NE X FL X FI X FC X L
R is the average rate of star formation in our galaxy.
FP is the fraction of those stars that have planets.
NE is the average number of planets that can potentially support life per star that has planets.
FL is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop life at some point.
FI is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop intelligent life.
FC is the fraction of civilizations that develop a technology that releases detectable signs of their existence into space.
L is the length of time such civilizations release detectable signals into space.
Now this N is the number of civilizations in our galaxy with which communication might be possible. Unfortunately none of the values are calculable. But fortunately by very contrived mathematical models I was able to arrive at a strikingly similar equation.
n = r X fp X ne X fl X fi X fc X l
r is the number of eligible girls on earth.
fp is the fraction of those girls that don't already have bfs/gfs and/or husbands.
ne is the average number of those girls whom I even have a remote chance of running into.
fl is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop life at some point. (And by life here I mean their existence of which I'm a part of i.e I must have somehow gotten to know them)
fi is the fraction of the above that actually go on to develop intelligent life. (You can add other adjectives like pretty, has a good sense of humour as well but that's only gonna take the numbers lower)
fc is the fraction of such girls that develop a tendency to like me and be liked in return.
l is the length of time such girls release detectable signals into space. (Meaning before they realize what they have gotten into and make a run for their lives)
So there you go, that is the number of girls out there for me. Whats ironic though is the fact that all the corresponding variables in the Drake's equation are arguably* larger than the ones in my equation.
i.e
R >> r
FP >> fp
and so on.
which can imply only one thing,
n <<<< N
Hence the number of girls out there for me is considerably smaller than the number of civilizations in our galaxy with which communication might be possible.
OK. So what do we do now.
Since the odds are obviously better with Drakes equation I decided that the next time a Martian makes contact I'm gonna propose marriage**.
* Don't ask me how, but if you still want to know - the calculation is based on heuristic analysis of existing stochastic simulations on individuals based on random sampling.
** Obviously, its gotta be a she-martian. Assuming they even have a notion of gender differentiation.
P.S this post is not to be construed as evidence of the author's growing desperation in matters of the heart. Rather it should be treated as what it is. An academic treatise on a matter of grave importance or BS spawned by a perennially bored brain.
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