16,000 miles in the 34th month! I am very afraid to say this but the right turns are becoming easier – or at least feeling better…
Whether riding solo or in the group, the sensation of happiness while riding is unique. Of course, north Georgia roads make it that much more enjoyable.
As the old saying goes… Four wheels move the body… Two wheels move the soul!
Needed to work a little late last night. In between did some chapters on random sampling methods (in stats) with Niki. Looks like she is taking a liking to statistics just like me. (I started studying statistics in my junior year to – but that was in 1983).
Anyways, after everything was over – joined Sharmila, Dipanjan and Parijat for a quick drink at the local pub.
After moving to Atlanta in 2007, it took me quite some time to realize that my classmate from my department in college – Aluru Srinivas – also is in the same city. Met him after 1989 for the first time in 2014. Then three years later, in 2017, met him again along with some of our other hostel mates visiting at that time.
And then another three years later, I met him again yesterday. Good discussions around all our classmates and what they are up to these days. One of the topics I learnt about is how marketable a CS degree is – especially in academia. I have a CS degree too but I was never good enough for academia. My journey took me to the corporate side.
It was good seeing Aluru again!
This one is from Mirza Ghalib:
Yeh na thi hamari qismat, ke wisaal-e-yaar hota
Agar aur jeete rehtey, yehi intezaar hota.
Tere waade par jeeye hum to, yeh jaan jhoot jaana
Ke khushi se mar na jaate, agar aitbaar hota
Koi meray dil se poochhey, tere teer-e-neemkash ko
Yeh khalish kahan se hoti, jo jigar ke paar hota
Kahoon kisse main ke kya hai, shab-e-gham buri balaa hai
Mujhe kya bura tha marna, agar ek baar hota
Huye mar ke hum jo ruswa, huye kyun ka gharq-e-dariya
Na kabhi janaaza uth ta, na kahin mazaar hota
Yeh masaael-e-tasavvuf, yeh tera bayaan Ghalib
Tujhe hum Wali samajhte, jo na badaa khwar hota
The translation is from Khuswant Singh. Other than the lines I marked with ##. Those two lines were not there in the version Khuswant translated.
To be united with the beloved was not writ in my fate,
Had I lived any longer, it would have been the same long wait.
I lived on your promises, I knew they were not true,
Would not I have died of joy had I believed in you?
Ask my heart about the pain of love and it will tell you
The half-drawn bow’s the assassin, not the arrow that pierces through.
To whom can I speak of sorrows that come with the fading of light?
Death would be welcome, if it did not stand at my door every night.
##Disgraced as I shall be in death, why not I drown in the sea?
##Fated, as I am to not have a funeral, nor a tomb erected for me.
Your concern with mystic problems, Ghalib, your language is such
You could have passed off for a saint, had you not drunk so much.
