Flatmatation

The flight was cruising at 36,000 feet altitude. One Dr. Ramesh next to me, interrupted my “Nooru Janmaku” movie and enquired what I was doing, about my father’s occupation, whereabouts in my city, etc. His long semi-black beard was a bit intriguing at first but, Nagathihalli Chandrashekhar’s failed attempt to create an America America like ending was not so subtle. The pathetic movie may not have been my best choices in life, but was nevertheless the best distraction from my fellow homeopathic. At this point, captain announced his greetings to all of his fellow passengers first in  Arabic followed by English. I remember the word Shukran at the end of the long Arabic sentence. The on-board screen was showing the flight path to India from my origin. It was a long journey ahead and every minute was ticking very very slowly.

Paula may not have agreed to part ways and may have imparted on us a little more Spanish. L. Back may have wanted to show off his flying robot in the insides of that cutting edge research lab. Kelly might have wanted some more time with us to explain the intricacies of baking. Next morning Flatmatation ceased to exist. Paula is credited for inventing the word Flatmatation and is defined as the act of coming together of all flatmates in the common area and socialising in pyjamas. Nonetheless, the coming together of different religions and different backgrounds in one place and exchanging intriguing and some interesting ideas were the greatest turn on. Paula who showed great interest about my Indian origins and especially about the Big Fat Indian Wedding process. The 2 – 3 day event of the Indian marriages as opposed to the 3 hour weddings in the west was the topic of the night. Starting from the astrologer who acts the role of the business consultant for doing some complex mathematics to find out the relationship codes for the bride and the groom to the naming ceremony of the baby, culture and beliefs are deeply ingrained within the society. This well established theory of astrology in India and its complex mathematics can be commonly found to exist and is integrated seamlessly in every corner of this country. In essence for a typical arranged marriage, the basis is a set of complex mathematics equations and upon this foundation, the bride and groom are set to lead their life from then on and no turning back once done. This idea seemed intriguing to Paula since the divorce is not a completely accepted concept and the broken-up couple of such sorts are seen inappropriate in the society in the Hindu walk of life.

The blip on the on-screen board showed the location at the edge of Arabian sea near Gujarat. Seeing this, my joy knew no bounds and my destination was an hour’s distance. My philosophical idea of coming back home was becoming a reality and that would essentially complete it as a whole which seem to reflect a French philosopher Gilles Deleuze’s idea:

The return is a return to the beginning that is always situated in the middle. If one always returns after one’s wanderings – does one ever really depart?

This seeming generality had had its effects in my ways of thinking and a change in perspective felt quite natural. I somehow didn’t seem to complain about the utter chaos of traffic, the dogmas of religion, the disillusionment of possessing power of any kind, the patriotic idea seemed useless when the whole world has no boundaries seen from above; all these seem to mean nothing more than a smile.

India, I agree!

Inside outside

The bus was at the foothills of Srivari or Lord Venkateshwara temple, typically known as Tirupathi, the richest God of all Gods in India. People from all over the country come here for darshana (to be in presence of God). I was in my late teens when I had the opportunity to visit this place. I had heard only stories about this place in my childhood and whenever some relative visited this place, they used to come and supply Tirupathi laddus (a sacred sweet given as a blessing) for us. To my mind the laddus were a mystery and the stories revolving it. One fine morning, a middle aged person had arrived at our place and I was given this laddu. Naturally, any small kid if given a sweet wants to have more.  I rebelled to have more and the elders resisted to give me because it was sacred and not to be eaten in bigger quantities. I wasn’t sure why this was the case. I had two probabilities in my mind: One, the elders were sadists. Two, after I slept they would take out the remaining laddus and enjoy all the sacredness to themselves having a grin on their face while I was sleeping with a question which no God could answer. It was no probability after all and the laddus would never be mine.

This went on for quite some time until I had a rare chance to meet the source of the laddu itself. I was stupefied by the news that a ticket had been booked to this place which was my teen dream. Finally, I thought I could have all the sacredness which I was denied. The journey was still an hour’s drive and no iPod was available back then to retain the sanity of the mind. My parents had asked me to chant the name of Srivari himself as soon as the bus entered Andhra Pradesh, the state where Tirupathi is located. Enter the main temple of Srivari, and I had calculated that Srivari was a great God who is going to present himself to all humans if I sound the bell inside the temple. This was partly prejudiced because of the Srinivasa Kalyana movie and there was no backing for this theory. The bell had to be tested. It was fair to ask for a few miracles to happen such as bells sounding themselves, God talking to humanity and His voice echoing using the acoustics of the insides of the temple et cetera.

Enter the sanctum sanctorum; my wish for miracles was replaced by the sweet smell of the laddus. My father had briefed me about the preparations of it just in case. Yet, the smell was all pervading to resist. The God never spoke and the bell was too high to reach. Out I came and I didn’t know why I was dragged 500 kms for a 5 second darshana. I hadn’t even covered scanning the face and its features. The shoe-less police in the inside of the sanctum sanctorum with a lathi (stick) were the cruel overlords who were shoving the devotees like a sack of rice. The God didn’t say a word. The priest was busy doing the seva with a sacred aarti (light) for the highest paying devotees and they were made to sit in front of the God himself. I would have forgiven the shoving, but “twaraga twaraga jargandi” (move fast)?

“Mana kodaku America ki potunnadu cheduvedanki. Andaki Srivari ki dannam petti, visum ayye daanki vachhinnamu” (Our son is travelling to America for studies. We came here to beg for his blessings for our son’s visa to be done) was the conversation I overheard in front of me. The priest might have said “Manchidi Manchidi” (good good), but the Edukondalavada’s lesser mortals were in a hurry. 9:00 PM the same bus comes back and I might have wanted an iPod with a series of “How I Met Your Mother” or at least a PSP with NFS. A laddu is a laddu is a laddu… sigh!

Understanding India

The first thing I wanted to know is how to tell something about India to other nationals. Where do I start? If I meet a Greek, he will gladly tell me about the Spartans, Socretes, the neo-classical architecture etc. If I meet a Romanian, he will tell me about Dracula. If I meet an English, he will brag about Imperialism. If I meet a Scottish, he will explain me about Sir Walter Scott, Walter Wallace etc. If I meet an Indian, he will tell me about the US (oh yeah!). It is easier for me to blame my social sciences teachers in primary and high school for putting the entire class to sleep, but back then I couldn’t have afforded to think in any other way. The exponential fatigue which I have undergone in remembering those dates of the war may not be useful except to cite references but I pacify myself to have at least tried to win a battle that cannot be won anyway. Constant bombarding of these phrases ‘some king killed another’ or ‘some king captured some dynasty’ are still tucked away in the dark abyss of my head.

I certainly cannot begin the story of India where actually there is no beginning nor can I conclude because there is no end. Here the concept of time is absent and is rightfully the case where time is seen merely as a tool for orderly structuring of day-to-day life activities. If I had to form the basis I had to understand what India is not. It is very tempting to just brush it off and convince myself that it is a country made up of billion people and they eat spicy food (read curries). But, I decided to move on to see for myself if that is the case.

The unseen fabric which is the foundation of this culture rich country is hard to understand at a first glance. It is layered upon many centuries of stories and drama. With over 300 languages spoken across the country, this is truly United States of India. The language is definitely not a barrier and this is hugely evident from the most historic event; the winning of Cricket world cup by Indian team. The whole nation stood up and applauded. I find it rather very interesting when people from very diverse background converge on a single point and become one.

Long gone are those kings and queens and my generation is welcomed by business honchos such as Vijay Mallya, Ambanis and of course Narayanamurthys and Premjis. But, these are only a handful and yet very powerful who are capable of the upbringing of the lower cadre of the society. Yet, they somehow convince themselves and quench their thirst first and maybe lend half a hand to the other burning issues. The media which celebrates these big-wigs hog the headlines most often, while the common man’s woes are carefully nudged out of the scene.

The middle class may be on the rise, but transition for “Yes we can!” is on the brink. It is no surprise that every Indian shares a common man’s woes of corrupt politicians, but they all are deeply submerged in the adversaries of their own situation. They are waiting for someone to take charge while they are clueless and waiting for something to happen. This episode of waiting was put to an end by ‘Anna Hazare’. That’s what they thought! Never before after Independence India had witnessed such a huge population coming together for one cause. The media clearly outwitted the important facts about the Jan Lokpal bill and portrayed a grand celebration-like corrupt free nation. Does such skewing of facts serve any usefulness? Definitely not. People were only wasting time and media then jumped on to the next big thing forgetting all about ‘Anna Hazare’ in a week. I am of the opinion that this was seen as a cinema and the media were cashing on it. People watching televisions at home, were the best audience who enjoyed this 3 day event. They at once could see all people from Bangalore, New Delhi, Mumbai shouting every slogan they could think of and after a 3 day parade and shouting, it was all back to business. Then the media decides “Now let’s concentrate on IPL”. Though this coming together didn’t see any real culmination, it gave a confidence within the individuals that this could be done again.

India is witnessing Globalisation at this point, and the IT capital of India, Bangalore is the one to adopt it at the early stages with a spring of IT companies. This city has two advantages: 1. They are not much affected by local government since they are paid handsomely and hoping dollar prices be higher than rupee. 2. They are living in India with a relatively low cost of living enjoying the best of both worlds. These are only a 10% of the total population and still have a huge impact. The majority, 90% are really a worried lot who have left it to chance. Even so, this country is ploughing 8% GDP growth standing 4th position in the world economy. As one person rightly puts it, “Globalisation makes every citizen a consumer and the whole world a market” (How true!).

Which then brings me to the next question, culture. Quite frankly there is no easy answer to this. Some argue that the pub culture is what is in vogue which helps them blend in naturally with westerners. Others have a very orthodox approach who keep an idol of their favourite god on their workstations. Some others don’t care. But, it is interesting to see how they manage the religious rituals in the morning and party heavy in the night and yet be an Indian and an American earning in dollars and spending in rupees. English is the most widely used language although there are more than 300 Indian languages. Teachers will punish students if they speak any less English and yet there are regional language activists fighting to make the regional language a top priority in all government transactions. This steering in opposite directions is ripping apart the fabric of society and there is no consensus for one common approach. And yet, a person can be well versed in many languages and speak both the regional language with their relatives and show off English even if the accent is compromised. This is a land where Bond movies, Godfather etc are watched one hundred times and not be bored and, this is the same land that celebrates Ganesha festival with utmost humility. Are we witnessing the real East meets West? Are we shedding our dogma and embracing science keeping culture intact? I think we are tending towards it and but not there yet. The western counterparts are seeing the end of their generation, while the new generation in India shifts the scales to itself. This is not a raw optimism, but rather a possibility. I am not even hoping that India to be a superpower. Ramachandra Guha clearly explains why it is not possible in a concise manner here, but rather justify the first line of our Indian constitution:

WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC and to secure to all its citizens:

JUSTICE, social, economic and political;

LIBERTY of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;

EQUALITY of status and of opportunity;

and to promote among them all

FRATERNITY assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation

Other reasons for which I wish India should not become superpower because, if we become one, I am afraid that we can’t celebrate US any more and parents cannot pride themselves that their children are in US and they may have to say goodbye for applying US citizenships. They will not be any more focused meetings where Indian Americans get together and cannot talk in a condescending manner about the road situations and slums. Super power will put an end to such a fling. How then can regional language spoken in Americanised accent be celebrated with aunties gossiping in the kitchen? What will be the fate of black coffee? I am not ready to stick ‘Desi’ on my forehead for the rest of my life. I totally resent this move and I would rather be a slave and be called bloody Indian than show empathy towards that nation. I would rather be a hypocrite and stay where my talents are recognised and get paid more than worry about no running water. I would rather be fooled by the existence of Osama-bin-Laden and fooled by the death of him and head bang for the same in the pub that night than stand up for the nation and campaign for corrupt free nation. I would love to hear always “Is desh ka kuch nahi hota hai” ["there is no future for this country"] and that’s my phone’s ring tone.

So then, should I call this nation ‘The world in a nutshell’ ?

Why I am afraid of…?

Keys! That’s right, I am afraid of keys. When I am in a big hurry and no matter what the urgency is, I always and always should carry a backpack full of keys. Keys for cars, keys for small drawer at office, gazillion keys for house door, so on and so forth. In fact the whole point of life is revolving around keys. In a typical family scenario, when the family is about to go somewhere, one of the couples is a key “key” reminder.

Husband: “Honey, did you get the keys for front door, backyard door? Did you lock the safe and keep the keys in my bedroom or did you keep them in the small drawer full of keys? And,  did you put the drawer keys below the TV? Are you sure?”

One roommate to another: “Abe, mein abhi ghar aaya hu party se; tu kaha hai? Mein apna chaabi bhool gaya aur darwazaa bandh hai…Tu aake khol sakta hai, abhi!!!?” (“Dude, I just came home from a party. Where are you? I don’t have keys and I am locked out. Can you come over, NOW!? “)

Apart from the usual metal keys, we have all strange kinds of keys; plastic card type access keys, RFID type access keys, smart cards, dumb cards, and what not! I do not know how many keys are there on this earth. But, I do know it is greater than 6 billion. Maybe, “One Key Per Child” would be more apt.

Jails too are full of keys and they are a storehouse of all types of keys. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine if there were no keys, then lawyers would be non-existent. Lawyers always want to see someone or something behind the lock. Won’t they? Celebrities lock themselves up in their houses so that paparazzis won’t take a picture of them in a compromised position and sell it for millions of pounds. Keys find their best use when a parent wants to lock-up his/her problem child especially when the child is crying out too loud and is craving for a harmless candy. There are millions of websites which offer free keys. Keys to unlock trial version software to full version. Does that sound familiar? Microsoft loses millions of pounds because they can’t lock the software effectively.

Melinda: “Bill honey, why haven’t you locked it? You have left it wide open.”

Richard Stallman: “Melinda, I opened it all up”

People have from time immemorial became famous because they found a key to open something up. Unsung heroes such as Mahatma Gandhi who found a key to freedom, Thomas Edison found a key to light bulb, Wright Brothers found a key to fly, and you get the hang… The chaos with Tunisia, Egypt, Libya also revolves around people who are ruling and have all the keys. Subjects of these countries have fought or fighting bravely to obtain it back. See?

On the other hand, I often have to remind myself of having all the keys in my pocket for various things before I go out of that front door. I don’t want to listen to that “Honey, did you get the…”. “Yes, yes, yes, I don’t want to miss out on becoming an unsung hero.”

Near Easter

The Linux kernel developers follow religiously the documentation guidelines set forth before them. Greg, understandably gets very mad if it is violated and he has expressed it here. Anyway, developers do have some sense of humour and the culmination of it is here:

This is what I call a Linux Easter Egg!

click2sync.com

“Oh! I lost my phone”

“Not again, I forgot my phone in my friend’s place; Now I don’t remember my mom’s phone number to ask her what’s for dinner and she doesn’t check her mail…”

“Hey look here, my new shiny phone and I can store zillion phone numbers on it, but my old phone has so many contacts, I don’t know how to transfer it now. I definitely don’t want to look up and store each contact by hand”

Most of us may have had this kind of scenario or a similar one in the past. We take it for granted that the contacts we have on our phones will be there forever and we won’t realize the importance of it until some mishap happens. Nowadays, nobody remembers their own mobile phone numbers let alone someone else’s. Agreed that facebook and linkedin do have options to store the personal details and can be easily looked up when needed, but not everyone puts all the details such as phone numbers, email etc.

The problem increases in magnitude when professioanls who are in marketing who are always on the move and has all his/her precious contacts on the phone and losing it can be a deal breaker. Nevertheless, there is a solution to this problem and is addressed by a team of young professionals from India.

Let me introduce to you all <drum_roll> ConnectMe Informatics’ debut service called click2sync. This service provides with a unique solution which not only backs up your contacts on your phone, but also allows you to view it online on the Internet. Once, the contacts on your phone are synchronised with this service, it is stored there safely and as long as you want them to be there.</drum_roll>

The contacts can be easily retrieved to another mobile phone of yours and you don’t need to pay that mobile shop owner that dirty price everytime you buy a new mobile phone to transfer the contacts for you. For more information and how you can start using this service right away for free!, visit http://www.click2sync.com/Support/PhoneSetup.aspx. Yes, FREE!!

I know you may have tons of other questions and they are hopefully answered here: http://www.click2sync.com/Support/Faq.aspx

Happy syncing!

A series of fortunate events

For me, December has been a scintillating experience and a grand conclusion to the year. The pleasant visit to Trossacs near Scottish highlands, absolute fun with friends in London and act of disappearing amongst 80,000 people in Hogmanany was the icing on the cake. Elsewhere on Facebook just as expected everyone was doing their one liners “Happyyyyy Newwwww Yearrrr”, “May this year bring you peace, harmony and happiness” and sometimes they got more creative in exchanging harmony and happiness order. This was the best one that caught my eye. “Its new year people…. Keep that smile on”. Notice “its” and not “it’s”. I imagined a class teacher barging to a class whilst students busy doing their calculus on the new year’s eve and the teacher asking them to smile for a momentary five seconds before they could continue. Some status messages were more skeptical and were suggesting numerology on 1.1.11. Clearly, I was missing something here. Either I was ridiculously drunk and was seeing the entire world as a cliché or the entire world was drunk and I was a cliché. When I was just about to know the truth I was writing a happy new year message. I had nearly ten seconds to search for the logout link or else my brain would have wanted me to click ‘Share’. Time was ticking faster than it should be. I knew it was a drop down menu and the last link and there it was. I had survived the test of the new year.

In The Big Bus Tour, I was listening to this quote “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life” by Samuel Johnson. I was sitting on one of those open roof tops. This was two weeks back. The driver made many stops and one of those was at Notting Hill which is famous for Notting Hill movie. I think I saw that bookstore although I didn’t get down because I was waiting to see Koh-i-noor exhibited at Tower of London. We were supposed to take a cruise on River Thames from Westminster and a stop at Tower Bridge would take us there. The Tower of London is quite big and I was looking specifically for ‘Crown of Jewels’ where Koh-i-noor is exhibited. The entrance to that building has approximately two and a half feet thick metal door. The Koh-i-noor was fast approaching. It is kept in a glass box with velvet interiors. My first impressions of it was of its sheer size and I had to make several passes to see it in greater detail. It is really a very well cut diamond and it itself is a reflection of its beauty. It was a great moment I rejoiced. Thanks to generous Mr. Adi and his friends for accompanying me.

Three weeks back, I was travelling to Scottish highlands and was going towards a place called Callander where we had stop for lunch. My friend and myself had a quick grab at Greggs and hit to some random street. There we saw this:

The view was not only breathtaking but also shows the elegance and delicateness of nature. We made several stops and another interesting sight was the Scottish cow which lives only on these highlands. Scots call these Hairy Coos (So cute, no!).

Just a few days back I had attended a street party in one of the biggest events that happens every year in Edinburgh. On the new year’s eve some parts of the roads are closed for the welcoming of new year and all humans throng on the streets drinking, dancing etc etc. I was there to witness a very good show of fireworks in front of Edinburgh castle. We counted down from 17 till 1 and so it happened, 2011.

Many people asked me what was I about to do this year. I was yet to ascertain a new year’s resolution for myself for not even once I had pledged to do so. I remembered Jeff Bezos’ speech at Princeton University and I thought it was some of these questions I should ponder over.

Will inertia be your guide or will you follow your passions?
Will you follow dogma or will you be original?
Will you choose a life of ease or will you choose a life of service and adventure?
Will you wilt under criticism or will you follow your convictions?
Will you bluff it out when you are wrong or will you apologise?
Will you guard your heart against rejection or will you act when you fall in love?
Will you play it safe or a little bit swashbuckling?
When it is tough will you give up or will you be relentless?
Will you be a cynic or will you be a builder?
Will you be clever at the expense of others or will you be kind?

In the end we are our choices. Build yourself a great story.

Digital Religion

In this world where there are zillion religions, there exists quite a small but significant group of people called Technocrats. These dot com engineers are quite a mystery to other people as they only speak in 0s and 1s and most often in Java byte code. So, a typical man is often perplexed at such outrageous languages spoken amongst these natives walking along the streets. But, not all are talkative sorts as some will be tweeting on their mobile phones and a beep beep sound will make some of them laugh for hours. Quite intelligent you may think, but that’s just the beginning…

They think their religion is technology and computer their god. Sometimes even a processor too. But, it is interesting to note that they share quite a few similarities with earthlings. Firstly, if a common man may go to a religious temple, church or a mosque these natives surrender themselves in front of FOSS.in or BarCamp which are often the most sacred places. Secondly, if a common man may have wished for buying a brand new house or a car, these software engineers crave for a quad core or a DDR4 where they can house their precious code, compile and run. Like other religions where often there is heated exchanges as to which religion brings salvation to the humanity, these natives also have long debates as to which technology is better such as Android vs iOS, C++ vs Java, Pentium vs AMD, Windows vs Linux, etc. Sometimes, it gets brutal too when execution time in one language and an algorithm beats another by one billionth of a second; there will be war.

Long long ago, there were many male programmers who were contending to partner for one beautiful female programmer. The beauty should not be mistaken for physical features. These natives do not comprehend such obviousness. They saw in her a cross compiler which was a rarity in those times and she was none other than sita_glam. Men ogled at such all pervasiveness. One of the male programmers was ram_say, who in others opinion had extra digital capabilities. To win her hand, the male programmers had to program an entire compiler with an inverted image of the monitor in one hand. This story has been repeated innumerous times and has become insipid and everybody knows what happens in the end. Anyway, things have come a long way from those days when cross compilers are no more wished for, as a characteristic quality in female programmers as they have become quite common. These days too when men digitally poke a female and if the ACK does not arrive within a timeout period, it still is considered a taboo and they often pray one of the demigods, Richard Stallman for blessings.

These natives are sometimes sitting and doing nothing; you are just hallucinating. So, if a common man without knowing interrupts them, internally in these natives will cause a runtime exception and often will be very difficult to bring back to their normal state. The only thing that can be done to bring him back is a “Cold Boot”. But, this generally happens with fresher programmers since they are not in their stable state (yet!).  Nonetheless, the world of such natives is quite bizarre to the outside world and even if they do want to make some sense out if, no luck there since all transmissions are AES-256 encrypted.

Their private lives too are very unique compared to the lives of ordinary mortals. Their better halves usually maintain and clean up everyday code, neatly document it and check-in the code after merge. Sometimes, they also do a nightly build before going to bed. The kids are a messy lot sometimes. They often pester their parents to take them to the biggest “Code Contest for Kids” which happens every summer. Every day, husband and wife sync with each other wirelessly for a quick recap of the events.

When elderly programmers arrive at their place, they are often served with legacy systems to work on. It is a tradition amongst these elderly to only speak in Simula-67. Although, nowadays Simula-67 speaking natives are starting to decline, a campaign to bring back its glory is undergoing by re-introducing it in schools. An adolescent in a house will be always in charge of bug fixing as the family feels that it is the right path to bring up their children to make better programmers and face up to the brutal IT industry. Often you may see vendetta amongst some technocrats. They most probably will be between Linus Torvalds’ latest Linux Kernel and Bill Gates’ Windows OS. At such adverse times, modest middle class families will try to be diplomatic and never interfere in such riots and they turn off Internet which is a huge blow to the family. They can neither continue with their builds nor do a check-in. It is a devastating situation any technocrat can imagine.

Well, as always there are good days and although these problems are still wide awake in the face of these communities, yet the Softies and Linuses are neighbours and are happily developing even today and have no qualms whatsoever.Phew!

MeeGo – - handson

Just when the dust is settling with Android in the smartphone arena, there is something else silently brewing in the market. MeeGo, is another OS into the array of already crowded party. But, more the merrier. Briefly, MeeGo, is an open source operating system which runs on variety of hardware such as smartphone, netbooks, in-vehicle entertainment etc. It is based on Linux kernel and is headed by Intel and Nokia.

I installed the MeeGo – Netbook version, on my PC using VirtualBox for Windows to just get a feel of the bare bones MeeGo. So, this is what I did and if you are interested in testing the waters this is what you should do to get your MeeGo up and running for Windows:

1. Install VirtualBox which is a hypervisor, from here.

2. Download the MeeGo image for Netbooks from here. (Currently, I am using MeeGo v1.1)

3. The downloaded file will in the .img format and cannot be used to run on VirtualBox. To run correctly on VirtualBox, the .img file needs to be converted in to .vdi format.

This can be converted easily (steps a – d):

a. Open the command prompt and enter the path where you installed VirtualBox                (Ex: C:\Program Files\VirtualBox\) .

b. Under this folder, you should be able to locate an executable called VBoxManage.exe         (Ex: C:\Program Files\VirtualBox\VBoxManage.exe)

c. Now, locate the file where you downloaded MeeGo image for Netbooks                  (Ex:C:\MeeGo\meego-netbook-ia32-1.1.img)

d. Once this is set, it is all ready for conversion to .vdi file. You need to enter the command in the command prompt like shown below:

C:\Program Files\VirtualBox> VBoxManage.exe convertdd C:\MeeGo\meego-netbook-ia32-1.1.img   C:\MeeGo\meego-image.vdi

4. That will convert the file to .vdi and will be placed in C:\MeeGo\meego-image.vdi

5. Now, it is ready to be run on VirtualBox.

6. Run VirtualBox.

7. Click on New icon. You should see something like this:

8. Click on Next.

9. Type in a name. (Eg: MeeGo)

10. In the OS type, select Operating System as Linux and version as Other Linux from drop down menu. Click Next.

11. Allocate Base Memory Size as 512MB. Click Next.

12. In the Virtual Hard Disk dialog, check “Boot Hard Disk” if not checked. Click on “Use existing hard disk” radio button and browse for the .vdi file we just converted. (Ex: C:\MeeGo\meego-image.vdi)

13. Select Next.

14. Click Finish. It should look very similar to this:

15.  I promise, one last thing to do, before powering up the machine. Right click on meego virtual machine and click on Settings. Under System, go to Processor tab, check “Enable PAE/NX”. If this feature is not enabled, you get an error message “Unable to boot – please use a kernel appropriate for your CPU.”

16.  Now, let’s fire up the machine by clicking on Start on VirtualBox whilst MeeGo is selected.

The tricky part starts from here:

17.  The boot menu options on screen look like this:

18.  Press tab whilst selecting on “Boot MeeGo”. It looks like this:

19.  Delete the word “quiet” from the boot menu options and press Enter.

20.  The kernel will load and after sometime a blank screen will appear. At this time press Alt+F1. You should see something like this:

21.  Enter the login as “root” and password as “meego”.

22.  Several times, the screen toggles to another screen. To get back to terminal at any point, press Alt + F1.

23.  Finally, type this command and press Enter.

chmod u+s /usr/bin/Xorg

Note: While typing this command, the terminal may vanish. At any point to get back to the terminal, simply press Alt + F1 to restore back the terminal.

24.  That’s all Amigos! MeeGo should be up and running.

Morning reminiscence

It was one those days in my life when paradox happened. I had cursed my entire self for having not completed the assignment in time and had to pay the price; waking up early in the morning at 3:30 AM and head to lab to draft a very boring documentation. Every second from the time I decided to put myself in to this situation was very very painful. I do not know what was painful, whether the thought of waking up early, or not completing in time. The outside temperature was -15C and certainly not a great way to start the day. It took me precious 5 minutes to deck up for the great journey, on foot. It was like one of those legend stories, when the knights and warriors arm their bodies with armours and shields and set themselves ready for a great fight ahead. The only difference was I was neither a legend nor my snow jacket was made of sky iron.

Off I go, ploughing ice from my boot. I was assuring myself, that universe had conspired against me and some bugger would mug me and I would lay there suffering from hypothermia. Unlike Bangalore, I cannot search for one of those petty tea shops which are strategically present in front of big buildings. These shops attract all class of people and I am no exception. At first glance, it looks like gluttony. Be warned, it is a deception. This is where great minds are at their best. Many of my team mates and I preferred these shops than the plush office cafeteria. You might question, why? Perhaps, presence of these tea stalls gave us a kind of respite from the office groove and get back in touch with other tea aficionados from other cubicles. A typical scene is, a man with a cigarette in one hand and a small cone shaped glass filled with tea in other. I have never tried cigarette along with tea. But, after a brief enquiry with my friend suggested that it makes for a great combination. The price, 2.50 for a cup of tea and 3.00 for a cigarette. These tea stall owners are inevitably named as “Ramanna” or some “Anna” or unmistakably very similar sounding.

If the shop is reasonably big, there will be a helper who does the tea making as the owner takes the orders from the customers and collects money. Another important thing you might notice is that, these tea shop owners are a very generous kind and they really think their customers are genuine and loyal too. They serve whatever the customer orders without any upfront payment. Mind you, the customers are not sitting in a closed environment, instead they are standing on a pavement adjacent to the road. There is every possibility that these customers may vanish without turning up a buck. But, as far I have seen, none do that. Strange it may seem, the responsibility lies on the customers to tender exact amount for the things they have bought and the owner believes it to be true and accepts it.

These shops are also a source of small eateries and one of those innovative ones as well. One such I have had was “Bun Butter Congress” or for short BBC which is a desi version of burger. You can also customize your BBC as well by adding/removing certain ingredients. For an observer who has never been to such shops, it might look run down, but a closer look might reveal just how much these shops have to offer. Of course, if you are unapologetically hygienic, even then these places won’t make you sick for a cup of tea. Interestingly, the taste is very peculiar and nice but limited to these shops. If we were having tea at around 4:00 PM, then hot “Onion Bhajjis” accompanied by chutney was one of those great ways to tickle taste buds. And, if it is raining, so much the better. Hot lemon tea is another variant and is a different class altogether whose taste is hard to describe and I make no effort to do so either.

Alright, I was still ploughing ice and tea shops are non-existent here. My friend, John offered me some black coffee while I had managed to finish much of my work by 8:30 AM. I gladly accepted (as if I had a choice). So, we both decided to break and head to the lobby. Sun was out after a very long time and we were both over joyous at such a rare phenomenon.

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While I was still stupefied at this show, John made me listen to “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd and the scene became ethereally beautiful. The city was the diamond in the dark and very silently it unraveled itself as the sun shone. Those snow laden buildings were looking very different from what I had previously witnessed. The whole city had magically transformed itself in to a new one within a week. We stood there in front of this mystical dance for almost fifteen minutes, but could hardly notice the time pass by. It may be the worst snowfall in 20 years, but for me it was the best snowfall and the first as well. Paradoxically, the same road I had walked on early in the morning was one of those beautiful roads I had walked on in the Athens of the North.

P.S: All photos are taken from my HTC Wildfire.