Gmail, Islam, Understanding

A couple of days ago, a red link showed up in my Gmail inbox page below the mailbox list. It said `Invite a Friend' [to use Gmail], and I was like OK, this may be my only chance to invite someone for I dunno, six months or a year or something, so I better make it good. And the only person I could think of who might appreciate a Gmail account was Faisal (and yes, Marvin, but he recently got himself a 1 GB Walla account so I thought a Gmail invitation would just confuse the poor guy). And Yaman would certainly not even understand the big deal about Gmail. So it's 1 GB, so what? He doesn't even use his 2 MB Hotmail account much. When Hotmail upgrades him to 250 MB, as they've promised to do soon, he probably won't even notice the difference.

So I called up Faisal and indirectly asked him what he thought of a Gmail account. He was interested but for the life of him couldn't figure out why I was asking these silly questions. But then he's probably used to that from me by now. As an aside, if I were called up and asked what I thought of Gmail, I'd probably make the connection immediately and expect an invite, but what the hey.... :-)

So, having assured myself that he would appreciate the benefits of having a Gmail account, I sent out the invite and congratulated myself on my wise decision.

Today, I signed in to Gmail and what should I see but 6 -- not one, but six -- invitations that I can give out to friends. Yikes. Sue me, but I think I'm running out of friends to invite. Nevertheless, I think I'll try. Alia could probably use the storage space, given her volume of correspondence, and Marvin, now that I come to think of it, could probably be persuaded to part with Walla for Gmail. Actually, I think I'll just email them, so there.

--

Now, I've finally finished Karen Armstrong's `History of Islam' -- not that it was huge or anything, but rather because I took a rather long hiatus to read other stuff. Dadiamma could never figure out why Dada leaves a book unfinished to start another one, and then finishes the first after the second, but I think that like me, he gets bored with one book after a while, no matter how interesting it is.

Anyway, Armstrong said something about why Muslim women might want to veil themselves from head to toe -- even though that is not required by the Quran -- that reminded me of my own affinity for my beard even when it was criticised roundly by both friends and family. Part of my rationale for the beard was, I don't care how I look to the rest of the world as long as I can have my way. Or, screw the rest of the world, I don't give a damn what they think. Or even, screw the rest of the world, I'll keep the beard just to irritate them!

So my being like that, I can certainly appreciate why some women might subscribe to the veil. It might irritate people, but I can appreciate the black irony of that and congratulate myself (!) for it.

--

This might sound shallow after the last paragraph, but I've come to realise that the most important thing I can ever learn is how to put myself in another person's shoes. In another word, empathy. The master's disciple may have concentrated on anger management[1], but I think if you understand the motivations behind people's actions, you'll find it a lot easier to control your temper. Now if only I could drill this into my head with a chainsaw. But no, it will probably take many years to fully absorb this idea.

[1] The story goes like this. A master once left his disciples to go on a trip. When he returned, he asked each of them what they had learned in his absence. They each enumerated the things they had learned, and the master was well pleased. However, when he came to the last pupil, and asked him what he had learnt, the pupil said he had learned only one thing. Hearing this, the master became very angry and struck the pupil. Then he asked him what he had learned. Calmy, the pupil replied, `I have learned never to lose my temper.'

Stuff

Well, my beard is gone. And for some people, good riddance. Damn, I miss it. After I had it shaved off, I felt like I looked completely different. Like another person. Mummy was ecstatic. Yaman was smirky as usual. Daddy didn't react -- I guess he's a stoic.

Meanwhile, this may come as a shock to me (!), but other people aren't as interested in my beard (or lack of one) as I might be.

I called up the Malaysian High Commission to ask about their student visa procedure and it turns out they have none. Monash U. will actually be doing all the work on my behalf, arranging my student pass. Then they will send it to me and wait for me at the airport. That's pretty much it. The lady at the High Commission explained it to me in excruciating detail. I was afraid I would grow old and die listening to her rambling on about the process.

In other news, I've come across some videos of Richard Feynman's QED (quantum electrodynamics, oh how I love those two words) lectures -- the same famous lectures that were compiled into the book Dada bought. I'm going through the videos one by one now. Feynman is an incredibly rich and interesting character. Witty, smart, and sophisticated, he's like the Indiana Jones of theoretical physics. I'd like to see a movie about him. Russell Crowe's A Beautiful Mind proved that thoughtful movies could be made of scientists. And Feynman is such an interesting character even if you leave aside his scientific achievements -- his days as a barfly, artist, raconteur, immersion tank experimenter, marching band player in Copacabana (Brazil) would make incredible fodder for a movie.

If they did make a movie on him, Matthew Perry would be perfectly placed to play him in about ten years' time, I think, if he (Perry) takes care of himself. I think they have the same facial structure and Perry's sense of humour would only help him. The only problem that might come up is Perry's voice. At the least he'll have to go through some practice to make it sound deeper. Might even try catching a cold :-)

My beard

Perhaps the time has finally come to let go of it. If I do go to the concert tomorrow, everyone (probably including me) will surely have a better time if I don't have it there. In any case, maybe the time has also come to explain why I have a beard in the first place.

I decided to grow a beard a few weeks after the A levels ended because I didn't really have much else to do and I was getting tired of shaving every other day. So through the past month I haven't touched my face with a razor, letting it all just run wild on my face. I've discovered some very interesting things about the way it grows, including the places where it doesn't (beside my lips, if anyone is interested).

I knew it could get itchy, having kept various forms of facial hair before; but then it also got sticky and dry, seemingly sucking all the moisture out of my skin. Then I got into this phase where I kept stroking the moustache and/or the beard continuously. Actually, I'm not sure I've recovered from that yet. I discovered that I don't have to worry about little bits of food getting stuck to it, but that now whenever I drink water some of it always ends up in the hair somehow.

I've also realised that all this hair makes me look more indigenous, more Bangladeshi really. In the past people have been confused as to where I'm from, and I guess this brings my appearance into a familiar level for most people.

Of course, most people I know have been vehemently against the beard (big surprise :-). Mummy and Nano have been against, Daddy, Yaman and Nana have reserved their judgement, and friends -- for the most part -- have been against. I tell them I just want to look a little different for a while, and I'll get rid of it sooner or later.

And finally, today looks like the perfect day to do it. The hartal before the concert. If the barber shop is open, that is.

maddox.xmission.com

[NOTE: NOT FOR KIDS, READ AT THE RISK OF BEING OFFENDED]

One of the funniest blogs I have ever seen. I'm classifying it as a blog even though Maddox (the author) doesn't mention `blog' anywhere on the site because it follows the general blogging convention, chronologically ordered, `article'-style posts on the same page/site. So, Maddox, has a hobby: maintaining a blog wherein he criticises possibly anything and everything that comes to his notice. These include such diverse topics as Honda civics, The Matrix revolutions, and George W. (suprise surprise :-) Bush. The main themes of his blog seem to be criticism and ridicule, which I admit I quite enjoy because I have something of a cynical streak myself.

Now, Maddox has received quite a lot of mail from readers, and has posted some of them on the site, with replies. It seems people just can't get past the fact that he is criticising things, and that he should stop. This seems to me absolutely analogous to the American right trying to take Howard Stern off the air because, they argue, he is `offensive to listeners'.

Now, my point is: if people don't like what is being said, why the heck do they read it/listen to it? They don't have to. Maddox or Stern aren't taking over their radios/computers and forcing the drivel down their throats. They can easily tune the radio to another channel, or go to another website.

It seems people have this tendency to proactively take offense at things which they come across, even if they themselves aren't directly being insulted. For example, Maddox isn't going to people's homes and telling them what to do; he is posting his own opinions to his own website -- and people are subsequently emailing him and telling him he is wrong/a dipshit/an asshole/whatever.

I got a Gmail account

I can hardly believe this. I've been invited to sign up for, and I have signed up for, Gmail. I for one thought you had to be a much more regular blogger to be invited to Gmail. Imagine my surprise when I signed in to Blogger.com and found the invitation.

Of course, I've read about the disadvantages of the Gmail account -- potential security issues, totally unsupported 1000 MB of storage that I could totally lose any time in the future, and so on. But on the whole I'm glad I signed up. It's very impressive. They've used JavaScript in a very standards-compliant way and have done amazing things with a Web page. Perhaps things that have never been done before with public Web pages. I could be wrong. Blogger.com has some pretty nifty features approximating to Gmail's, and Hotmail looks pretty cool too. I've heard that Outlook Web Access (hell, I've seen OWA) is liked a souped-up version of Hotmail.

But Gmail is the first I've ever experienced that's so ... well, nifty. And the conversation grouping feature is a masterstroke.

The only thing I don't like about Gmail (here it comes!) is its poorly-integrated address book. Sure, you can import contacts from your local CSV files, but after you have set up the contacts, you can only email one person at a time from the contacts window. And in the message composition window, there is no mention at all of any contacts you might have.

Uh, scratch that. It turns out as you start typing anything in the To: box, a little window listing possible email address or name matches is popped up for you to choose from using the arrow keys and then Tab or Enter. Nifty!

But an earlier gripe still remains. There's no way to quickly select (i.e. with check boxes or some such method) a whole bunch of contacts to mail to. And I haven't seen any mailing list facilities. That is, no way to create a contact that sends the message to multiple addresses.

All in all, though, I feel I'll really come to appreciate Gmail's power as the emails accumulate in the account and give Gmail a chance to show them to me in an organised manner.

Married life and Ferraris

I was going to post something like this yesterday but the browser crashed and I lost that post. You'd think I would have learned my lesson and be composing this and other posts offline on a text editor from now on but this is just more convenient.

Anyway, a couple of days ago I was watching Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson's show on MTV (Newlyweds, I think), and thinking about how married couples interact with each other. Well, actually I got to thinking about that later, because I was taking in the antics of Mr Lachey.

It was Valentine's Day and Mr and Mrs Lachey were getting ready for their romantic evening together in, ahem, different ways. While she bustled around the house setting up the dining and watching the Italian chef prepare the meal (main dish: lobster which the chef snapped in half with his bare hands while she looked on in horror), Nick drove off in his apparently newly-delivered Ferrari to do some golfing with someone who could only be his brother. (Aren't they in the same band together?) Drove off to golf, mind you, in a Ferrari. Dressed in slacks and other casual wear. No. My brain cannot digest this.

In the evening, they had their romantic evening -- at home, with background classical music performed by a hired mini-orchestra. Gifts and kisses were exchanged. Love was affirmed. All so musy-mushy it made me want to cry -- thinking a time might come when I'll probably have to do this stuff.

I know I'm no way near ready to get married. First off, I'm only 19. But that's just physically. I just cannot cross that gap yet to do what married couples have to do, I'm not mentally ready. And I can't see how I will ever be. I just don't have the patience to finesse a woman into telling me things in more or less straightforward fashion. But in the future -- who knows? I've come a long way already in terms of patience and getting some control over my emotions. I just hope I keep some kind of a grip on reality when I have to act soppy or romantic or whatever.

But back to Nick and Jessica. While I was watching the show I wondered why in the world the husband left his wife at home on Valentine's Day to go golfing in his new Ferrari with his brother. If I were him I'd do something like go off to Paris for a couple of days and stroll around the parks and cafes and whatever. Then again, when they signed up to do the show they might have agreed not to leave the country or something, I don't know.

Then as I saw that they had planned all along to spend the evening at home together, I realised that Nick had needed to go off for a while to prepare himself for what lay ahead. I can totally understand. I'm a guy. I guess everyone gets ready for something like this in their own way. Probably Jessica's way was to do what she was doing in the house. Cooking a bit, decorating, setting up.

It can't be easy for two adults to profess their dependence on each other. Not everybody can make it look as easy as Chandler and Monica do.

Relief

It seems I'm spared from the mind-numbing hassle of university applications -- for the time being.

I've decided to drop the idea of joining the undergraduate course at Monash and instead get into the Monash College diploma course. This one-year (or thereabouts) course will put me in the second year of university well prepared to handle the undergraduate course. It'll give me more time to prepare and finish with my A levels because it starts in October. Which, incidentally, means I get to spend my summer here. Woohoo! And Monash College is cheaper, class sizes are smaller, and Fareha foresees no problems for me.

In short, I'm incredibly glad I noticed this. If not for a series of entirely coincidental events which happened right after one another, I would never have. Which makes me wonder about these so-called `coincidences'.

More time here also means I'll be able to spend some time learning to drive and maybe take a training course in multimedia or Java programming (my preference). Maybe even play the guitar a bit more, who knows?

The only thing I have to worry about now are the Economics A level units next month. After they're over, I'll finally be able to relax.

Sluggishness

Sometimes I feel this great reluctance to get up and do anything. I'm so comfortable where I am that actually starting to do something, and changing the state I'm in now, seems, well, impossible. I've read in Bruce Eckel's blog that if we insist on making a big change to our situation, our minds revolt subconsciously and prevent us from effecting the change. But if we try to do something one small step at a time, we have a much easier time of handling it.

It's hard to go to university one small step at a time.

Typically I go to sleep around 23:30--00:00, and get up around 08:00. That's about eight hours of sleep, which is all I need. Of course, sometimes I get more and sometimes (rarely) less. Back in 2002, I had these bad nights where I couldn't close my eyes because it felt so uncomfortable, and spent half the night fighting to keep them closed. Then there were the nights I'd jerk back awake if I managed to drift off to sleep -- every damned time -- thus effectively getting no sleep for two-thirds of the night. Then, of course, there were the total brain breakdowns, where I felt like my concentration was getting continually shorted out by fuzzy random static. Not a good feeling, boys and girls. Thankfully, it's very rare.

Something interesting: all mammals dream, and no one knows why. Wonder what cats and dogs and the like dream about? I suspect it wouldn't make much sense to us. But it would be cool to `see' it (if that is even possible).

After dinner, things fall into place

It's almost time for bed. We've had a more or less good dinner at Don Giovanni's, and had all the basic birthday elements -- cake, candles, pictures (although I was in only one of them).

I got home to find my blog pretty much OK again -- last year's deleted stuff gone for good, and the new content and design viewable to the general public. I guess a few hours were all it took.

Yaman had a good haul from Erfan and Wahid Dada/Ruba Dadi. He's all set to order some more comics from Amazon.

I wonder how much influence I had on him in terms of getting him to like comics and books in general. He likes basically all the comics titles I do, but is much more selective when it comes to books. I'll read pretty much anything new I come across -- at least until I get bored. He'll look at the cover and decide on the spot whether to read it or not. He's into fantasy/sci-fi as far as I can tell, but not in a big way. Sure he's crazy about Asimov, but hasn't found out about Arthur C. Clarke or any others. (Harry Potter: yes.)

He also has different taste in magazines, or at least in one case -- Wisden Cricket. True, I've read some of the articles in one or two of them, but have not felt any compulsion, like I usually do with, say, PC World or Wired.

Also, he hasn't shown any interest in computers per se, beyond as gaming machines, or in programming. He also doesn't understand (or claims he doesn't understand) why someone would consider programming more fun than playing a (computer) game. What he doesn't realise is that it is perfectly plausible for a puzzle drive to manifest itself as a desire to solve programming problems.

Dash it all

OK, I've given up on my previous blog -- there's only so long I can wait for them to take it down. The new page is much better. I'll have to customise it, but for now it looks good.

I've always wanted a home page -- but Geocities makes for small fry and home pages are transient at best, boring at worst. (And I'm not talking about the ones that are dedicated to a specific topic -- those are usually OK insofar as their audiences are concerned. I'm talking about the `here I am!' pages that are put up as a rite of passge into the web.)

Anyway, getting back to the topic -- I guess this is as good a home page as any I've ever made. True, I didn't design and build it from the ground up; but in exchange (?) I'm getting all these advanced capabilites -- readers posting comments, individually manageable posts and blogs, and links to some great content (others' blogs -- there must be thousands of people doing this, and at least hundreds of interesting people).

Going to blog again

Decided to start blogging again. Medusa's Lair is nice because it's good for communication among us, but this is my spot, where I can pretty much post anything I like.

One reason I think I didn't latch on to the whole idea of blogging is maybe that I couldn't get into the mindset of sharing my private thoughts with the world at large. But then, nobody's forcing me to do that. All I have to do is share some of my thoughts that others might find interesting; things that I'm doing in my spare time, perhaps. Things that pass through my mind. And boy, am I spoiled for choice when it comes to that. Did I mention I usually have trouble starting to sleep at night because of the variety of thoughts and ideas crammed in there?

I sometimes wondered how much information the brain can take and store, whether it is limited (seems likely) and whether, like Sherlock Holmes, I should have limited my intake of knowledge of all kinds of subjects over the years. Well it looks like it's a little too late to go back now, so I'll just have to settle for turning myself into a jack-of-all-trades :-)