Off-white walls and meshed window panes, a view from the inside

"There's this boy in the family. A gift."

Oh, really? Gifted, is he? How so?

"They were expecting him to top the country in the JEE. He only got third, though. In the country."

"Bansal sir was so sure he'd top."

"At JEE, the top hundred ranks, atleast, are reserved for the gifted, if not for the next hundred too. And then, as you go down ranks, they're gifted too, just not as much."

Stupid teacher. She should stick to teaching. Fullstop. No philosophical discourses needed. Just teaching, thank you very much.

If there's anything I loathe, it's being told that I can't do something I want to. Especially when it's because of my limited mental ability. And that's just what she implied. That some people just aren't up to it.

"Before a problem was up on the board, he'd have the answer. And two alternative solution methods if he felt like it."

So I'm egoistic, conceited and stuck up. Deal.

I spoke to Mom today.

Yeah, rare occurrence, that.

"What's the use? However hard I work, I'm still going to be beaten by someone who doesn't even know the concept of hard work. I should leave. And hope that He'll throw me back in better equipped next time."

"But you're better than the best, it's just that you don't work!"

"But I've been working and I'm telling you, I'm nowhere. Low retention capacity, long and short term, below par reasoning ability and general /slowness/."

Moms should never do that. They shouldn't ever make their kids believe that they're /better than the best/. They shouldn't lie.

I'll be back.

What this man's all about.

Have your people call my people and let's do lunch?

When an introvert is intrigued by somebody else, he or she remains an enigma to the introvert until time immortal, if not for the action of an external influence.

Also, if a function's derivative is continuous at a point, the function is differentiable at that point.

I'm yet to find either in a book, so bah, thought I'd record them somewhere.

I need me.

Heigha.

It's a bit before midnight and I just got through the second chapter of Thomas and Finney. Nice book, that. But I have a slight problem. I need someone to talk to.

Not anyone though.

Someone who isn't studying math at a quarter to midnight only in want of getting into an IIT.

But someone who just fell in love with Calculus. Someone who just discovered how beautiful abstract math can get. Someone whose heart pumps twice as fast while listening to Alanis Morissette. Someone who appreciates her brilliant songwriting. Someone who spent three hours understanding normal forces, the shortest section in any Physics text and when he finally got it, tried explaining it to his Mom in his excitement. Someone who wasted quarter hour on this blog though he wields only four hours a day.

Someone who's just as much in need of the same kind of company.

Mortals need social interaction.

I'm only mortal, damnit.

I need to talk to another me.

I know I'll find another me.

I trust I'll find another me.