I’d never consider myself a loner, even for a bit. People who know me would agree…I see myself as generally social and approachable and friendly but I was reading Darwin’s latest post and was thinking yes, I hate it when people want to do everything together. I like and value my lone time, to be honest, I don’t mind being alone most of the time, provided people are a phone call or walking distance away. I call it being independent, doing my own thing…

Studying, shopping, walking to work/class…I quite enjoying doing these things on my own. It means I can do things at my own pace, make my own observations, rearrange my thoughts and sort out my decisions.Walking to a place like class becomes a pain when you are waiting for someone or when someone is kept waiting for you, either party eventually loses patience and honestly I don’t see what the big deal of walking for ten minutes in the morning with someone else, yes!! even if you are going to the same place!! why latch onto someone else?? I don’t understand…..

I dont mind travelling alone and going to new places alone, I mean it is nice to have company in long flights and people you know when you go to places you don’t know that well, like honestly, I’d have gone insane, if my friends from back home were not there in Australia last summer, but the thing is you adapt and you always make friends and in things like long flights, I fall asleep anyway…yes it gets boring when you are alone..but it’s not such a big deal and besides phones are necessary part of life these days and someone is always a phone call away..

The flatmate funnily enough is the exact opposite. She is one of those people who can’t go from the house to the shop down the road without someone, she wants people to walk into class with(thankfully we have only one class together and that class is always preceded by one that she doesn’t attend), people to do her tutorials with,people to do her washing with, people to listen to her plans for the day and how she plans on going around her job application process..etc etc etc…the list goes on..I usually don’t mind, but sometimes when I’m dragged to places when I really don’t have energy to go there or listen to how many tutes one does, it does tend to get annoying…

I also hate studying together, no seriously…I’m one of those people who hate group studying because a)nothing gets done b) I’m not given anytime to understand things for myself…in my opinion group studying is an honest waste of time..

Company, I guess is relative factor…I love talking to people and when i lived in an apartment by myself for 10 weeks over the summer, I used to hate coming home to an empty house where i had no one to talk to because i love people and i’m generally social, but then again i also appreciate lone time, time when i could do my own thing in my own way and didn’t have someone else to consider in the equation.

So, the rest of the household is asleep and I cant do anything much like turn on the music or switch on the tv or even walk fast because the damn floorboards creak…so I’m here, on msn, checking facebook, replying msgs, basically not knowing what to do until the flatmate wakes up or until my friend calls when I remember that i promised a certain person who likes margaritas at midnight, that I would blog over the weekend….

Hmm….I’ve come to realise that when you are in the latter years of university, reading week actually does mean reading week… gone are the blissful days of reading weeks which meant midterm break.Already planning to run around half the country and see much ‘need to see’ people really doesn’t help the cause and transporting the academia from place to place, I have a feeling will also be a futile cause, so the plan is to finish as much as possible before actually taking off….but doing a dissertation and having to meet the darn supervisor plus sort out a presentation(which does not count for anything!!!!) for soon after i return plus try and understand all this other crap that i need to know, really doesn’t help the cause…sigh…

The flatmate is having a friend this weekend and I’m being spared..which is good because I have work to do and it also gives me time to see my friend who is in town as well.. Anyway yesterday, the flatmate and the friend goes out for the evening and she returns a little before 1 without the friend. Upon inquiry, she smiles and goes ‘oh you’ll never guess what happened?!’ which gives me more than enough information.The guilt starts springing upon her,’maybe I should have dragged her home?!’, ‘maybe i should have stopped her..’,'I know him-ish, but they drove away to god knows where..’ well apparently she was drunk but sober enough to know what was going on and she had wanted to get lucky so what was she supposed to do..**shrugs** ..Today morning she tells me he was the guy who served her at Bella Italia and didn’t charge her for the wine and that he drives a fancy car.Well, car and drinks…i guess it’s justifiable…:s

Getting with and going out actually seems like the thing of the season actually.. I know three couples who are going out or getting with it maybe the more appropriate word to be honest, well in one case, the guy had lit ‘will you go out with me?’ in tealight candles on his carpet..I have no idea what on earth he is going to do when it comes to proposing to the poor girl, he tells me that he’s got style, i just refrained myself from telling him how scary he is…

The ‘what to do after I graduate’ plan is going everywhere..I was debating whether to put nowhere or everywhere, but chose on the latter. An year out to work before the phd, in the field I want to get into looks like an year out to do another masters, before the phd and I still don’t how I feel about that…then there is the question of finding a research masters and not a taught one, because i’m already on a taught one, the question of where, affordability, finding funding…BLAH!!! ok lets postpone this to February…

As mentioned in the earlier post, my life in the past one year took an eventful turn.Things, both good and bad just kept happening to me, it felt like I just couldn’t avoid the drama..I was, as Vindi put it a drama magnet. Amongst some of the better things that happened in the last 15 months was that I got to travel quite a bit more than usual and amongst them, I visited both Austria and Australia in a space of 7 months…

Austria will come in a separate post, because the trip did take place in January, a lot was going at the time and I need to sort out my memories and get my facts and figures straightened before I post about it, but Australia was less than 2 months ago and my memories are rather fresh and trouble free..

My reason for visiting the land down under was (fortunately or unfortunately) an internship. It was that period of time that I had to apply for internships, thought to hell with Britain,lets go somewhere I haven’t been before, applied to CSPA and was offered an internship. The mother said, ‘what? you are running from one random part of the world to the other??’, the father said,’just go for it’. So off I ran off to Aus on the 14th of June to look into new horizons and to start a research internship on helioseismology and solar observations (more on that later).

Now, I have always been one of those who have been a tad biit weary of Australia.I had a serious prejudice against it. When I was applying to university, Australia was the one place I did not want to go,i didn’t have much respect for the place for some in comprehensive, irrational reason and I didn’t care much about the hoards of sri lankans who kept on migrating there..What I didn’t know however was that the place had it’s charm, it had it’s way of growing into you and clinging onto even though you try really hard to shake it off, what I didn’t know was that it was a developed yet relaxed country where the pace of life was just right,at least in most cases..it is a country that is a leader in research and you do, yes you do get to know other people, other than Sri Lankans, in Melbourne..despite the fact that everyone ranging from the boss’s neighbour to the woman at the post office to the guy at the gas station is Sri Lankan.

Don’t get me wrong here, Australia does have it’s faults. A terrible public transport system for one. If you are going to Australia, esp Melbourne, in the long term..get a car…seriously! There is one bus, every hour after 6 pm and trains are random and expensive and the stations are set rather far apart in a fashion that walking to one, like the way you walk to the tube stations in london isn’t really possible unless you like walking for like an hour, which I really don’t mind in a sunny day, but yeah, moving on…the closest supermarket is also like an half hour walk…so yeah you get the picture…

It also still has a few issues with multi culturalism, a serious problem with indigenous australians and serious political incorrectness, but then again it still was a great experience and it is indeed a good place to live in…I still don’t see myself going there long term, but I’d definitely go there again

ps: I know the posts are random, I’m still finding my footing here…

more to come soon………..

Due to numerous demands and nagglings from T,(she does have this annoying way of bringing it up everytime you talk to her you know, which is quite often) I have decided to open this up, clear away the dust and try scribble something here again.. It’s been almost an year since I last wrote and a lot has happened since then and ideals and perceptions have changed. Anyway I digress….

Final year has finally dawned and very soon I would be done and dusted and gone..my lack of passion in causes that I’d have otherwise been passionate in, sometimes manages to amaze my own self.Maybe I have finally become a dispassionate mathematician..I don’t know..maybe i have just grown to be indifferent or maybe i HAVE matured and learnt to accept the ways of the world.

I digress again……..I think somewhere along this very confused ramble RD deserves a very special thank you…when i logged 30 minutes ago, a majority of the incoming links were from RD, amongst them were dedicated posts…Thanks RD, you are a very flattering fan

Over the post almost three months I have been constantly asked as to why I haven’t bothered to update the blog. The many comments left here and the post that was written by Mr. R(thank you, yet again, I have never been more flattered!!!) were very flattering and rather encouraging and I do admit that there have been a couple of attempts to write a decent enough post within this period.But somewhere in the middle, I would lose the flow,forget the words and the draft would just sound too mundane and tedious to my own self.

So, the answer whenever someone asked as to why I don’t blog much anymore was something along the lines of “I dont know men, I guess I just don’t know what to say anymore, I don’t have the time or the peace of mind to blog….”, which is rather ironic because that statement defies the whole reason as to why I started hotchocolate in the first place.(Many of my posts are written when my mind is not at peace.)One of the main reasons I got inot blogging a little under a one and a half years ago was because I needed a non human outlet to vent at all the idiosyncrasies of the world that I lived in,I had a need to tell the world about I saw and what I thought about things(immature as they may seem in retrospect) and lastly blogging gave me an opputunity to revive my quickly-dying ability to write well.

Maybe now the charm of it is wearing off, or maybe I just cant be bothered, maybe my mind is so full of numbers and formulae that the words don’t string anymore,maybe I just prefer to read rather than write, maybe I have become just immune to everything that is happening around me that I have just begun to accept them and ceased to have an opinion about them. Maybe I have become too self centered to believe that my opinion needs to be heard and that it mattered that it was heard. Maybe I dont want my memories recorded,maybe when I do start writing about them, I cant stop and I dont know what to write and what to write.

I dont know right now, but I do want the blog revived.

Thanks to all who missed me

I completed my internship at Colombo University today and I’m actually rather missing it now.Strange, coz I’m quite a firm believer that internships were invented to ruin one’s precious summer holidays. I went there as a research intern, did that for a while, got familiar with a few software packages and discovered that they dont exactly research the fields I want to, and that my knowledge in certain areas was a bit inadequate for me to make a significant contribution to the research that they were doing.

About three weeks later, the head of department asked me if I wanted to contribute to the academic side of things as in, write question papers, modify the syllabus etc. So there I was, plonked with the 1st year math for IT syllabus for the BIT degree and other material and told to “write egs., write notes, make the slides more student friendly and write exam questions, so you can contribute to the question database…” Initially setting about it was rather awkward, for the only time I had dabbled with syllabuses and past papers and the like had been when I was at the recieving end, as a student.

Once I did get into the rhythm of it, I was surprised at myself to find out how much I actually enjoyed it, how it came quite naturally to me. As much as I complained about it looming over my head everyday for the past two months, deep down inside I was kinda having fun.The fact that my work would be appreciated and that it would be ‘eventually’ put into use was, I think, a big contributing factor into the equation and since I was messing around with maths in a more straightforward sense, unlike in my previous work experiences, I actually understood what on earth I was doing.Writing test papers, too I must admit was a flattering task, especially since I’m still a student, myself.Education is something I sincerely enjoy, I really enjoyed my school life and I love university and I know that however much I deny it, I dont exactly mind studying either,I have also come to realise that I love advising people on universities, the subjects they should study and the importance of studying in general; so the field of education,to me in general is, a comfortable one.

Having realised that the fancy corporate/commercial sector is not my thing, I have more or less set my sights on research sciences, so I can remain in and research, what I loved learning about, but after this stint, I’m wondering that maybe I should become an educationist-cum-research scientist, not necessarily in the capacity of a teacher or professor, but in terms of things like syllabus reforms, question papers etc etc, so I can remain in the field that I enjoy whilst actually encouraging people to broaden their perspectives and knowledge.

Working in Colombo uni, too is an experience by itself.Quite a different atmosphere to what I experience(d) as university back in St-Andrews, it, was quite a ‘culture shock’ to me during the first week. Later on though, when I got used to the stares and when the people I worked with got more friendly, it became quite a laugh.I never actually realised the magnitude of the place until I started working there. It is just huge.and pretty too, if only they bothered to maintain it properly. It is such a shame that such a beautiful place is soo poorly presented because simple maintainance procedures such as mowing the lawns and colour washing the buildings are not done regularly.Even though it does lack the resources to push on with sufficient research that need to be done, as one of the foremost universities in the country, it is very academically strong and even though, I will probably never want to make a career in the place, if ever I do take a gap year(which I’m seriously considering) between completing St-Andrews and starting a postgrad or if I ever take a serious break in my career later, teaching in Colombo uni is something I will very seriously consider taking up.

I sit here and try hard to continue my work assignment, but the memories keep coming and all of a sudden I’m caught in the nostalgia. I give up the assignment and begin to type.

I’m not sad, at least not in the literal sense, but as I sit and type, I’m just numb by the fact I that I’ve never even considered him or his death. Isn’t it weird that we never considered the people who play a big role behind the curtain? The people, if not for whom, a lot of things we did, wouldn’t have been possible.

I was 10 when I first met David and 17 or 18 when he left our employment last year. Our previous driver had been a crook and everyone was relieved to get David. He was from the old school; principled, neat, respectable and he was the former chauffeur of my parents’ previous boss. He was safe, trustworthy and known.

Over those 7-8 years, through my colorful adolescence, he drove me through three different schools, a countless number of music lessons, swimming lessons and tuition classes. He chose to keep shut when I fought with my mum in the back seat or cried after my OL maths paper, he chose to ignore when a pack of us, girls would get into the car and chat incessantly and he chose to not tell when I went shopping for my, then high school love, after school.He knew everywhere I went. Every house of my friends, be it old or new. He every shop I went to, every place I went to. He just drove. Wherever we told him to.

I’m now numb with the realization that he knew so much, but never told. Not because I ever told him to, but out of respect. That was his way, he needn’t be told.

He retired, sometime last year, finally giving in to my father’s rants about how he is not fit anymore for driving,yet then, he stayed until I finished my holidays.

He drove me for the last time on my 19th birthday last year. He was no more an employee, but had just happened to visit on that day and felt bad that I was sulking due to the absence of our current driver.I met him, less than a month ago when he visited us with rambutan and the his customary ‘halapa’. He went into cardiac arrest whilst we were on holiday in Thailand, around two weeks ago and my father told me of his death, on Saturday, I knew. I had expected it.

Visiting his home on Monday evening, I’m shocked by the distance he travelled everyday and am silently ashamed when I remember how annoyed I used to be when he would get half an hour late.

So here I am, trying to pay homage to a man, if not for whom my adolescence would have been very different, with a few disjointed sentences and a countless number of memories. To a man, I never thought would be dead, I have no regrets,but as the memories start flooding in and my thoughts go into a whirlpool, in this solitude, my eyes start to mist , as I grip the fact the never will I see him ever again .

I always get teased about my rather uncommon career choices. I find the shock on their faces rather amusing and I find the stereotyping , fascinating and then they ask me how it all started and ten seconds later they tell me how I don’t look the type and a second later, they manage to add the “no no, I mean its really great, you must be really smart hey..;) but WHY?! “. I’ve heard these lines, a couple of hundred times in the past 3-4 years. I’m used to them but they’ve never failed to amuse me.

I study mathematics. Yes, straight maths, not combined with any other subjects, no minors, no joint degrees, just maths the way it is. I intend to pursue research in a closely math related field. I’m not smart, neither am I a nerd. I hardly study and I’m usually always ‘free’ to do something fun.[ I, however do believe that I have a couple of very eccentric habits. Ranging from my very nocturnal studying habits, (some of the greatest inspirational moments in my life had been at very random times of the night, in fact its actually 2:45am right now!) to talking to myself out loud at any given moment. I’m full of rather strange little characteristics.]

When I’m usually asked as to why I ended up with maths, I say that I was always good at it, I hated ‘studying and essay writing subjects’ towards the latter part of my school career, engineering sounded too regimented and I ended up choosing maths due to the flexibility of careers and the respect that the subject offered. But in a profound moment, I realise that, in retrospect, I cannot imagine doing anything else. I realise that I’m spending my life learning something completely artificial. Something unbelievably abstract. Something that I’ll never be able to touch and see. Something that tries to be perfect in an imperfect world. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with a subject which started as a fragment of someone’s imagination.

But then I try to imagine what the world would be like without mathematics, what the world would be like, if we did not know how to count. I think about all the other subjects that maths had inspired; physics, chemistry, economics, computing, technology, accounting,countless fields of research… and realise how blessed and privileged I am, to be a part of this awe-inspiring field. I’m suddenly filled with great inspiration and joy knowing that very few things could be as innovative and imaginative as mathematics. I smile with sadistic pleasure. I don’t care what you say. Mathematicians are not socially inept creatures, who do not have a life, they are some of the most creative and persevering people that the world has ever produced.

I cant stop sneezing,but I dont have a cold. I should have a shower and go to bed;my mind is exhausted. I think too much,too often. Right now, my head is such an incoherant cacophony that I cant be bothered going to bed. I need to talk but I’m too tired to speak.

For the couple of weeks that I have been here this summer, sadly and strangely, I have seen,heard, discussed,thought and read about death, much more than I would like to. I’ve always been told that death is a big part of life and I’ve been to a fair amount of funerals in my life, be it young or old, known or not so known…everytime I see death,whether it is sight of seeing the agony of an otherwise eternally jovial friend, at the loss of a parent or whether a tiny ant float off,when I’m too slow to turn off the shower on time…I then contemplate death.

I’m not that emotional and I’m hardly ever visibly emotional in public, I just feel alot. I come home and think of all the people who cried and screamed so unbearably,I try to think of all the things thats going through their minds, I wonder if there is any truth in those mass email fwds, that tell us to resolve arguments and ‘tell your loved ones that you do’, I wonder if their inner conflict was resolved, I wonder if they regret, I call a long lost friend on my contact list and speak with them for an hour on student rebellion and other randomness,I want to slap the fools who ask me if I’d cry when they die and I try to imagine what it would be like on the day I lose a family member, a best friend, a loved one, a friend..I try to imagine what it would be like for them to not be there,to laugh with,to gossip with, to talk wit, to just share life with.I wonder if life does go on…

And whether the pain I see around me does go away…….

I had my last exam today.Statistics;dont ask!Its quite early to finish since the rest of the uni finishes in about 10 days and I will be around for about another two weeks.Finishing exmas today, signified the unofficial end of 2nd year and suddenly I’m caught up in the shock and nostalgia of another year coming to an end.

Trying to pack up my stuff for storage, it seemed like only yesterday that I actually unpacked them all and decorated my room.This year was a year,filled with a lot of smiles, laughter and triumph, but it was also an insightful and challenging year both academically and non academically. As much as I’m tired and I want to go home properly, the thought of leaving just suddenly feels strange, not seeing or having proper contact(I dont honestly know what happens to people during summer)with people who have become both my friends and family, the graduation of a handful of very close friends, the thought that they wont be here next year is honestly, surreal and the thought that I have finished half of my university career myself, and that I better think of what lies ahead is even scarier.

Anyway, stats was a bitch, I’m tired and my room is sea of maths papers that I cant figure out…the tiding doesnt seem to end :s