Barnes & Noble

When I first moved to Austin, one of the must-see places on my list was the Barnes & Noble in Arboretum. I've been a sucker for bookstores ever since I learned to read, and such a big one was a major attraction. When I saw it first, I knew immediately what part of Austin I wanted to live in forever and ever. So, two years later, when I graduated from grad school, and it came time for me to select a place to stay in which did not need to be within 1 mile of Taylor Hall, the Computer Sciences building in the University of Texas at Austin campus, I of course decided on Arboretum. Now I'd be close to my beloved bookstore.
I was slightly worried about the novelty wearing off -- that since I lived so close to Barnes & Noble now, I wouldn't want to visit it as much. I needn't have worried. I spend more of my waking hours there than I do in my own home, and the staff there knows me by sight. If anything, I think I go there a little too much. I know every crack in the wall, every spot on the carpet -- and pretty much the location of every genre of books. I think I could write an encyclopedia on the geography of Barnes & Noble Arboretum now. I can navigate the store blindfolded.
It's a wonderful store to go to. It resembles a library more than a bookstore. Tall stacks of books are neatly arranged all around the store, with people silently browsing through them. I know it's okay to talk on the phone, but I feel like a criminal, the library sense prevails so strongly. I don't have a specific favorite section, though I tend to mostly be in the manga section, or the mystery section.
When you enter, to the right is what I call the "oldies" section -- full of reference books, from the commonplace to the arcane, from the ordinary to the esoteric, from art to computer science to cooking and beyond. I love the travel section, and ever since I've booked tickets to visit Dunedin, New Zealand later this year, I've been regularly haunting the travel section. But my favorite section, by far, is the one on the left.
The left side of the store contains the entire fiction section -- my favorite. I don't really care what kind of fiction it is, I love to read it (except romance -- I hate romantic novels). It could be as gentle as Jane Austen, or as adrenaline-pumping as Matt Reilly, I read it all. My favorite genre is probably mystery, though, for I can resist anything but I can't resist a good whodunit. (That's followed closely by spy thrillers -- I love spy thrillers).
The literature section lies to the far left of the store, and is the section where most books are found. A few (like mystery or science fiction) are in their own specified section, which lies to the edge of the store, close to the window. Running at an angle to all these sections, and parallel to the window, is one of my favorite sections in the store -- Japanese manga. I can race through a manga in less an 30 minutes, even if I take time to savor the gorgeous drawings.
Upstairs is another reference section -- it is actually this section that contains the art books. I'd know, because for two years I stared at them with silent longing, but without the money to buy them. There are fantastic books on painting landscapes in watercolors, on developing your own manga characters, on layering shades in oil paintings to give them a "glow", on using various acrylic techniques.
To the right of this section is the DVD section, as I call it -- it contains an impressive array of CDs and DVDs. I haven't been there much, though, for I just watch all my movies online and not from a DVD.
On the lower level, right at the back of the store is the children's section. Bright and colorful, it contains a lot many books that I love to read even now -- every now and then I get tired of reading "adult" novels and revert to all that is magical and fantastical, and just a break from the grimness of "real" novels, and back into the wonderful world of children's fiction. I love children's books (maybe that's why the only book I've ever written was a children's book), and even though I feel faintly embarassed to be going into the children's section at the old age of 24, I do it anyway. Besides, most people seem to think I'm a teenager, so it's not too bad!
There's usually a lot of people at Barnes & Noble, but I like it best when there's no one around. Well -- that's not very common -- but even if the store is relatively empty, I love it. I love having an entire section to myself, feeling the soft soundtrack played in the store melt into my consciousness, and feeling like I'm the only one there. I like to curl up in a corner, picking up a volume of Trinity Blood or Black Cat and lose myself in the plot. Even better, I like it if I can lose myself in a new mystery novel, though there aren't too many left in the store that I haven't read, unfortunately. I'll always remember a day, last year, during the summer when it rained so much. It was raining hard outside, and the skies were dark and grey. There was hardly anybody in the store, and I felt myself losing myself in the feeling that I was the only person left in the world. It felt comforting, as I slipped into a comfortable slouch on the floor, curled up with a Dick Francis novel. I love Dick Francis novels, they combine mystery with British horseracing, and I could just feel myself immerse in the world of rich owners, cruel trainers and hapless jockeys. Meanwhile, it was getting darker and darker outside, and thunder growled in the distance. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of lightning, startling me, followed by a roar of thunder. Water lashed against the glass windows, and visibility outside was obliterated. It really felt like I was the only one in the world. I loved it.
Yes, indeed, no matter how many times I visit Barnes & Noble, it will remain my favorite bookstore. And for some reason, no other bookstore appeals to me quite as much, not even Borders which is at least as extensive -- or even another Barnes & Noble, such as the one I visited in Denver. No, this one has become my second home, and nothing can quite measure up to it. The staff knows me too, but now -- including the funny cashier who calls me "little troublemaker", but is always delighted to see me, his booming laughter echoing through the store. I love Barnes & Noble.

Year of Travel

2008 was certainly a significant year in my life. I've graduated from grad school, and started working -- this year marked what was possibly my last year as a student (though, with my penchant for studying I wouldn't rule out a return to academia). I also started working at Dell Inc as a software developer, a job that I've enjoyed so much since the day I started, it's sinful. I absolutely adore my teammates, and I love delving into the code and understanding how it works. And I actually get paid to do that -- life's just great!
After the obligatory bill-paying and buying all those things I lusted after when I was a poverty-stricken grad student and didn't have the money to buy them (one of those was, for some strange reason, a flimsy bookshelf at Barnes & Noble), I finally decided that I would indulge in another thing that I wanted to do forever -- travel.
After deciding that, my first destination was fixed -- New Zealand. I've wanted to go there since forever, I even wrote a book based in New Zealand! I had to see it. So I booked tickets to Dunedin, in South Island. I can't wait for that trip!
Next on that list was India, of course. In November is my parents' 25th wedding anniversary, and there's no way I could miss that! So after weeks of stalking travel websites for a decent ticket to India, I finally got the right one -- and I'm going to Bombay from Nov 15th to 29th.
And then, everyone was going away for Labor Day weekend, and I felt like an idiot for having no plans but to lie about the house reading books and surfing useless websites on the internet, so I've booked another getaway, to Denver. I'm going to Denver for the Labor Day weekend, and I'm sure it's gonna be fun! I love getaways too, where you don't know a soul in the other place -- you just roam there by yourself with no one to judge you or anything.
So by the end of this year, I would've been to: Anaheim, Los Angeles, San Antonio, Denver, Bombay and Dunedin. Not bad!! I aim to increase the length of that list next year, but let's see. I've always wondered what I'd do with so much money -- I'm a pretty frugal person, and I don't go on shopping binges at all, not even in Barnes & Noble, my favorite store. But now, I've found a way to spend that money and indulge in my passion -- traveling!
I bet 2009's gonna be an even more interesting year.....

Nostalgia

Yes, I know, it's been ages since I last wrote (blogged?). It's been a trifle hectic, what with my long-awaited graduation from grad school, and my parents and my sister paying me a visit here in Austin, and sheer laziness following that, I somehow never sat down to write. But a few days ago I discovered that the writing juices in me were intact, and so here I am.
Yes, I've graduated from the hallowed halls of the University of Texas at Austin. And it's still taking time to sink in. I haven't left UT cold turkey -- I enrolled for French classes over the summer, so I could keep myself busy, and also get smaller doses of UT, like a smoker winds down from a million cigarettes a day to maybe ten. The classes are only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, for 90 minutes, but I thought, hey! As long as I get to see UT, it'll be all right. Right?
Wrong. I hate UT the way it is now. It wasn't just UT that made it so precious to me -- it was my friends inhabiting it alongside me that made it what it was. I used to love sitting in TAY 5.142, technically Ruchica's office, but pretty much well-claimed by me. I think toward the end I spent more time there than she did. I used to love walking into the GRACS lounge, and checking my mail in the mailbox, and watching boys play foosball at the table, and people taking printouts, people checking mail, and people sleeping even through the din. I used to love sitting my myself in the reading room in TAY 5.110.
No more. I come now to GRACS lounge, and it looks like a ghost town. It's silent and deserted. the computer terminals are cool, the printers are in the sleep mode. The foosball table is still, with one ball lying forlornly on the table. I can almost see ghosts from the past -- people laughing, joking, playing, talking....and then the image is gone, and I'm all alone in the large room. I went to Ruchica's office today, and it seemed to be just a shell. I could almost see her and me, sitting opposite each other, watching videos on YouTube, or playing around on Facebook, and telling each other what we were doing. I could almost see the tension in the last few days as we both scrambled to complete our pending assignments, and get done with the Network Security project which we worked on together along with Vaibhav. And then I looked again, and there was nothing in the room, except for tables and chairs, and some loose papers lying around, and the chalkboard filled with Japanese, where I had practiced it after each class.
I don't like returning to these rooms when they are so empty. It feels desolate. I know it's just an illusion, and they'll be filled with life once the Fall semester starts again in August; but right now, it just feels like a ghost town, and I'm more than eager to leave. Right now, I'm sitting in the reading room, and only it feels the same, because I would often sit here alone. I've left this institution. I guess it's still taking time to sink in. And soon, there will be no trace of me having ever been here. For some reason, that disturbs me. I mean, what could I expect to do, right? But still, it hurts me that the next batch won't even have an idea that I was here. The last remaining sign of my presence is the Japanese written on the whiteboard in the reading room, and soon, at the start of the new term, that will be gone as well.
Maybe I should just say goodbye.

Tim Southee

I'm all excited about the newly-introduced New Zealand cricketer.
I've always been a fan of New Zealand Cricket. It probably started off with my fascination with the country, and escalated because my favorite cricketer, Shane Bond, was a Black Cap. So it's always been with keen interest that I've followed the fortunes of the New Zealand cricket team, or the Black Caps, as they're called. And it interested me when, in the third Test match between New Zealand and England, the name of Tim Southee was being thrown about.
Timothy Grant Southee is a player who's been in the pipeline for quite some time. I've been reading about him, first as an excellent schoolboy cricketer, and then as a very, very good player in the U-19 team of New Zealand. He played a massive part in NZ U-19's win against Ireland in the ICC U-19 Cricket World Cup in 2006 -- when he was just seventeen. He played again in the 2008 U-19 World Cup, and this time, was the Player of the Tournament, with an amazing 11 wickets, in spite of playing one match lesser than his closest contender for the title. I was all eager to see the young boy play.
When he was selected for the third Test, I doubt anyone thought initially he would be actually used -- with Kyle Mills present, there was very little chance of a 19-year-old rookie being offered the new ball. But Mills pulled out of the match, Southee was given the new ball, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Southee was excellent. I couldn't see every ball he bowled, but I managed to see a few overs in between -- and he bowls impeccably. He's not Shane Bond -- I doubt there will ever be another -- but Richard Hadlee? Yes, perhaps. He bowled with control, and swung the ball beautifully. His first wicket was a beauty -- four balls dished out to English captain Michael Vaughan, all outswingers. When Vaughan was expecting a fifth, Southee bowled a straight one, and trapped Vaughan leg before. Beautiful. His second over in Test cricket, and Southee had a wicket -- that of Michael Vaughan!
He went on to capture four more, two of them being Andrew Strauss and Kevin Pieterson, two of the most dangerous men in the English batting line-up. Wonderful, wonderful bowling. Kid, I thought to myself, consider me impressed. His final figures? 23.1-8.55-5.
He was out for 5 batting, and didn't get a wicket in the second innings, though he bowled quite well, in my opinion (not that I got to see a large part of the innings). But he was scintillating in the final innings of the match! He smashed 77 runs off 40 balls, which was studded with 9 sixes -- the most by any number 10 batsman. He hit his fifty off just 29 balls, the fastest ever by a New Zealander, and the sixth fastest ever. He was a revelation, in every sense of the word.
Tim Southee seems to be here to stay.

Harris Park Horror

To those who live near the North Campus area of UT, Harris Park needs no introduction. It's that green stretch of land between San Jacinto and Red River streets, that looks refreshing in the daylight and terrifying at night. Many a tale I've heard of murderers lurking in the undergrowth, waiting to slice through the throats of hapless passers-by. The leaves rustle at night, sounding downright creepy, more so than ever when you're returning home at 3am after a session of heavy-duty coding. Yes, Harris Park's an interesting place.
In the daylight, it's pretty innocuous. There are some swings and picnic tables there, and I've seen families there, having fun. It's usually inhabited in the mornings by joggers and people taking their dogs for walks. All-in-all, it looks like a very nice place in the morning. I've spent time with friends on those swings. Another reason I like the place is because it's a short-cut from my apartment to my department (hey, that rhymed!). Going down Dean Keeton takes a good ten minutes more than it would take to cut through Harris Park.
With this in mind, my friend Archana and I decided to take Harris Park when we were returning from a satisfying dinner at Thai Kitchen on 30th St. We looked at the park before entering it. It looked sinister, with large dark patches. There were a couple of lights shining bleakly, giving pale blobs of yellow light. Most of the park was shrouded in darkness. There was not a single soul there. A light wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. Archana and I looked at each other.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Archana.
"Sure," I said, exuding bravado, though I was quaking inside. It looked creepy, and it didn't help matters any that we'd been discussing ghost stories on the way, with Archana telling me how she thought her apartment was haunted, and how she and her roommate heard random sounds at night that had given them the creeps. All this raced through my mind as we entered the park.
We walked through the lighted patch, my breath quickening. I gave a nervous laugh. "You wouldn't want to have a go on the swings, would you?" I asked Archana.
"NO!" Archana returned firmly. She probably thought I was eccentric enough to do that!
"No, of course not," I said, and we moved on ahead, till we reached the end of the lighted area. Then we stopped.
The part ahead was darker than black (borrowing the phrase from a favorite anime series of mine!), and looked like something out of a horror movie. Large trees barred our way, and made funny noises (wind whistling through the branches, but my overactive imagination thought otherwise). Strange shadows flitted across the area. It agonized me that the apartment was just across the "twilight zone" as I dubbed it, but it was too much for my limited stock of courage to try to make my way across the area.
"Er....." I asked. "Are we making our way across that?"
"No," said Archana, firmly. "I don't think so."
"It's a short cut," I told her. Just then, something seemed to move in the shadows, and it seemed to move at superhuman speed. I jumped, and grabbed Archana's arm in a vice-like grip, probably making her jump as well.
"What was that all about?" she asked.
"S-something moved," I told her fearfully. We took another step into the darkness, with me literally quaking. My breath was coming fast now -- I was close to hyperventilating.
"That's it," said Archana. "We're not going through there." She led me back to the lighted area.
As soon as we came out into the light, I let out a huge breath, my heart fluttering. For some reason, that had shook me up a lot more than usual! We started walking back toward the entrance to the park, when a shadowy figure ran by us. I jumped violently again, and the state of our minds wasn't eased by the fact that it was a large-ish black dog that had passed us.
"Meh," I said, not sure what to do or say any more.
"Let's get out of there," said Archana.
"I agree," I said, and we practically ran out of there.
"That black dog reminds me of something," I told her.
"Yeah, me too," she said.
"Shall I tell you what it reminds me of?"
"No!" said Archana sharply. "Not here. Let's get out first."
We were practically running when we reached the entrance. It was then that I noticed the leash around the dog's neck. I almost stopped.
"Hey, it's someone's pet," I said, almost stopping.
Archana pulled me along. "Sure, whatever," she said, and with a few more steps, we were out on the road. We stopped to catch our breaths. It was then that we looked inside, and saw a man walk over to the dog and pick up the leash. We stared.
"So it was a pet!" I said, vindicated.
Archana laughed. "We were so terrified!" she said.
I laughed too, feeling much braver now out on the road. "Wanna do that again?" I asked, with a devilish gleam in my eye.
"No, thanks!" said Archana. "Let's walk back along Dean Keeton."
"Okay," I said. "By the way, what did that dog remind you of?"
"The black dog from Omen," said Archana. "What did it remind you of?"
"The hound of Baskervilles," I said. "The black dog of death."
We looked at each other for a minute, and then shivered. "Let's just get out of here," said Archana.
So we did just that, and walked back home. All the way we discussed the incident, almost laughing at our cowardice. But it sure was spooky when we walked through that park!