I run a small fashion shop, Figura, where I design, sew and sell women’s clothes. It’s my way of balancing the concept design with a more hands-on kind of job. My favorite part is definitely the patterning. I do it on paper in a very old-school way. Patterning seems to be one of the most “stable” technologies ever – I can literally sew a dress by 19th century’s pattern and it will work just fine, while my partner complains about JavaScript framework changes weekly.

I was reading the Uses This interview of Elena Zaharova when I came across this paragraph. It reminded of a pet project I would like to do one day (but probably will never get around to): designing and building a networked computer system to run and be usable (which includes being programmable) for 100 years, with minimal maintenance.


Rutger Hauer Rewrote His Iconic ‘Blade Runner’ Monologue, Added ‘Tears in Rain’ Himself

I watch a lot of movies (and television), probably more than I should. One of my favorite pieces of movie on-screen monologue is replicant Roy Batty’s monologue in Blade Runner. Other favorites include Hattori Hanzo’s monologue in Kill Bill, and some of V’s monologues from V for Vendetta. Yesterday, actor Rutger Hauer, who plays Batty, passed away. I learned that he actually wrote most of his excellent monologue himself, including the devastating last line:

“I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Time to die.”

Rest in peace.


Long time, no post. I’ve been mostly busy with the various details of day-to-day life. In the meantime, I have somehow managed to turn 31. The one good thing about aging is that it happens without any effort on one’s part. Most years, I like to celebrate my birthday with friends, and if I’m near them, family. This year, I decided to take a page out of Matt Mullenweg’s book and write a few words about the previous year and what I’m looking forward to in the year ahead.

The last year has been full of a lot of changes for me. I moved to a new city (Boston), started some new lines of work, brought others to comfortable milestones, enjoyed the benefits of having a comfortable income. I indulged in some lifestyle inflation by using said income to pay for comfortable living and commuting conditions, while trying to stay wary of conspicuous consumption (with limited success). Though life as an Indian expatriate living in the US can be tenuous sometimes, I think I better appreciate the immense amount of privilege, benefits and advantages of sheer luck that I have over many people in the world.

I tried (mostly unsuccessfully) to build a new network of friends and acquaintances, and in the process got to know myself much better than I have in a long time. I (re-)learned to appreciate having time and space to myself (albeit slowly and grudgingly). Learning to actually put this time and space to good use remains a challenge for the future. But it is worth remembering that not all things need to have a use, not all time and space and energy need to be invested in production.

After a minor health scare, I’ve been better about diet and exercise, especially in the last few months. I started studying and practicing Buddhism more seriously, especially the Zen branch, and have been building a regular meditation practice with the help of the Calm meditation app and the Cambridge Zen Center. Alongside a return to therapy, and a consideration of my information consumption habits, this year is the largest and most consistent investment in my own mental and physical health that I have ever made. The return on this investment has been both wonderful and terrifying. On one hand, it is really good to feel comfortable in my own skin, to like what I see in the mirror, to feel my body getting stronger and feeling more confident that my body can do what I ask of it. It also good to know first hand that my physical self is at least malleable, if not fluid. On the other hand, it is terrifying to know that both Descarte and Yoda were wrong. Our minds are not separate from our bodies, in fact they are deeply and tightly connected and small variations in one greatly affect the other. We are not luminous beings, we are only crude matter, and if we are to have any hope of liberation or salvation, it lies in the direction of accepting and embracing this fact. I do not know what this means on a large scale, but personally it means I now exercise most days, and try to have breakfast every morning.

As for the rest of the world, or at least my thoughts about it, I stumbled on a newsletter by musician Nick Cave some days ago. This excerpt from a recent post sums up all I have learned and understood in the past year:

Is this world cruel? I don’t think so. I think this world is indifferent and indifference is not cruelty. What connects me to you, and you to every other sentient being in the universe, is that the universe, simply does not care about us; it does not act with malice or desire to harm us – it is simply unaffected by our condition. If one acknowledges this state of affairs, then it sets up a situation that allows us to make a simple choice – either we respond to the indifference of the universe with self-pity and narcissism – as if the world has in some way personally betrayed us – and live our lives in a cynical, pessimistic and self-serving manner; or we stand tall, set our eyes clearly upon this unfeeling universe and love it all the same – even though, or especially because, it doesn’t love us. This act of cosmic defiance, of subversive optimism, of unconditional and insubordinate love, is the greatest act of human beauty we can perform. To stand before this great, blank, heartless cosmic event and say: ‘We believe in you’. ‘We love you’. ‘We care for you’. This is the definition of grace, and this is the epiphany you speak of. We create our own divinity, our own Godliness, through our ferocious need. We yearn the heavens awake, and if we are quiet, in prayer or in meditation, sometimes we can feel the heavens stirring, breathing our fragile and reckless love back through us.

It is very tempting to want to see the world as we want it to be, or as it should or could be. Seeing the world as it could be is perhaps the definition of hope. But to make that more than just a dream, we must first see the world as it actually is, no matter how terrible or disappointing or depressing that might be. The same goes for the people in it. That is a fine line to walk, and if there is anything I want for the year ahead, it is to get better at walking that line.


Spring has Sprung

Walking through Harvard Square yesterday I took a moment to admire the fresh blossoms. The weather has been cloudy and dreary for what feels like forever, but in reality is less than a week. Meanwhile, the temperature has been slowly rising, the need for layers of clothing falling, and the grass is getting greener. Maybe the sun will come back soon as well.

White blossoms near Harvard Square
Spring has sprung

One of the lifestyle changes I’ve been wanting to make in 2019 is to reduce my consumption and to live in a way that is more considered and careful. I’ve already written about how I’m doing that when it comes to information and media consumption. In more material ways I’m trying to do things like take more public transport, eat out less, and reduce the amount of food and non-recyclable waste that I produce. I’m also trying to reduce the computational resources I use, and by extension the energy, human and natural resources used.

I’ve been a happy Linode user for several years now. I started using what was then their lowest tier at $20 a month to host some of my websites and small web applications. Over the years, I’ve been paying the same amount per month but been getting upgraded to more powerful virtual servers, until I got up to their Linode 4GB Standard tier: 4GB of RAM, 2 CPU cores, 80 GB of SSD storage and 4TB of network transfer. If that sounds like overkill for serving a few small websites, you’re probably right.

Linode is starting to migrate users from a monthly billing plan to an hourly billing plan. In the process of reading about the plan differences (spoiler: not much for small users like myself), I decided to re-evaluate how much computation I actually needed and used. The above mentioned specs were far more than what I needed, or could see myself needing in the near future. So I downgraded to the current lowest Linode configuration, the Nanode: just 1GB of RAM, 1 CPU core, 25 GB of SSD storage and 1TB of network transfer. That should be more than enough for my needs, and will cost me just $5 a month.

I could probably go even lower and do most of my hosting out of GitHub Pages, or an Amazon S3 bucket, but I find it useful to have an actual virtual server to run arbitrary programs on if I need to. I am planning on making some more changes to my computing usage in the near future. Currently the VPS runs Arch Linux with a fairly large list of userspace tools (including a full OCaml compilation stack). The lower specs will probably make compiling things on this VPS annoyingly slow, so in the future I’ll be compiling on my local Linux machine and just moving binaries over. I will also be switching over to using Alpine Linux to run an even lighter system. Also, this blog currently runs on WordPress.com. That has worked out pretty well, but for a number of reasons I think it’s time to part ways. I’ll go into those reasons in depth in a future post, and I will be moving the blog over to said Linode VPS over the next few weeks.

Now, I’m fully aware that this doesn’t make a huge impact on anything in the grand scheme of things. And yes, part of doing this a reason to just geek out on UNIX sysadmin-y things that I don’t do much these days. But still, I do believe that if a few minor changes can make a positive effect on the world (no matter how small), then it is worth investing the time and energy to make those changes.