Archivo de la etiqueta: comunicación


Antes de salir de la India a finales de los años ochenta, Podría hablar un poco de hindi como mi tercer idioma. Inglés es el segundo idioma, y Malayalam mi lengua materna. Yo no era fluido en Hindi por cualquier tramo de la imaginación, pero pude hablar lo suficientemente bien como para deshacerse de un vendedor puerta a puerta, por ejemplo.

Esto es exactamente lo que mi padre (un hindi-phobe confirmado) me pidió que hacer durante una de mis visitas a casa cuando un persistente, De habla hindi vendedor sari se movía sobre nuestro porche delantero. Por ese tiempo, Había pasado más de seis años en los EE.UU. (y considerado mi Inglés muy bueno) y un par de años en Francia (suficiente para saber que “muy bueno Inglés” no era gran cosa). Así que para deshacerse de la sari-wala, Empecé a hablar con él en Hindi, y lo más extraño sucedió — todo era Francés que estaba saliendo. No es mi lengua materna, no es mi segunda o tercera lengua, pero el francés! En breve, había muy confundido vendedor sari vagando por las calles ese día.

Verdadero, hay cierta similitud entre el hindi y el francés, por ejemplo, en los sonidos de las palabras interrogativas, y los tontos géneros masculino-femenino de objetos neutros. Pero no creo que eso era lo que estaba causando el derramamiento de lo francés. Se sentía como si francesa había reemplazado Hindi en mi cerebro. Sea cual sea las células cerebrales de los míos que fueron cableados para hablar Hindi (mal, Debo añadir) estaban siendo reconectados a la franciaise! Algunos extraño mecanismo de asignación de recursos fue el reciclaje mis células cerebrales sin mi conocimiento ni consentimiento. Creo que esta invasión francesa en mi cerebro continuó sin cesar y asimilé un trozo de mis células inglés, así. El resultado final fue que mi Inglés consiguió todo en mal estado, y mi francés no llegó lo suficientemente bueno. Me siento un poco de pena por mis neuronas confusas. Karma, Supongo — No debería haber confundido el vendedor sari.

Aunque se habla en broma, Creo que lo que he dicho es verdad — las lenguas que usted habla ocupan distintas secciones de su cerebro. Un amigo mío es una niña franco-americano de los años de posgrado. Ella no tiene acento discernible en su Americanese. Una vez que ella me visitó en Francia, y me di cuenta de que cada vez que se utiliza una palabra en Inglés, mientras habla francesa, ella tenía un acento francés distinta. Era como si las palabras en inglés salieron de la sección francesa de su cerebro.

Por supuesto, lenguas pueden ser una herramienta en manos de la creatividad. Mi compañero de oficina en Francia era un tipo inteligente Inglés que firmemente se negó a aprender nada de francés en absoluto, y resistió activamente cualquier signo de asimilación francesa. Él nunca pronunció una palabra francesa que si podía evitarlo. Pero a continuación,, un verano, dos internos en inglés aparecieron. Se le preguntó a mi compañero de oficina que los guíe,. Cuando estas dos chicas vinieron a nuestra oficina para reunirse con él, este chico de repente se volvió bilingüe y empezó a decir algo así como, “Lo que hacemos aquí.. ¡Ay, triste, Me olvidé de que usted no habla francés!”

La historia hasta ahora …

In the early sixties, Santa Kumari Amma decided to move to the High Ranges. She had recently started working with KSEB which was building a hydro-electric project there.The place was generically called the High Ranges, even though the ranges weren’t all that high. People told her that the rough and tough High Ranges were no place for a country girl like her, but she wanted to go anyways, prompted mainly by the fact that there was some project allowance involved and she could use any little bit that came her way. Her family was quite poor. She came from a small village called Murani (near a larger village called Mallappalli.)

Around the same time B. Thulasidas (better known as Appu) also came to the High Ranges. His familty wasn’t all that poor and he didn’t really need the extra money. But he thought, hey rowdy place anyway, what the heck? Bueno, to make a long story short, they fell in love and decided to get married. This was some time in September 1962. A year later Sandya was born in Nov 63. And a little over another year and I came to be! (This whole stroy, a propósito, is taking place in the state of Kerala en India. Bueno, that sentence was added just to put the links there, just in case you are interested.) There is a gorgeous hill resort called Munnar (meaning three rivers) where my parents were employed at that time and that’s where I was born.

 [casual picture] Just before 1970, they (and me, which makes it we I guess) moved to Trivandrum, the capital city of Kerala. I lived in Trivandrum till I was 17. Lots of things happened in those years, but since this post is still (and always will be) work in progress, I can’t tell you all about it now.

En 1983, I moved to Madras, to do my BTech in Electronics and Communication at IIT, Madras. (They call the IITs the MIT of India, only much harder to get in. In my batch, there were about 75,000 students competing for about 2000 places. I was ranked 63 among them. I’m quite smart academically, you see.) And as you can imagine, lots of things happened in those four years as well. But despite all that, I graduated in August 1987 and got my BTech degree.

En 1987, after finishing my BTech, I did what most IITians are supposed to do. I moved to the states. Upstate New York was my destination. I joined the Physics Department de Universidad de Syracuse to do my PhD in High Energy Physics. And boy, did a lot of things happen during those 6 años! Half of those 6 years were spent at Cornell University in Ithaca.

That was in Aug. 1987. Then in 1993 Siete, the prestigious French national research organization ( CNRS – “Centre national de la recherche scientifique”) hired me. I moved to Francia to continue my research work at ALEPH, CERN. My destination in France was the provencal city of Marsella. My home institute wasCentre de Physique des Particules de Marseille” o CPPM. Por supuesto, I didn’t speak a word of French, but that didn’t bother me much. (Before going to the US in 1987, I didn’t speak much English/Americanese either.)

End of 1995, on the 29th of Dec, I got married to Kavita. In early 1996, Kavita also moved to France. Kavita wasn’t too happy in France because she felt she could do much more in Singapore. She was right. Kavita is now an accomplished entrepreneur with two boutiques in Singapore and more business ideas than is good for her. She has won many awards and is a minor celebrity with the Singapore media. [Wedding picture]

En 1998, I got a good offer from what is now the Instituto para la Investigación Infocomm and we decided to move to Singapore. Among the various personal reasons for the move, I should mention that the smell of racisim in the Marseilles air was one. Although every individual I personally met in France was great, I always had a nagging feeling that every one I did not meet wanted me out of there. This feeling was further confirmed by the immigration clerks at the Marignane airport constantly asking me toMettez-vous a cote, caballero” and occassionally murmuringles francais d’abord. [Anita Smiles]

A week after I moved to Singapore, on the 24rth of July 1998, Anita was born. Incredibly cute and happy, Anita rearranged our priorities and put things in perspective. Five years later, on the 2nd of May 2003, Neil was born. He proved to be even more full of smiles.  [Neil Smiles more!]

En Singapur, I worked on a lot of various body-based measurements generating several patents and papers. Towards the end of my career with A-Star, I worked on brain signals, worrying about how to make sense of them and make them talk directly to a computer. This research direction influenced my thinking tremendously, though not in a way my employer would’ve liked. I started thinking about the role of perception in our world view and, consequently, in the theories of physics. I also realized how these ideas were not isolated musings, but were atriculated in various schools of philosophy. This line of thinking eventually ended up in my book, El universo Unreal.

Towards the second half of 2005, I decided to chuck research and get into quantitative finance, which is an ideal domain for a cash-strapped physicist. It turned out that I had some skills and aptitudes that were mutually lucrative to my employers and myself. My first job was as the head of the quantitative analyst team at OCBC, a regional bank in Singapore. Este trabajo de la oficina central, que implica la gestión de riesgos y reduciendo los comerciantes exuberantes, gave me a thorough overview of pricing models and, perhaps more importantly, perfecta comprensión de la aplicación conflicto impulsado por el apetito de riesgo del banco.

 [Dad] Más tarde, en 2007, I moved to Standard Chartered Bank, as a senior quantitative professional taking care of their in-house trading platform, which further enhanced my "big picture" outlook and inspired me to write Principios del Desarrollo Cuantitativo. I am rather well recognized in my field, and as a regular columnist for the Wilmott Revista, I have published several articles on a variety of topics related to quants and quantitative finance, which is probably why John Wiley & Sons Ltd. asked me to write this book.

Despite these professional successes, on the personal front, 2008 has been a year of sadness. I lost my father on the 22nd of October. La death of a parent is a rude wake-up call. It brings about feelings of loss and pain that are hard to understand, and impossible to communicate. And for those of us with little gift of easy self-expression, they linger for longer than they perhaps should.