Processors and the speed of light

What does the speed of light have to do with processor speed? Quite a bit, so it turns out!

Speed of light = 299792458 meters per second, or 29979245800 centimeters per second (100 cm in a meter)

A nanosecond is 1 billionth of a second = 1/1000000000

The distance traveled by light in a nanosecond = 29979245800 * 1/1000000000 = 29.9792458 cm (~ 30 cm)


A 2.7 Ghz processor (one of the latest processors) can do 2.7 billion cycles per second, so each cycle (or step) takes 1/2.7 * 1000000000 or 1/2.7 nanoseconds.

The distance traveled by light in this time is 29.9792458 (cms/nanosecond) * 1/2.7 (nanoseconds) = 11.103424370370369 cms

This is about 3/4th of the length of a dollar bill. In the time that light travels 11.1 cms, a computer has to finish one cycle or step. This demonstrates the power of modern day processors. This is part of the reason that a process has to be so small - if it were bigger than 11.1 cms, we couldn't even send light across the processor length in the time for one cycle. This is why miniaturization has played a crucial role in the development of technology.


Food for thought, eh?!


* Learned this from udacity.com, in one of the course lectures! Check out udacity.com, an endeavor to get free quality education available to the masses.

Favorite quotes

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
— Mark Twain

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Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero

Don't ask (it's forbidden to know) what final fate the gods have
given to me and you, Leuconoe, and don't consult Babylonian
horoscopes. How much better it is to accept whatever shall be,
whether Jupiter has given many more winters or whether this is the
last one, which now breaks the force of the Tuscan sea against the
facing cliffs. Be wise, strain the wine, and trim distant hope within
short limits. While we're talking, grudging time will already
have fled: seize the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow.

Horace, Ode 1.11 - translated by Michael Gilleland

Guna - a love story - Kanmani Anbodu Kaadalan

Kamal Hasan likes to push the envelop at times, and his movie Guna is no exception. It is a movie about a deranged man who kidnaps a woman who resembles his fantasy woman. In the song "Kanmani, Anbodu Kaadalan", he wants to write her a letter. Being illiterate, he dictates his letter to her, and she writes it down, and sings it. The song and the sentiments expressed therein are sheer poetry. Here are the lyrics, and my attempt at translation.


(kanmani)

kanmani anboadu kaadhalan naan ezhudhum kadidhamae
ponmani un veettil soukyamaa naan ingu soukyamae
unnai ennip paarkkaiyil kavidhai sottudhu
adhai ezhudha ninaikkaiyil varththai muttudhu

undaana kaayam yaavum thannaalae aarip poagum
maayam enna ponmaanae ponmaanae
enna kaayam aana poadhum en maeni thaangik kollum
undhan maeni thaangaadhu sendhaenae
endhan kaadhal ennavenru sollaamal aenga aenga azhugai vandhadhu
endhan soagam unnaith thaakkum enrennumboadhu vandha azhugai ninradhu
manidhar unarndhu kolla idhu manidhak kaadhalalla
adhaiyum thaandip punidhamaanadhu

abiraamiyae thaalaattum saamiyae naandhaanae theriyumaa
sivagaamiyae sivanil neeyum paadhiyae adhuvum unakku puriyumaa
suba laali laali laali laali
abiraami laali laali laali


Translation
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My dearest, this is a letter that I, your lover, writes with love and affection.
My sweet one, is everyone fine at your end? I'm doing fine here.
When I think of you, poetry flows
But when I try to write it down, words escape me

Any wounds that are inflicted on me heal quickly, what's the magic, my dear!
My body will withstand any wounds
Your fair skin will not, honey
The angst of not expressing my love to you makes me weep
But the thought that my sorrow may affect you makes the tears stop
This is not a worldly love for mankind to understand
But is a pure love that transcends that
Abirami, don't you know that I'm the Siva that cradles you and gently rocks you to sleep?
O Sivagami, you're the half of Siva, do you understand?
Sweet lullabies
Abirami, sweet lullabies

-Sridhar

Flight

The big busomed woman in burgundy
Sits knitting a cyan sweater
"Your seat buttom cushion can be used as a floatation device"
"We hope you enjoy your flight"
The aircraft mechanic in a neon green vest clears the flight as he dashes out
We push back, and await our stairway to heaven.

The yarn unrolls, as the form takes shape.
Pushed back, yet waiting.
A momentary flash of darkness, or a lapse of reason?
A light approaches, but we block its path
Then, shaken out of our reverie, we groan to the right
Blue lights lead the way
Even as a light roars up.

"Folks we are ready now"
We line up and hurl down
Then slip the surly bonds of earth...

Motorcycle Diaries

I had my first Creative Writing class last Tuesday. It was an interesting experience, to say the least. Our first assignment was to write something about any book, or movie, or anything thing, that we might have seen, or read. It could be anything you saw or read last month, or even when you were eight. We were given 20 minutes to do this. Talk about pressure! After much deliberation, I decided to write about "The Motorcycle Diaries".

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The Motorcycle Diaries, 2004

I love motorcycles. Back home in India, we have plenty of mopeds. The first "real" motorcycle that I rode was a 350cc monster [Note] dry weight 358 lbs (163 Kg). The Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R weighs 355 lbs [End Note], called the Enfield Bullet, when I snuck a ride from a friend, when I was in my grade 10 (at 15). We switched seats before I got home, because I knew my mother was waiting. She felt my heart pounding, and suspected that I had ridden it. My grandfather had to reassure her that even sitting on the backseat of one would do that to you!

When I heard about "The Motorcycle Diaries", the story of a young man's journey through South America, I knew I had to see it. That the person in question was Che Guevara was an added bonus.

It was thrilling to watch a young Che and his buddy, pack up on their old monster, and head out into the countryside - it made my heart pound. Perhaps my wanting to take some time off and do a roadtrip, had something to do with it. It made me wince when they had their spills, and reminded me nostalgically of my own.

When their bike was totalled, and they had to continue by other means, and it became apparent that it was not going to be on another motorcycle, I almost felt disappointed. Notice I said almost.

Here is where the director tugs at your heart strings, and keeps a firm grip on them. As Che's journey continues, you experience his epiphany, and even as the cinematography remains magnificent, the vision changes dramatically.

You can feel the inner turmoils of a young man from a successful family, his career planned out, as he ponders life, and his role in it.

The climax of the movie is when an asthmatic Che swims across the freezing river, the air sucked out of his lungs, struggling to join the segregated lepers on their colony, on the eve of his journey forward from there.

You many not know much about Che the Guerilla, and his actions, but you leave understanding a young man's growing up, his transformation, his metamorphosis. This movie is like the beautiful butterfly that emerges. It takes your breath away.

A Student's Nightmare

I wrote this in Aug, 2002. At that time, Anand, my friend, was also my roommate. Now, he's a happily married man, living in Seattle, having recently moved there. (That's where I was on the long weekend)
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Have you ever studied something, only to have it come back and haunt you when you least expect it? Well, it actually happened to me one time! Read on ...

I personally dislike heaters. If it is cold, I would rather throw on an extra layer, than turn on the heater. As it happened, my roommate subscribed to the opposite point of view. I never realised this bone of contention would have interesting consequences.

Belmont is usually a little on the cold side - even though we Indians have been tempered by the cold of such places as Pittsburgh and West Lafayette, the long stay in the cozy confines of the Bay Area, and SiliconValley have softened us back again. My roommate, more than anyone else.

He complained about one colder than usual summer night, and set the thermostat at 67. I boldly upped it to 68, thinking it would never hit it anyway! Boy, was I wrong.

I hit the sack a little early. Sometime after, the temperature continued to drop, and the heater finally kicked in. Here is how it is for a thermophobe like myself:

The relative humidity of this place is somewhere inthe realm of 4%, if I remember correctly. Hot, DRY air is blown into your room in an effort to warm it up. With our heater not having been used for a while, I suspect it spewed out extra carbon dioxide (or perhaps carbon monoxide).

For a while, everything is alright. As your inner struggles with the discomfort begin to lose, you find yourself suddenly awake. To wake up with a start, with a strange, dry feeling on your body, and a sense of suffocation, is to say the least, my friend, rather unsettling. I woke up, turned off the darn heater, tried to ventilate my room with fresh cool air, and sleepily plonked back into bed. That's when it happened.

In this twilight between wakefulness and sleep, as I tossed and turned sleepily in my bed, trying to get back to sleep, here were the thoughts going on in my head

"Recunoscator" (grateful - masculine)"
Recunoscatoare" (grateful - feminine)"
Adevarat" (Really?)
.....
"Kya aap angrezi bolthe hai?" (Do you speak English?)

The last one did it for me. I was wide awake at this point, chuckling, wondering what my Romanian and Hindi lessons were doing to me!

-Sridhar

Samovar Tea Lounge

Hi,

Last weekend, I had been to a place called the SamovarTea Lounge. I had seen this shop a while back, while driving by, and the name made me take notice.

I had first seen the word Samovar in "War and Peace",a book by Leo Tolstoy, considered a classic. While I'm not going to rave over it, it certainly was a well written novel, beautifully covering the lifestyles and events of old Russia, and the French invasion. In that book, Samovar referred to tea, rather a high tea,where tea was served with some snacks. I found out that Samovar actually refers to a Russian invention to boil tea, and literally translates to "self boiler".It became a symbol of Russian hospitality and family comfort, as well as a sign of prosperity.

Tea has been consigned to second rate status in theUnited States. I have seen very few places with really good tea, and even there, it awaits patiently by the side, away from the lime light of coffee, America's favorite drink. Therefore, a dedicated tea lounge in the middle of Noe Valley, close to home, was definitely an intriguing prospect.

Last weekend, I decided to check the place out.Carrying along volume 5 of Ponniyin Selvan, I drove down to the Samovar Tea Lounge, and was happy and surprised to get parking right across the street from it.

Inside, they had a huge assortment of teas from around the world - green, white, and black teas. I still haven't found out what white teas are! But I was really glad to see Assam tea there. I decided to give it a try, and was not at all disappointed. A huge ceramic pot of tea, with about 5 smalls cups worth. It was accompanied by a nice fig cake.

The place had some interesting dishes as well. I decided to make a lunch of it, and also ordered some samosas. They were both delicious, and going by the appearance of the other dishes that other people ordered, it all looked really good.

The tea was served on a tray lined with bamboo, with a nice wooden container for the sugar cubes, and a ceramic container of milk, and a small ceramic handleless cup for the tea. The decor was definitely east asian, with a Buddhist decor, and music that ranged from mridangam, to salsa.

I later on tried the Darjeeling tea too, and am now waiting to try the Nilgiri, before moving on to someJapanese varieties.

Daddy, I think you will really like this place. Infact, I was thinking of you on my first trip there,and how you will like it.

-Sridhar