Monday 30 December 2013

SILENT SOUNDS

(I had published originally this to a group of friends around March 2008...posting a revised version here....)


A significant part of my childhood was spent among the Santhals (an ancient group of tribes inhabiting the Chhota Nagpur plateau region of eastern India and mentioned in the Vedic texts and epics) – I used to visit their strikingly clean villages, have some of their food, play with a special set of bows and arrows they had made for me, and of course, listen to the numerous stories of how they could predict the weather and future seasons by simply observing nature….

Those were the days when most houses were not for the humans’ exclusive use, they were shared to a fair measure, by the flora and fauna of the immediate vicinity: frogs, snails, lizards, insects, butterflies, bees were our constant companions both inside and around the house, and many a happy childhood hour was spent simply watching their antics.

I distinctly remember watching long lines of ants scurrying from one place to another and my Santhal gardener telling me that heavy rains were in the offing. If there was a heavy cloud build-up and the frogs started croaking, he said the rain would be heavy, while if the frogs remained silent, then there would be a storm and light rain….I used to be surprised at his confidence, but do not remember now how many of his predictions ultimately came true or not. They also told me how wild animals and dogs howled and cats became restless before a flood or any natural calamity, how you could predict the rain by looking at the moon the previous night, and many such things…

Many decades have passed in between – I do not know if those villages exist today, or, if the “Murmu” and “Tirki” uncles of my childhood are still alive or not, or if their knowledge of nature has been passed on to their progeny. Forget the frogs and butterflies, you do not get to see many ants in and around the house either, in these “fertiliser – pesticide – Lizol” – infested days…..

These thoughts came to me as I was reading some very interesting articles recently, about which I will talk now….  (I have deliberately retained some hyperlinks along the way for background reference.)

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The Tsunami of 2004

It is a well known fact that long before that great tsunami arrived from the Indian Ocean on 26th December 2004, all the animals living along the coast lines had fled the area….

This was a report published in a Sri Lankan newspaper on 30th Dec. 2004 : Reports after Sunday's tsunami say that despite the enormous number of human casualties—116,000 deaths and rising, at last count—many animals seem to have survived the tidal wave unscathed. At Sri Lanka's national wildlife park at Yala, which houses elephants, buffalo, monkeys, and wild cats, no animal corpses were found on Wednesday.

In Phuket, Thailand, where the north-bound tsunami wave first struck land, an elephant was seen to trumpet wildly, break off the chains that tied it to a tree, and rush to higher ground, quite some minutes before the disaster struck.

How did they know ? Science, perhaps, has an answer, or perhaps, two answers – infrasound and / or electromagnetic waves.
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History is littered with tales about animals acting weirdly before natural disasters, but the phenomenon has been hard for scientists to pin down. Sometimes animals get crazy before a quake, sometimes they don't. Here's what we know: Animals have sensory abilities different from our own, and they might have been tipped off to that Sunday's disaster. Do they listen to silent sounds ?

First, it's possible that the animals may have heard the quake before the tsunami hit land. The underwater rupture likely generated sound waves known as infrasound or infrasonic sound. These low tones can be created by hugely energetic events, like meteor strikes, volcanic eruptions, avalanches, and earthquakes. Humans can't hear infrasound—the lowest key on a piano is about the lowest tone the human ear can detect.

A second early-warning sign the animals might have sensed is ground vibration. In addition to spawning the tsunamis, that Sunday's quake generated massive vibration waves that spread out from the epicentre on the floor of the Indian Ocean to the Bay of Bengal and travelled through the surface of the Earth. Known as Rayleigh waves (for Lord Rayleigh, who predicted their existence in 1885), these vibrations move through the ground like waves move on the surface of the ocean. They travel at 10 times the speed of sound. The waves would have reached Sri Lanka hours before the water hit.

Mammals, birds, insects, and spiders can detect Rayleigh waves. Most can feel the movement in their bodies, although some, like snakes and salamanders, put their ears to the ground in order to perceive it. The animals at Yala might have felt the Rayleigh waves and run for higher ground.

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We all understand the “electromagnetic waves” part to some extent. Let us talk about the other piece : Infrasound.

Infrasound is sound with a frequency too low to be heard by the human ear. The study of such sound waves is sometimes referred to as infrasonics, covering sounds beneath the lowest limits of human hearing – 16 hertz down to 0.001 hertz. This frequency range is utilized by seismographs for monitoring earthquakes. Infrasound is characterized by an ability to cover long distances and get around obstacles with little dissipation.

Volcanoes produce low-frequency sounds : Possibly the first observation of naturally occurring infrasound was in the aftermath of the Krakatoa eruption in 1883, when concussive acoustic waves circled the globe seven times or more and were recorded on barometers worldwide.
Although volcanic eruptions are frequently reported with audible observations such as 'booms', 'roars', 'gunshots', or 'jets', these sounds form only the tip of the iceberg in terms of the total radiated sound energy.  Volcanoes are much more prolific radiators of intense sound in the infrasonic bandwidth (i.e., below 20 Hz), which is below the threshold of human audibility. 

Our selective hearing is perhaps fortunate because even small eruptions can produce ~1 Hz infrasound which exceeds 100 Pa at several kilometers from the vent.  If our ears were as sensitive to this low frequency energy as they are to audible sounds (e.g., at 1000 Hz), the equivalent sound pressure level (SPL) of 140 dB would be loud enough to cause pain.

Infrasound was also used by Allied forces in World War I to locate artillery; the frequency of the muzzle blast from firing was noticeably different than that produced by the explosion, allowing the two sources to be discriminated.

Infrasound sometimes results naturally from severe weather, surf, lee waves, avalanches, earthquakes, bolides, waterfalls, calving of icebergs, aurora, lightning and sprites. Nonlinear ocean wave interactions in ocean storms produce pervasive infrasound around 0.2 Hertz known as microbaroms.

Scientists accidentally discovered that the spinning core or vortex of a tornado creates infrasonic waves. When the vortices are large, the frequencies are lower; smaller vortices have higher frequencies. These infrasonic sound waves can be detected up to 100 miles away, and are used to provide early warning of tornadoes.

Infrasound can also be generated by man-made processes such as sonic booms, explosions (both chemical and nuclear), by machinery such as diesel engines and wind turbines and by specially designed mechanical transducers (industrial vibration tables) and large-scale subwoofer loudspeakers. The Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty Organization uses infrasound as one of its monitoring technologies (along with seismic, hydro-acoustic, and atmospheric radionuclide monitoring).

Whales, elephants, hippopotamuses, rhinoceros, giraffes, okapi, and alligators are known to use infrasound to communicate over distances up to hundreds of miles. It has also been suggested that migrating birds use naturally generated infrasound, from sources such as turbulent airflow over mountain ranges, as a navigational aid. Elephants, in particular, produce infrasound waves that travel through solid ground and are sensed by other herds using their feet (although they may be separated by hundreds of kilometers).
While we now know that animals can detect infrasonic sound, how do humans react ?

Infrasound has been known to cause feelings of awe or fear in humans. Since it is not consciously perceived, it can make people feel vaguely that supernatural events are taking place.

Horror movie makers have used this for years. Irréversible is one such movie by Gaspar Noé. Alfred Hitchcock used infrasound to produce unease or disorientation in the audience in some of his film soundtracks.
Is that why when we watch horror films on television these days we are either bored or sadly amused, because the amplifiers at the broadcasting station or the TV set would have filtered out the infrasonic sounds in the sound track ?

The Infrasonic 17 Hz tone experiment

On May 31, 2003, a team of UK researchers held a mass experiment where they exposed some 700 people to music laced with soft 17 Hz sine waves played at a level described as "near the edge of hearing", produced by an extra-long stroke sub-woofer mounted two-thirds of the way from the end of a seven-meter-long plastic sewer pipe.

The experimental concert (entitled Infrasonic) took place in the Purcell Room over the course of two performances each consisting of four musical pieces. Two of the pieces in each concert had 17 Hz tones played underneath. In the second concert, the pieces that were to carry a 17 Hz undertone were swapped so that test results wouldn't focus on any specific musical piece.

The participants were not told which pieces included the low-level 17 Hz near-infrasonic tone. The presence of the tone resulted in a significant number (22%) of respondents reporting anxiety, uneasiness, extreme sorrow, nervous feelings of revulsion or fear, chills down the spine and feelings of pressure on the chest.
In presenting the evidence to the British Association for the Advancement of Science (known simply as the BA), the scientists responsible said: "These results suggest that low frequency sound can cause people to have unusual experiences even though they cannot consciously detect infrasound.”

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The Ghost in the Machine

Research by the late Vic Tandy, a lecturer at Coventry University, suggested that the frequency 19 hertz was responsible for many ghost sightings. He was working late one night alone in a supposedly haunted laboratory at Warwick, when he felt something was watching over him, his anxiety was growing, and could detect a grey blob out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to face it, there was nothing.

The following day, he was working on his fencing foil, with the handle held in a vice. Although there was nothing touching it, it started to vibrate wildly. Further investigation led him to discover that a newly installed extraction fan was emitting a frequency of 18.98 Hz, very close to the resonant frequency of the eye (given as 18 Hz in NASA Technical Report 19770013810).

He deduced that this was why he saw a ghostly figure — it was an optical illusion caused by his eyeballs resonating. The room was exactly half a wavelength in length, and the desk was in the centre, thus causing a standing wave which caused the foil to vibrate.

Vic investigated this phenomenon further, and wrote a paper entitled The Ghost in the Machine. He carried out a number of investigations at various sites, believed to be haunted, including the basement of the Tourist Information Bureau next to Coventry Cathedral and Edinburgh Castle.

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The “Flying Dutchmen”
This term loosely refers to the phenomenon of abandoned ships found at sea. The most publicised case was that of the “Maria Celesta” where investigators found the ship completely abandoned, as if all on a sudden. There was unfinished food at the dinner table, and there were the captain’s log entries right up to the end, which showed everything to be perfectly normal. Not only had the crew disappeared, they were never found.

Scientists surmise that perhaps the infrasound from the ocean was responsible. The deep ocean, under certain conditions, emits sound waves at 7 Hz. Apparently this matches with the natural frequency of the human brain and the resonance can drive people mad, even to commit suicide. But I guess this is yet to be proven under simulated lab conditions…..

*****

While reading and thinking about this, a thought struck me – could this also be the reason for the famous Bermuda Triangle mystery ?

If you think about it, most ghost stories are around empty houses, or tunnel-like structures – structures that could typically resonate at low frequencies.

Ancient ceremonial burial sites were commonly designed as a large room with a long, narrow tunnel leading to the outside – was it by coincidence, or calculations based on some ancient wisdom, that this design was adopted – one that could resonate at infrasound frequencies and strike a sense of fear and awe among the living who dared to enter ?

Is it possible to theorise that when life emanated from some primordial soup, all creatures had more or less the same faculties of sense, which got modified over time to suit the particular immediate environment ? Mankind too, had the same aural faculties as other animals ? And then, at some point in our evolutionary history, our aural faculties moved into a higher frequency range to adapt to our immediate surroundings for reasons of simple survival ? And then, the skills of the ancestors in listening to these “silent sounds” passed into folklore ?

Is there a science behind the ancient folklore of different communities of the world – from the aborigines of Australia to the Santhals of India and the Red Indians of North America ? All these communities possessed (and perhaps still do) the capability to “read” Nature – and predict natural occurrences.

Can the so-called “paranormal phenomena” be explained by these “silent sounds” ?

You decide – and let us know….


Compiled & collated from these sources :









Wednesday 4 December 2013

Mistri - uncle

(For the uninitiated : “Mistri” is a generic word in most north-Indian languages for the common artisan – be it a mason, carpenter, plumber, technician, mechanic, watch maker or any such calling where a certain amount of experience, skill & dexterity are required to perform tasks…)

Sandeep was an electrical engineer in charge of commissioning a new breed of electronic elevators that had been introduced in the Indian market. He had never studied electronics  properly in college, and now had to make up for lost time by working hard throughout the day and poring over those college text books at night. (He had in fact, bought those books only after he graduated.)  After all, he had an image to maintain – a façade of invincibility – the company he worked for looked upon him as the last resort whenever it faced problems with those new fangled inventions. It was, indeed, a far, far cry from the days when Boolean algebra and the difference between a thyristor and a transistor flummoxed him completely.

Poor planner that he was, he compounded his problems by enrolling for an evening MBA course. Very early in the three-year ordeal, he wished there were forty hours to a day – there was simply not enough time to study electronics and management subjects. Somewhere along the way he realised that he had begun to think and talk differently – his dream of conquering the world with his engineering prowess had begun to vaporise, lost in the haze created by Economics, Accounting and Law. His mind was one big mess, with Schmitt triggers, debits, credits, flip-flops, economic laws and Companies Act rolling around always in one ungodly heap……

In the midst of all this, his boss called him one day and asked him to commission an elevator on an emergency basis at the private residence of a filthy rich businessman – the fellow’s mother was in hospital and he had to finish the work before she was released. These were assignments he hated – working in office buildings and hotels was OK, but private residences ??? They were an absolute no-no as far as he was concerned….. The boss explained that he was aware of Sandeep’s revulsion for installing elevators in private residences, but this was an emergency with a deadline, and he was the one person who could be relied upon.

He landed at the assigned site and found the installation team had done a very good job indeed. He started his work. There were about seven kids in the house all between six and ten years of age, all terribly excited over the fact that very soon they would have a lift of their own…. As soon as they returned from school they crowded around the installation area, asking questions and passing comments.

“Mistri-ji, itni lambi taar kahan lagega ?” (Where will you use these long wires ?)
“Mistri-ji, yeh lift kab chalega ?” (When will this lift run ?) and so on…. They bothered the installation team no end…. And then it was Sandeep’s turn to become the focus of their attention.

Late in the afternoon on the first day itself, Sandeep was busy testing out the connections on top of the lift car with the children watching and chatting animatedly, when he heard a loud male voice ask, “Lift ka bada mistri aya ?” (Has the head mechanic for the lift come ?) And all the kids chorused, “Haan aya, idhar hai.” (Yes, he is here..”)

Sandeep braced himself for a barrage of questions, but then heard the voice say, “Chalo, thik hai.”(OK…) and move away.


At home that night, he could not sleep. “Mistri ???” “Bada Mistri ???” “MISTRI ???” the words kept ringing loudly in his head…. From childhood he had associated that word with masons, plumbers and carpenters – people who used primitive tools for their trade. And here was he, a graduate engineer working with oscilloscopes and digital probes, in addition to being a management student…. being called a “mistri” ?

The next day, he wore a tie to the site. The installation team was very appreciative – told him he looked different, and they kept working quietly and fast… till the kids came home from school. The first to break the silence was a six-year-old girl, “Mistri-uncle aaj humko lift chadhayenge ?” (Mistri-uncle, will you take me for a ride on the lift ?)

Sandeep stopped working. “Mistri-uncle.” With a wry smile he took the little girl into the lift car and gave her a ride from one floor to the next. She squealed so loud in glee that the rest of the kids simply rushed over and wanted a ride too….. “Mistri-uncle, mistri-uncle…” was the chant… if they did say something else, it did not register…..

The tie, instead of adding to his sartorial elegance, had only managed to add one more epithet.

A day later, his work was done. He gave the lady of the house a ride and asked her to sign-off on the handover document. “To aap-hi hai mistri-uncle ?” (So you are the Mistri-uncle ?) was her appreciative question. Sandeep nodded in grim agreement.

He found a new mission in life… to shed the “mistri” image completely and comprehensively.

*****
More than a quarter of a century later, Sandeep found himself working as a grey-haired, bespectacled project manager of a large multi-component, multi-vendor, multi-phased IT project in a foreign land. Technical issues, people issues, cash flow issues, logistics issues, delivery issues, quality issues, vendor issues, in addition to customer demands, all came together almost everyday – a never-ending set of challenges that changed its hues by the hour.

Most of the problems needed to be solved by somebody else – there were very few that he could address himself. Hectic days slipped into cool evenings over a shot of Scotch…

One evening, he was in one of the Scotch sessions with a few members of the vendor team, most of whom were in the first few years of their respective careers… After a couple of pegs, when the ties, shoelaces and tongues had become quite loose, and they were having an animated conversation about deadlines and delivery challenges, one of the fellows suddenly looked at Sandeep and said, “I have decided something today.”
“What ?” asked Sandeep.
“I have decided to become a manager like you.”
“Why ?”
“Your work is so easy. You write a mail and people appreciate. You conduct a meeting and people rush to finish off what you assign. And then they appreciate you once again for telling them what to do. Look at us. There is no respect for engineers. We are like “mistri-s”. Nobody appreciates the technical work we actually do.”

“Have another peg,” said Sandeep.


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