At this moment

Prash: So, how do u feel?
Myself staring at a BIG box of ice cream: I feel like the ice cream; correction- I feel like the cherries in it
After a while,
Myself: Heck, is it snowing inside the room? I remember that it did on TV today morning when I was trying to watch the French Open Women’s Finals
The clock ticks on….
Myself: Prash, I just noticed something…why is there a time delay between me wanting to take a leak and the actual occurrence of this event?
And then I begin to narrate the story of a defeated king who is inspired by a spider…trying to climb this web, falling almost everytime until finally it succeeds…
Hey Prash , the moral of the story is “Try till you succeed” but don’t you think that this is stupid? What if the insect tore its ligament like how you did a few years ago?…that seems to be a more logical explanation at this moment….
Make a note of the phrase “at this moment”…that’s the key basically
“And hey, you must tell me who is better – the movie Phir Hera Pheri that we watched or this great soul sitting in front of you….
All the while, the room is resounding with laughter….
There was something else that I never said…that I felt like Gautam Buddha with his head suddenly shaved off….
Now, I am fully aware that this is shit to most people and doesn’t make any sense, but to those who can relate to even a wee bit of this and who can infer what “this moment” refers to, it does make sense. Who cares about the rest, they aren’t worth knowing anyways...and thanks Prash,once again....I owe it all to you(pun intended)

The H(e??)aven a.k.a SCOB 184 a.k.a my lab

Bloke A : I like to address him as Mr. Clean Freak. Over 30 years of age and still single. 1000% committed to his “research” and his ambition is to make it into a BIG lab where science is THE word. Nerdy to a fault and is not ashamed to disclose that he judges people on the basis of how clean their nails are. A cleanliness freak and a Phileas Fogg in the making. The problem is, that he expects the world to be like him and everyone around him must be as ordered and disciplined as he is. Otherwise he turns his head away. A walking encyclopedia and can talk about anything for hours and hours together. Claims that he was in love when he was younger but it isn’t hard to imagine why it never got beyond a certain extent. Has an uncanny resemblance to a crocodile and every time he embarks on his monologue delivery, I am reminded of one such amphibian opening and shutting its mouth incessantly while it flaps its disgusting tail.
Bloke B: Meddlesome and irritating, simply has to poke his nose into everything and sometimes squeeze in his whole BIG egghead into everyone else’s lives. Gossip is the most exciting thing in his life and he has to give away that free advice that he for some weird reason considers invaluable. Spends more time staring at other people’s monitors than his own.
Bloke C: A steam engine- smokes like a chimney. Huffs and puffs his way through every damn place…even the laboratory, which is supposed to be rid of microbes and dust. Changes his shirt once a week and his pants once in two weeks…never zips them though. Gets his wife to cut his hair since he cant afford to spend so much on a hair cut but owns a sprawling bungalow. Doesnt care if he is seen poking his nose or if he stinks a mile. Keeps all his knowledge to himself and probably feels insecure sharing it. Watching Chinese porn, sneezing into his shirt and proudly wearing his wife’s shirts are his favorite past times.
Bloke D: Mr. gentle and soft-spoken. Is completely ineffective in enforcing even an ounce of order which is what he is supposed to do. Rattles off stories about his kids biting him or kicking him or getting punished by being sent to their room early, all day. Solving cross word puzzles and getting stuff signed are the only other things he does.
Mademoiselle 1: Curt and gifted with a caustic tongue. A tom boy. A health freak and lives in the gym. If anyone is struggling with anything she concludes that they are stupid and don’t deserve to be there. Hates kids and will never have them. The female counterpart of Mr. Cleanliness Freak. The only jewellery that ever adorns her is 3 ear rings and a camel bone necklace. Imagine my surprise when I smelt nail polish in her vicinity..Oh no…she uses it for her AFM and hates wearing it or anyone wearing it for that matter.
Mademoiselle 2 : A mother hen who wants to help solve everyone’s troubles. Wants to bond with everyone she meets and share her experiences with them. Has interesting stories to tell thanks to her life in two totally different countries- Iran and France. Loves wine, cigarettes, perfumes, her daughter and good sex ( well who doesn’t) Has taken it upon herself lately, to convince me to be “good”.
Mademoiselle 3; Married in her teens…takes pride in discussing her three ex-bfs who are all now homosexual, her husband who for some reason is a sweet little kid and the various methods of birth control that she uses. Loves cooking for this better half character and this is her dumb world. She has buckets of fluid stored in her tear glands that are let out at the slightest opportunity. Can chat non stop for hours together and with anyone.
Mademoiselle 4: yours truly
The Ring Master: Casual, laid back, nonchalant character with a wizard brain and the knack of grabbing all the grant money that he lays his hands upon. SUPER optimistic and there are 2 five letter words that matter to him- PAPER & MONEY. Doesn’t care if you exist except when he remembers that you do and that happens once in a blue moon. Professionally and personally, lives in disarray; is more scared of you than you are of him.
All of these characters coexist at this place which is known officially as “SCOB 184”
And this, my friends is my second home; it shall be so for half a decade.
Last but not the least, there is this external force that gives that extra impetus and makes all the difference. Now, my poor physicist father is sure to get shocked to see the good use I am putting his subject to. "It" is totally unrelated to all this and yet a part of everything I do. I have no clue When Where Why and How it all happened (That is the title of a book on history which made me fall in love with the subject overnight)
I have to give it to everyone of them though; for all that I have learnt from each person. Life would have been so uneventful without all this.

Life in two baskets

I am never fond of sci-fi movies but there is something interesting about a few of them. Most of them don’t make too much of sense, but I tend to draw my own analogies out of them. An example would be the consideration that everything I have seen and felt and probably will do so later on is classified into two categories. I sort them and place them into two baskets- one I call “the surreal” and the other I call “the real”. The only connection between both of them is my mind. If I can succeed in mentally keeping both of these disjoint, life is hassle free. And if I ever do conquer the surreal, I will probably be “the one”. Life is like a witch, an enchantress, a sorceress; enticing one to believe that the evanescent sensation of happiness and bliss will last forever. The illusion can never last long, the bubble has to break simply because it is way too perfect. And when it does, it takes away all the lovely things that it brought along. There are times when every ounce of strength that you think you possess has suddenly dissolved away. Where is that smile on the face and that beautiful song that dwelt in the heart? It takes away the “you” that you were…so far. The capability to feel anything anymore is gone and shall probably never return with the same fervor. So powerful is this sensation of Love, that it engulfs even those who have never been capable of expressing any emotions at all. And to them, letting it go is a curse, a misery; a degenerative disease that will just destroy them. Sadism indeed it is, because the same experience makes you aware of how intense your emotions could be and snatches it away from you. Shells are built all around oneself and the past is locked up safe in the Pandora’s Box which is all that the heart shall function as from now on. Too much or too little of anything never does any good but who cares any longer? Memories are sealed and words shall never be spoken. To be true to your heart and to care is just pointless. Especially, when what was once next to godliness has now been shunned and disregarded. But then, when there is darkness – it cannot last forever. Dawn shall bless us someday.

The daughter of a whore

My sorrow,my joy, my only love, my everything, she was
A heavenly nymph with eyes that shone like the stars
I could not watch her become another me
Helpless, I knew that I had to set her free
The clock ticked away incessantly
Bastards!they would come for her mercilessly
The dawn would drag her into this infernal world
Oh no! she was too pristine to be sold
The world is too bad for you I told her
O my little princess,please forgive your mother
But you shall never have a life of shame
Wretched and lowly, with a tainted name
In my arms she lay as she breathed her last
as she journeyed into the heavens past
A fatherless daughter of a whore
My darling, my angel
and then she was no more

three hours of grandeur

From a dirty shabby room piled with books and clothes ( exams being the relevant excuse at this time of the year), the ambience was suddenly transformed into sheer lavishness and grandiosity. We were supposedly attending a memorial lecture for the Alzheimer's AARC Consortum at the Ritz Carlton, Phoenix. We spent 5 minutes going round in circles in order to find a convenient parking spot and figured that these guys had only "valet parking". My coulleague commented that the guy who did it for us probably never saw such a car before. Breakfast was perfect- croissants,fruit, juice and coffee. The lecture was technically disapoointing evidently because it had to cater to lots of non-scientists and non-researchers in the audience. Each one of us dutifuly procured a copy of the schedules, the writing paper with the Hotel's name stamped on it. The ballroom was where this was happening and the paintings and the decorations distracted me from time to time. The restrooms had towels as against the usual cheaper option that is common elsewhere!. Lunch was a sumptous meal. I had someone behind me all the time to take care of all that i would need. People were at their formal best and i realised that i was the only person in jeans. Thank God that i had worn a shirt instead of one of my t-shirts and slippers instead of my canvas shoes. A lot of big names and big people in neuroscience research were present and i spent most of my time making a mental note of their faces even as my coulleague pointed them out to me. The speaker also pointed out that the problem i will be working on for my thesis, has the largest amount of money pumped in from pharmaceutical industries; the only difference being that they are looking at conventional methods to develope their drug while i am using something that is quite different. My PhD mentor leaned across from his seat and said- so how does it feel to know that what you are working on is one of the most important issues being addressed in Alzheimer's Research?! All i could manage was a broad smile and something stupid that i mumbled.....
All in all a very inspiring experience.....hope i get to present a poster at some such place and maybe that way i will be able to interact with all the big brains of neuroscience.

Those ugly fears in my head

A fabulous evening it was, as we walked along the beach. The wind was kissing the tall green blades of grass and the water shimmered under the evening sun. It was warm and lovely – he said. I longed to agree with him. I felt cold and I could sense the tension build up inside me. My heart was throbbing and the fear was unbearable. Oh how I wished I could speak about the way I felt. The ignominy weighed me down as always. I tried to listen, but he seemed so distant. Even as he made my head rest on his knee, I could feel the wetness on my forehead. It all came back to me in a flash. The faces of the men who had cornered me. I had watched helplessly as my best friend in school fled for her life. I could not blame her.How could I forget the rough hands, the cruel faces and the harsh lips all over me. The dark corridor in school which I always feared. My relentless screams had probably saved me but I had struggled to fight the feeling of shame and disgust ever since.And now, I felt his hands softly caress my face and I looked into his tender eyes even as they became bigger and bigger and bigger….untill the moment when I could feel his breath on my lips…I began to whimper and tremble….i had to break free…..i scrambled back onto my feet and began running…..i had no strength…..i could never succeed in fighting the fear……..a few feet away from the water I heard the shouting and I looked back to see his face even as his hands gripped me.I felt the soft and comforting words soothe me. I knew not how long I stayed. But I remember the feeling as the pain left me…to be gone forever….as all that I had suppressed began to flow…I remember the night that had given me hope…the first time that I had ever wished to see the sun rise and feel its warmth on my skin. I had fought them and won; I was at last rid of those ugly fears in my head.

Those Big Evenings

Its been more than four years since i was awarded the Aditya Birla Scholarship. Two days back, i received an email from Corporate Communications at The Aditya Birla Group, asking if i could be present for an Alumni meet at Mumbai. I remembered this person because she was extremely sweet and one of the very few people who did not show the "Oh poor bitisian things - why did they even come? these JEE top rank prodigies will jus squash you" attitude.
It all began with this little chit of paper slipped under my door sometime in Aug 2001. Stated that i must meet "gsu" regarding these scholarships. I never went because i was mortally scared of him and i was sure that it was some mistake. Indu dragged me along the next time, and we figured that this was something BIG. The forms came and the essays were written. I spoke about the olympiads, IGCAR and what i wanted to do. And then it was forgotten;totally cast aside. I wasnteven supposed to be eligible because it was meant for toppers and the professors decided to send all the state toppers. They had to have 20 and it so happened that there were only 17. They decided to pick the highest rank in Chemical, Civil and Mechanical Engineering and i happened to be the one in chemical engg. Until then i was damn confused with the decision i had taken because i knew i could have done a EEE if i wanted to. I dont think i gave it a second thought ever since. After about a month, three girls from BITS were chosen for the next round. Our warden so happy that she almost hugged us.
We had tickets on the Rajdhaani to Bombay and lived in a three star hotel. Our interviews took place in a room at the Taj, overlooking the beach and the Gateway of India. Grandeur is what i lived in, for two days. The delineation between us and the rest was distinctly seen. For some reason, we were less endowed ( ahem! no pun intended) and were cast aside. The schedules said IIT and IIM .....they were not modified to include the fact that BITS was participating. We felt stupid to say the least. The interview itself was one of its kind. Illustrious people...not one not two, four of them. Director general CSIR, Director BARC and two others. I was pissing in my pants. The woman who escorted me was the person representing the Birla Group and was just making sure that things werent going too technical. Twenty minutes later I walked out dazed. I had talked about Brain Drain, the quit india movement, Cloning and the united states preventing a lot of it from happening, Stem Cells, Darwins theory and giraffes with long necks, Entropy, what was common and different between a scientist and an artist, if i would be able to balance a family and a career and kalpakkam. Two hours later, when all three of our names were called, we felt like kicking every other person's behind. The dinner was a strain and so were all the formalities the next day. But a wonderful experience.
All notice boards in pilani had a copy of our photograph in the newspapers, and i got to meet the Director in person thanks to this. Some bastard claimed i sweet talked my way through it. Fuck him...and four and a half years later i remember every microsecond of those 36 hours....I went back two years later for an alumni meet and this was more fun. I stayed at the Taj just after the blasts at the Gateway of India. Lavish is the only word i can think of. The best moment was when my dad called up and said that the Director BARC spoke to him and congradulated him on my winning the scholarship....and of course the fact that it lifted a HUGE financial burden off his head......The Fulton Fellowship thing that i received at ASU seemed quite similar and was thoroughly an enjoyable experience as well. And oh...i still hold a four year ole grudge against a person whom i claim was too egoistic to acknowledge my presence on the day of the interviews in Bombay.