My Cup of Tea

Remembering A Dark Night

2011-12-07T10:12:00.000-08:00

Twenty-seven years ago, a killer gas leaked out of a pesticide factory, owned primarily by the Union Carbide Corporation – an American firm that dealt with production of chemicals, pesticides and fertilizers. A faulty valve caused Methyl Isocyanate, a toxic gas, to leak out late in the night of December 2 1984. Within a couple of hours, the gas engulfed a 40 sq km area around the factory. People were roused from sleep, totally unaware of their impending doom.

The Powers

The Dec 3 issue of The Statesman set the death toll to 410, which rose to 1000 on Dec 4, 1200 on Dec 5 and 2000 on Dec 6. Although the country’s leaders expressed shock at the accident and grief for the deaths, customary hospital visits, media interviews, etc by politicians followed; strong measures against the factory owners were lacking in the immediate aftermath of the accident. The opportunism in the powers was evident from the fact that party labels were visible even in relief efforts.

The People

The factory siren sounded almost two hours after the leak. People living in nearby areas took it to be part of the customary drill. Coughing children were caressed to go back to sleep by their mothers. Only when adults started sensing the gas did people connect the dots and realize what could have happened. All this while, no representative of the factory was sent out to the town to warn people of what was coming. People spilled out on to the streets, with their eyes shut tightly because, to quote a Bhopal resident, ‘exposure to the toxic gas was like having chillies thrown into the eyes’. Owners of private vehicles helped the affected to escape to farther areas. In the ensuing melee, many a child slipped away from the hands of panic-stricken parents. Many of the affected could not even finish their escape – unable to walk any further, their lungs already killed by the toxic fumes, they helplessly slumped down on the streets and died. Whole households were killed; a group of gypsies that had camped near the railway station was wiped out. Within a day of the leak, almost 20,000 people thronged the city hospitals in search of relief and medication.

The Company

The Managing Director of Union Carbide was quick to term the accident as unfortunate, and announced that the leak was effectively sealed within two hours. A lot of the Methyl Isocyanate in the factory had escaped. None of the plant workers were affected by the leak. A Union Carbide spokesperson expressed deep concern over the tragedy, and added that the company had substantial insurance to cover any lawsuits that may be filed against it. On December 5, Union Carbide stopped all production and shipment of Methyl Isocyanate worldwide.

The Present

Health issues such as breathing problems and mental illness, which were initially written off as temporary injuries, have since blown into gargantuan problems for tens of thousands of people, and their offspring, in the vicinity. Physical deformities and stunted mental growth are commonplace among children of affected parents. Scientific analysis of samples from the area reveal that the soil and water around the factory are heavily contaminated with pesticides and fertilizer chemicals, aside from the gas leak.

Union Carbide and the Government of India ‘settled’ the issue with some compensation being paid to the victims – a settlement that might be understood only by the two parties, for it is unacceptable by any standards. $500 for each human life lost - a pittance of a compensation!!! Frustrated with and lacking any faith in their own government, the people of Bhopal have risen against the injustice meted out to them. They demand a just compensation for the atrocities they continue to suffer, and cleanup of their town by the factory owner.

Things are not as simple, though. Sixteen years after the accident, Dow Chemical, one of the largest chemical manufacturers in the world, bought Union Carbide. The new owners claim that they are not legally responsible for an event that happened before the merger of Union Carbide and Dow; and whose compensation was paid off. The people of Bhopal do not believe this argument, and are campaigning against the aforementioned company. Most recently, Dow has signed an agreement with the International Olympics Committee to sponsor all its events until 2020. Groups working for the Bhopal victims are opposing sponsorship of the 2012 London Olympics* by Dow.

Questions

Was the gas leak a result of technical or human failure? Could the enormity of the tragedy been controlled by quick remedial measures? Was the Govt of India prompt and correct in its immediate response to the accident? Were the safety measures in Bhopal identical to those enforced by Union Carbide in US plants? Is enough being done to provide justice to, and safeguard the interests of, the victims of the Gas Leak and all affected people living in areas near the factory?

References

1) While inspiration came from multiple sources, I referred to a compilation of news articles in the immediate aftermath of the Gas Leak: ‘The Legal Aftermath of the Bhopal Disaster: A Collection of Press Clippings and Other Materials (up to May 1985)’ compiled by Marc Galanter and Gary Wilson, University of Wisconsin Law School. Any errors in interpretation or presentation of facts are solely mine.

2) Most of this reading and writing was triggered when I heard of 'Bhopali' - a documentary on the survivors of the Gas Leak. It is a wonderfully made movie that captures the stories of children and youth who live in the aftermath of the disaster. If you get a chance, please watch the movie online, or organize a screening in your campus/locality. More information may be obtained at Bhopali.

* More information is available at Bhopal

Perspectives

2011-06-21T13:46:00.001-07:00

A chat between a grad student and his friend:

Friend: Do you know... today (21st june) is the longest day of the year?

Grad student: Dude, in grad school, EVERY day seems to be the longest day of my life... sigh.

The grant mantra

2011-06-18T16:45:00.000-07:00

A recent visit to a potential collaborator’s lab threw up more than just a possible research project. As we drove through corn fields, I discovered how grant writing is akin to story-telling. You start with a basic idea / thought / premise. Develop a few off shoots and pursue the one that sounds most promising. Cite well-cited publications, if it’s a method development grant, always mention a biomedical application (preferably cancer or stem cells: you are sure to get money on these). Beat around the bush a little bit; throw in bombastic adjectives like ‘novel’, ‘pioneering’, etc. Then, just to be on the safe side, add a few words of caution, so that the reviewers think that you know what you are talking about. The best way to get a grant funded is to send a draft to one of the panel members before submission. If you have a friend among the elders, then life is great. Make the necessary changes and name the editors suggested by this friend, submit your grant; and sit back and relax. In any case, the people sitting on the elders’ heads who decide government policy have little to no scientific aptitude; forget knowledge of your area of research. All you can then do is hope that the sorting hat calls out your name.

Arbit

2011-03-25T16:03:00.001-07:00

What's with this blog??? Defunct for months, eh! Time to sweep aside the cobwebs yet again.

Madison tit-bits

Let me start by apologizing to the scant readers who might have given up all hope, if ever there was some, to see something new spring up here. Spring... ya, that's something new. The next five months are the best time to be in this part of the globe. Longer days, warmer nights, music by the lake, bike trips, shorts and tees.... those little things I never knew I would cherish and crave for!

From back home

Think India right now and the first thing that comes to one's mind is the 22 yard strip, timber, men-in-blue and the Cup. However mediocre the teams may be, this Cup seems to have been as entertaining as any. Holding it in the subcontinent, the heart of the cricketing world, has proven to be a master stroke for the ICC. More moolaah, more fans, everyone's happy. The Indian team has stumbled its way through to set up a mouth watering clash with neighbours Pakistan. May the best team win.

Across the world

Earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear threats.. eeks! What's next? (I had stopped here to check on an experiment. As things usually turn out, I followed this with a quick browse of the world news and was horrified to watch a video of a Brazilian teen being shot five times by a bunch of cops!! It seemed as if the cops were on weed, or thought they were playing PS2... sanity, people!)

Lab chatter

NO AIR BUBBLES!!! Yay!

I am getting started on a project that involves watching how bacteria get killed by a toxin; and until today, was being 'bug'ged by air bubbles that would enter my reaction chamber. This problem seems to have been sorted out today. Hope this isn't a flash in the pan. Progress feels sweet :)

That's all for now. Peace out...

Questions?

2010-07-25T16:07:00.000-07:00

I am writing this post to discuss the inherent fear of raising a question in public, which undoubtedly resides within many of us. Most of us fear becoming the butt of everyone’s jokes for asking a seemingly dumb question, although we secretly admire someone brave enough to ask the same question. Having experienced the pangs of many an unasked question personally, I can easily relate to this thought. Where does this apprehension arise from? I feel one overarching source is the fear of being judged by others. Questions tend to acquire tags, which lead to you questioning yourself and that eventually results in hesitation. I am, often, amused by the tags people assign: a ‘simple’ question gets the ‘dumb’ tag, a well-framed question might be called ‘smart’, etc. Such tags invariably get transferred from the question to the questioner, and may have high levels of persistence.

As a high schooler, I remember feeling happy asking questions in class. Some were due to my imagination, a few would come to my mind because I would day dream in lectures and lose track of what was being taught, yet others came up when I wanted to break the monotony of the class; and I would always have one question to eat up the last five minutes of class hours! Asking questions is always easier when people around you are interested more in the discussion than in taking potshots at each other. It also has a lot to do with how the respondent answers a question. I have felt less inclined to question teachers who have rubbished my questions nonchalantly. Instead, those who would help me frame a question properly and then go on to answer it were the ones who got more queries from me later. Brushing aside a question without paying attention is probably the worst thing a teacher could do. It breaks the confidence in the teacher, sending out a message that the teacher is superior and hence should not be bugged with trivia. Giving a patient hearing to a question breaks the ice between the questioner and the respondent, paving the way for detailed discussion.

Some of my most memorable classes were in Biochemistry during my Masters where my teacher would set aside time in each lecture for questions alone. The thought of being able to ask any question, even one without any relevance to the day’s discussion, was liberating. He would then ponder over it for a minute, and give a lot more than just a straightforward answer. A good answer should open one or more windows, he would say, that allow the questioner to look beyond the confines of a specific answer and provide ample opportunities to scratch parallel lines of thought.

Shashi Tharoor, former Under-Secretary General of the UN and member of the Indian Parliament, said about his undergrad life, “In College, in addition to answering questions, we learnt to question the answers. Some of us would go a step further and question the questions!” Questioning observed and abstract concepts lies at the root of science and life. Ignoring or discouraging this basic act is akin to anathema.

Indie bhaashi

2010-07-08T20:36:00.001-07:00

Living away from where I had lived for a couple of decades has helped me realize the pros of knowing more than one language. Part of the reason why I have felt less alien than expected is that the locals here speak the same language that I have been taught for more than a decade. Migrating to a country that speaks a different language can be hard for some and enjoyable for others. An interesting incident that comes to my mind is that of an Indian friend in Germany being forced to shadow an 'Indian-looking' family so that he could get to the nearest Indian store. 'I will make do without learning German till as long as I possibly can!', he remarked. Six months later, he has found his way to a German class. Seems like all Indian-looking families in this guy's town have sorted him out!

In India, there is a new language every few hundreds of square kilometres or less and each language has its fair share of dialects. Indian cities bear witness to a massive confluence of languages, and this brings along a vibrant mix of cultures, festivals and tradition. Be it jumpy Punjabi or melodious Malayalam, every language has an earthy ring to it. Probably the best way to learn a language is to spend some time in the host state, or mix with people from that state in your city. I can say this from first hand experience of experiencing the city of joy and its language sitting miles away in New Delhi. Knowing a little bit of a language can also help a great deal when you visit the host state. Try cracking an expression in the local language - its the best way to endear yourself to the locals.

The cities of India make for an interesting experience, often forgotten in the mad race of living to earn a living and nothing else.

The week that was

2010-06-20T10:32:00.000-07:00

No. Don't expect any drama here. No life-changing incidents, no close escapes, no spine chilling ghost stories, nothing. I was sitting idle for a bit and thought of sharing my boredom with you. What better way than writing about something totally ordinary, such as the week that just went by.

Monday to Friday, nine to five, is convenient and sweet. I come to my desk, usually a minute late, to friendly taunts by lab mates about that extra minute. I pretend to do some work. Coffee break, Lunch break, another coffee break... Then I finally get down to work,. Making columns, coming close to breaking them, loading samples, etc and by the time I am done, its five and I am off. Oh yeah, how could I miss soccer. That's what keeps me going through the chores these days. And what a World cup this is turning out to be. Spain, France and Germany beaten by less-fancied teams. Italy held by the dodos.. er, the Kiwis, rather. I would love to see Brazil beaten by Ivory Coast, that's starting in an hour. The jabulanis and vuvuzelas seem more exciting than England's soccer skills. No, wait! Their goalies pump it up for the spectators. Word is out that the most defensive of teams get excited on seeing an Englishman in front of the goal. 'Shoot, and they shall help you score', they say.

That aside, Madison is pretty as a picture these days. It rains intermittently, but the sun comes out shining every day. People complain that its too warm. I tell them to take a trip to New Delhi to understand what hot summers mean.

Socca

2010-06-17T15:19:00.000-07:00

The big guns fall, fans are appalled
darkness seems all around
But fear not, for a single shot
on target will do you proud.

Public memory is but that of a child
with so much doing the rounds
Yesterday doesn't exist, today's fleeting
Tomorrow is all that counts.

An oily soup

2010-06-10T14:55:00.000-07:00

I took a Genomics class in spring that consisted of lectures by an enthusiastic professor and a presentation by each of the 20 odd students who took the course. One of the presentations was based on Asian carp infestation of freshwater lakes across the United States. After the presenter finished speaking, we brainstormed on ways to tackle this issue. This particular problem began when catfish farmers in the U.S.A. imported Asian carp decades ago to eat up algae in their ponds. Little did they know of the fish’s alarming capacity to breed and infest new water bodies. Today, this nuisance has assumed such alarming proportions that the White House needs to sit and debate on possible solutions. A mild-mannered classmate commented that such problems arise only when we try to meddle with nature’s ways of working, to which a few people replied that human interference wasn’t a bad thing in itself. It had to be monitored rationally and any challenges should be dealt scientifically.

As I checked out nationalgeographic.com this evening, I could not help but reflect on that discussion. If the previous issue was about encroachment, this one is just the opposite. The pictures screamed of an ecosystem being uprooted. Pelicans with oil dripping off their wings, hermit crabs struggling their way through the slick, dead fish floating amidst swathes of oil, a laughing gull not laughing any more surely – these are only a handful of millions of species being put to sleep as we breathe. Repositories of endangered and extinct species will have to be rewritten all over. The birds also ingest some of the oil in attempting to get it off their feathers and wings, which could prove fatal. Rehab personnel would rather have them die than suffer a painful recuperation. So much so for our quest to drill out every bit of earth’s resources before anyone else can get their hands on them.

I am eager to see how human intervention can provide a satisfactory solution to this challenge. Forget removing the oil, the hole that is spitting out oil has still not been closed. For all our technical acumen, scientific capabilities, Nobel prizes, etc we have spent 50 days with no clue as to how we shall separate oil from water.

Home away from home

2010-06-03T16:11:00.000-07:00

It struck me as I was sipping tea yesterday evening. And to think of it, I had remained oblivious of it until recently, maybe taking it for granted. For a shade less than a year, I have been working in the US and living in little India! That’s what my apartment building is – little India. Yeah, it is true that almost half of the apartments in my building have desi tenants but there is more to it. Living in Oak tree means that, apart from being able to walk into friends’ homes (something that a lot of my Oxbridge migrating brethren miss after College) and meeting over impromptu potlucks, I end up eating and cooking with four roomies, cleaning up the living room on weekends, playing pranks and getting to know a whole lot of people who are walking similar paths. I can also walk to work, another aspect of small-town-India that I have adored (quite interestingly, I could not do that for the majority of my schooling in India, having grown up in a burgeoning metropolis teeming with honking buses and busy roads). By no means could my accommodation be termed luxurious. In fact, modest is the word according to me, and I will not be surprised if a lot of people here find it too small for their ‘stuff’. With little ‘stuff’ to stash away, this apartment has worked quite well. I guess this happy marriage between work and home has been a success so far, and is the sole reason for me not being terribly homesick.

I suspect this thought dawned upon me after I had to spend a week away from home for a conference. For more than two decades, I had known my home as where my family is. Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that changing. But the feeling of homecoming I got as we drove home from the Dane County Airport was proof enough that I had already accepted this to be home.

April maadhathil...

2010-05-08T17:16:00.000-07:00

Zakir Hussain and his 'Masters of Percussion' tour's final performance for the year in Cornell gave me a convenient excuse to plan a long weekend in New York a month ago.

Stopping over at Chicago for an evening is surely becoming the norm for my outings. Nishanth had to cut his sleep to only three hours the following morning so that we could say hi and bye before I took the Amtrak train to O'Hare. The take off gave me a beautiful view of downtown and how it towered over the rest of the city. Downtown Chicago is scary indeed, the avenues teem with cabs, cars and pedestrians and a chopper's view would look like ants crawling through a maze.

I walked out of New York's La Guardia airport in good time and with Anupam's perfect directions, I found myself in uptown NY in no time. The city reminds me strongly of New Delhi, with cars parked by the lanes, road-side restaurants, hawkers on footpaths, not-so-clean streets, and a multi cultural population. I almost looked around for a chai-stall next to one of the fag booths, but that was not to be! AKC, as Anupam is better known, stays and works in NY city's scientific hub. Sloan Kettering, Rockefeller and Wiel Cornell produce some much-talked-about research. in life sciences. Walking around the streets, don't be surprised to see people munching sandwiches in their lab coats on, doctors and medical interns sipping coffee with their blue gowns on.
After a quick bite of sandwiches with Anupam and Pallavi, we left for Brooklyn bridge and a sneak peak at downtown Manhattan. We got back in time for Anupam to get done with his work. A cuppa coffee at his favourite neighbourhood place later, we got our rental car and drove out of the city. The drive was one of the best I have ever had. The famous American freeways do make travelling across states a pleasure. After a couple of pit stops and some tense moments (with AKC being hilariously tense and generous in 4-letter words on occasions!) we got to the Ithacan Hogwarts in good time.

The next morning was bright and sunny and with Rachna and Pallavi, I had a traditional American breakfast of sandwiches, eggs and coffee. Cornell is blessed with beautiful scenery, immaculately manicured lawns, towering Roman architecture, breathtaking gorges, ravines and waterfalls - all at a stone's throw from students' residences. The Buttermilk falls provide a perfect picnic spot for kids and adults alike. The numerous trails wrap the falls lazily and one gets ample walking time and space.

A short visit to Ithaca Falls and a quick bite of papdi chat later, we drove to the concert venue, which was teeming with music lovers well before start.

The show began with Taufiq Qureshi demonstrating the most natural of rhythms - the breath. Ust. Sabir Khan, son of the legendary Ust. Sultan Khan, wove his magic on the sarangi before the maestro appeared and began captivating the audience with his beats. The violinist brothers Ganesh and Kumaresh provided an ideal balance to the percussion, which was further supplemented by imacculate performances on the pakhavaj, dholak and traditional drums from rural Bengal.

Classical ragas fused with Beethoven, birthday wishes were passed on to musical greats like Ust. Allah Rakha, the drums simulated a quarrel between a husband and a wife and the show ended to thunderous applause. After a lazy dinner of rotis and aaloo dum, I was surprised with a cake (two actually, one splattered all over my face) and gifts for my birthday that was just three days away. The night wasn't over and we drove out well past midnight to visit another waterfall and lake Cayuga.

The drive back to NY city was pleasant and musical, with Silk route capturing our minds. We got into the city after quite a wait and I experienced the my first traffic jam in this country! Sipping coffee with AKC right next to the runway in La Guardia, I remember feeling satisfied with everything over the last three days. Meeting up with friends is one of the best things that could happen, more so over long drives and awesome music. NY to O'Hare to Madison was routine and I walked in to a sleepy home in the wee hours of Monday, happy and ready to get back to work.

Much has happened at work and home since, and I hope to go over that in my next post.

Ghoos gaatha - a shameful trilogy

2010-03-25T19:04:00.000-07:00

My first encounter with 'ghoos' (hindi for bribe) happened way back in 2002 when my elder brother applied for a passport so that he could pursue higher studies abroad. The two cops who came on behalf of civil vigilance authorities spent an hour talking about random things with my simpleton parents before laying out the inevitable. My parents always expected it to come up, but the figure of eight thousand rupees that was demanded was shocking for those days, indeed, as for today. The apparent reason for the 'hike' in the 'charges for their services' being that my brother had claimed that he was a resident of Uttar Pradesh, where our house was, while he stayed in his institute's hostel in New Delhi (a mere hour's drive from home). My parents, both innocent souls who have worked through their lives with nothing but sincerity and truthfulness, had no clue about how to respond.

To cut a long story short, a street smart detective uncle intervened and we had the same cop calling us and chiding us for taking things 'too seriously'.

Five years hence, yours truly decided it was good time to get his passport. It was different this time, in that I was determined not to give a single paisa to the saamp or bichchu (snake or scorpion - local slang for the cheap, corrupt cop on the streets) or whoever comes to verify my identity. Luckily, my father was away when the cop graced my home. He must have deemed it unfit to ask money from my mother and wanted my dad to call him up. He also made some petty excuse about my application missing a photograph, which was a blatant lie. Anyway, the apparently missing photo was duly handed over to him as I trekked to the nearby police thana (station). His searching eyes found nothing green in my hands, so he remarked 'Aur kuchch nahin hai kya? (Don't you have anything more than this?'. I shook my head firmly, with a slight smile inside as I walked back. For some reason, I was more happy about not shelling out a single extra rupee rather than anxious about whether I would get my passport or not. Two months later, the Right to Information Act kicked in and my passport came home, without a single paisa of ghoos. What was most hilarious was the postman asking for money, because someone in the family would go abroad and bring back millions of rupees!

Completing the trilogy of the ghoos gaatha (tales of bribes), my parents had to go through the same ordeal a couple of weeks ago. They staunchly refused to pay any so-called 'service charges'. A couple of months will reveal whether they get their passports or not. What was most heart wrenching was to hear how a cop remarked, while accepting bribe from another passport applicant, 'Ab toh Gandhiji aa gaye hai naa, sab kaam ho jaayega. (Now that Gandhiji has arrived, all work will be done)'.

Public apathy has proven to be a blood sucker for our country. Amongst all talk of India shining into the twenty first century as the next global power, let the current generation of India's human resources work to drive the ghoos menace out of our lives.

On choices and delusions

2010-03-24T21:00:00.000-07:00

Paper or plastic?
for here or to go?
skimmed or two percent?
Italian bread or wheat?
mozarella or provolone?
bad or worse?

Choosing from within a single category makes us blind and delusive. One gets a false sense of power, freedom and even feels special. The walls are invisible and the doors are few and out of reach. Select from a hundred flavours of ice cream, tens of crackers, cookies, chips and what-nots. Spend all your time in the supermarket, bookstore, restaurants or best - at home in front of the t.v. watching different groups of people try to push a ball into a hoop or whack it out of a park every other weekend.

It works for a host of people because then we forget to spend time looking at the choices that matter: who controls what we see, hear, get, etc. Who owns the banks, who decides the law makers, the world leaders, forms of governance, tax policies. As these issues get sidelined, the true quality of life declines. But it is a slow death, making it easy to overlook. The few people who care to pay attention need to be appreciated.

To haircut or not to haircut?

2010-03-23T22:06:00.000-07:00

This is more in the past tense and , indeed, it did become quite tense over the last few weeks. what started with an idea to cut cutting costs soon became an apprehension of how things would be post the dreaded haircut. The initial target of five months kept getting pushed. Raised eyebrows, gentle comments, witty jibes didn't mean a thing. It wasn't until my prof. remarked, 'I like the Einstein hair!', that I realized that the time had come for the scissors to go snip-snap (no scissors here, though, it turned out to be mainly the electric thing that worked on my head). And here I am, looking like Dexter to one, 'civil' to another. The barber, a rather affable character, guessed it must have been my first visit in four months. I laughed the enigmatic laugh that everyone should , in order to avoid embarassment. Madison's hard water gave me many a sleepless night last fall and the four mentioned previously was a gross understatement. 'Your friends might not recognize you tomorrow!', he guffawed. That remains to be seen, in a few hours. However, I am not too keen on a wager against that. It feels a lot lighter on the head, the bike helmet suddenly seemed a lot bigger and I cut down my time in the shower by a good five minutes.

Short hair is good. Period.

Chem. Graduate recruitment week @ UW Madison

2010-03-14T13:24:00.000-07:00

Having been assigned the job of hosting a prospective student for my department's graduate program, I found myself holding a placard at the Dane County airport. With other grad (graduate) students and professors in tow, I was waiting for my guest student. As people started streaming out of the arrival gates, we rose in anticipation. Inadvertently, many of us started looking for a smile here, a wave there. We also began to guess if a certain person looked like a prospective grad student or not.

A few things made life easy for us hosts. Look for someone will a medium sized bag and possibly another backpack. We could remove a lot of people out of the equation this way. Next would be the age, early to late 20s is what we were looking for, although we knew this could lead us down many a false trails. Things started getting difficult beyond that. Specs for some, a serious, anxious look on some faces, a wide smile on others, a huge wave from a few, an assured walk and firm shake of hands... these did the trick.

Observations

Not all budding chemists look nerdy / intellectual. Far from it, I met this guy who walked up to a prof in a flowery, beach tee and shorts, with sunglasses, a flowing beard and long hair, a small backpack and the most casual walk I have seen in ages; like he was flying in fro, Hawaii! 'Not quite like what you would expect, right?', he exclaimed tongue-in-cheek to the Prof, who was his usual nice self in laughing it away spiritedly. Most guests to a prospective grad school are jittery, nervous and curious. It is best if grad students welcome them and show them around the place before they get to meet the faculty. They tend to feel more at home with fellow students who have been in a similar position earlier and that helps them ease into the things to follow. It is also a good idea to have an extended interaction session between guest and host students where guests could ask questions that why might not mouth with profs around. Having said that, it is crucial that professors speak to as many prospective students as possible. It gives the guests a feeling of being important and needed in the school. I know of schools and departments within my school where the profs simply don't care. This leaves a sense of insignificance in the minds of the visiting student and its highly likely that he or she would rather go to another school.

A lengthy session of talks after talks can be subjugated by one where each student can pick and choose the groups he or she wants to interact with. Meetings involving a bunch of students (around 5) and a research group work best because each student gets a fair idea of the group's profile and is given individual attention for queries. Posters do help in getting initiated into the group's affairs but don't go far beyond putting up beautiful pictures and photos.

A grand dinner to round it up is always welcome and much enjoyed. More so if it is in as beautiful a setting as Monona Terrace, Madison.

Another reminder from our politicos

2010-03-11T17:29:00.000-08:00

The last week saw Indian polity taking yet another plunge into its darkest pothole, made increasingly deeper with each ugly incident over the past few decades. Far from acknowledging their uncouth and shameful conduct, the suspended Rajya Sabha members protested outside the Parliament, much like kids do when rapped on the knuckles for not behaving properly. The adjoining photo shows a gross misuse of Gandhi's statue. It also illustrates the extent to which our politicians have fallen over the years. The common man / woman has come to accept unruly politicians as a given. With all this talk of a young, vibrant India doing the rounds, I feel it is time we youths sat up, took notice and acted on such stark reminders of our nation's current state of advanced decay.

Let the mild, respectful conduct not be limited only to placed of worship, learning and our homes. Let our generation be led by committed, genuine leaders to its rightful glorious future.

Field Hockey World Cup, New Delhi'10 - Post 2

2010-03-06T09:06:00.000-08:00

We are deep into the Hockey World Cup, standing at the doorstep of the knockout stage. As expected, the Asian teams, barring Korea, have underperformed; being beaten by lesser rated teams that managed to perform cohesively. The home team has been humbled in its previous two matches by Australia and Spain, two teams that it used to match stick for stick a decade ago. As this blog is being written, it plays England, for pride and happy memories.

From the looks, the round robin stage seems to have done justice to itself by sifting through the teams, giving a pool of teams that go into the next stage with almost equal honours. Individual brilliance has been unable to leave its mark so far, with the indomitable Pakistani drag flicker Sohail Abbas conceding that his team and himself did not perform well enough to make a difference. While Korea and Australia relied on their fast paced game and spontaneous counter attacks, teams like England have set up their goals beautifully.

The venue has lived up to its hype and the game's demands. It also seems like the tourney is a hit among the locals, which is a good sign for the game in a country forever crazy about the other gentleman's game.

An unfair world

2010-02-28T20:44:00.001-08:00

Somewhere, at this very moment, people are recovering from earthquakes. Searching for missing friends and family, mustering enough courage to live long enough to see the sun rise again, picking up the broken pieces of their lives and moving on. A dream gone awry, a smile snuffed out, a tear too many...

Back home, a nation celebrates one of its million festivals. People eat sweets, apply colour on each other, make merry. Four goals mean life and death for some, momentary happiness for many. Elsewhere, two nations drink till they can drink no more as their hockey teams skate to gold and silver. Jokes are cracked over movies, chips and banana bread, completely oblivious of what's happening to our fellow brothers and sisters in another part of the glopbe. A vision too shallow, a wish too small...

An unfair world, or so it seems...

Field Hockey World Cup, New Delhi'10 - Post 1

2010-02-28T08:10:00.000-08:00

The Hockey World Cup is here! New Delhi seems to have come up with a state of the art hockey field, replete with dug outs, swanky lcd displays, comfortable seating and a slick playing turf. A recent Bollywood movie that glorified the sport and the said stadium is still fresh in memory, although it is said that one needs a movie to popularise any sport. Having said that, any new lease of life to field hockey in India is welcome, keeping in mind the abyss into which our sport has plunged over the last couple of decades. Failing to qualify for the Olympics in 2008 was the final nail in the coffin. Indian hockey has suffered from poor administration and press coverage and it must take a cue from its cricketing counterparts. I still don't understand why or how the cricketing fever caught the minds and hearts of the blue billion. But I shall leave that for another post.

As I write, Spain has been pressurized and made to overwork by minnows South Africa. The Olympic silver medalists finally huffed and puffed their way to a 4 -2 win. The much-touted Aussies were shocked by arch rivals England in what is arguable the second best rivalry in any sport across the planet. Completing the dream opening day of this year's World Cup, India and Pakistan are scooping it out with the former enjoying a 3 - 0 lead with 16 minutes to go for the hooter. Pakistan have, undoubtedly, had the final laugh in field hockey, including a recent 6 -3 drubbing in Salta, Argentina. With some legendary players like Rehan Butt, Dilawar Hussain and the trump card Sohail Abbas, they definitely look the better team on paper. India, on the other hand, seems to be a motley group of proven performers and bright youngsters, though the lack of dazzling talents like a Dhanraj Pillay or a Jugraj Singh is too evident to miss. It also has a remarkable tendency to choke in the dying minutes of any game and give away the lead. The next fifteen minutes would tell.

Thousands of miles away, another keen tussle is on cards this evening. The USA plays Canada to decide who takes the gold and comes up on top in a cross border tussle for supremacy in the final of the Winter Olympics Ice Hockey.

And the two hours break means that I can also write about India's 'Holi' 4-1 win. Hmm... the people are quiet, at least for now.

2010-02-24T06:57:00.000-08:00

I got this in a forward and couldn't resist uploading it here. This piece conveys exactly what I am starting to realise.

Free thoughts

2010-02-20T21:59:00.000-08:00

'No one likes bondage, everyone wants to be free', says a freedom fighter in a documentary I just finished watching.

'You are already free. Know it and you will experience it automatically', says a spiritual guru to millions across the globe who want to be free.

'A ruler can rule you only if you agree to obey him / her. Stop obeying the rule(r) and you have vanquished him of his position', says an insightful friend.

Born free, getting rid of the shackles, looking into a free tomorrow.

Musings

2010-02-16T21:00:00.001-08:00

Coffee sippers being shot in India, a desperate professor refusing to believe what she had just done in a US university and a brilliant sportsman crashing to the heavens in Canada.

And here I am, sitting in the comfortable confines of my lab, rattling away on the keyboard. A few hours ago, I was hogging away on a sumptuous dinner. When the first incident mentioned above was unveiling itself, I was wading into my dreams, as the tenure-terror struck Huntsville, I was pretending to learn Genomics and as the luge guy crashed his fate, I was probably counting myself lucky, as I often do, for being where I was. With no clue of what's happening on the other side of the planet, the adjacent country, why... the very next door.

The 10'ers - A first look

2010-02-13T12:09:00.000-08:00

This is one of the rare inside scoops about the 10'ers, a motley gang of individuals destined to each others' company for a couple of years between 2009 and 2011.

First up is the kid. Haphazard sleep cycles, an over-aggressive boss and an unending tendency to goof up adds to a rather happening lifestyle. From dozing off with his laptop on the couch to his Finland tales (that are thankfully in danger of extinction) and his views about almost every topic that you can come up with, the man has done it all. As of now, he is looking to keep his boss, and therefore himself, happy.

Next in line is the cool dude. He manages everything that he takes up with a charming ease. Admin. issues like getting a license, meeting deadlines, cooking up some awesome Indian food and starting up on a belly reducing project, everything gets warmed up to completion. The guy also has an amazing ability to take short naps, without allowing them to stretch to double digit hours.

Over the last couple of paragraphs, I have been fighting hard to introduce the genius of the gang. Hormander, Tao, Russel, et. al. will soon start shivering in their seats. This is the next big thing in several complex variables (as if one wasn't enough!). His day starts with a proof and ends with another. In between, he also finds time to get high on coffee, teach undergrad mathematics, pump it up in the gym and satiate his love for Indian classical music.

The latest addition to the 10'ers is the macho guy. His is the life that most of us have seen in the movies. There is this famous story of how Amitabh Bachchan moved into Bombay and slept on the streets for a night, before making it big in the Hindi film industry. Our man is striking a few parallels miles away from home. From handing out free ice creams and spending an hour in the gym without moving a limb to finishing up every homework right in the nick of time, this guy knows how to get the job done. He also cooks some amazing Indian food, which is always welcome!

And finally, yours truly!

Here are some pics from the 10'ers, in striking poses and moods.

(The cool guy, in a moment of deep enlightenment)

(Grey cells)

(The Math Mamba)

(The cool dude)

India Quiz

2010-02-10T17:30:00.000-08:00

What was called Heptanesia by Ptolemy around A.D. 150?

Post your answers as comments. No cheating! I will post the correct answer in two days.

Hindi-'bhaashi' in Madison

2010-01-31T21:55:00.000-08:00

This post is about arguably the most interesting conversation I have had in Madison. Sriram (one of my roomies) and I went to get some Italian dinner last week. Sri heard his name being called out, pronounced as perfectly as it could be, and got a 'Dhanyavaad' (hindi for 'thank you') as he picked up his food from the counter. He came back, understandable amused. We thought Slumdog Millionare was having its effect and the guy must have caught it from some Indian friend. We soon became engrossed in the meal and it gobbled it up within minutes. As we lined up to deposite the plates, the same guy was cleaning up and offered to take our empty dishes. The same 'dhanyavaad' followed with a smile. But I was not quite prepared for what followed. Here is the ensuing conversation (with English translations in parantheses).

The guy: Pichle saal Banaras mein pad rahaa thaa. (Was studying in Banaras last year)

Me (amused and bewildered!): Achchaa! Kya pad rahe they? (Oh yeah! What were you studying?)

The guy (after a one second pause): Zindagi (Life) (can you imagine anyone saying that, that too in a hip Italian restaurant on the busiest street of Madison in another language!)

Me: Wah wah! (Nice!)

The guy (smiles): Rajniti ke baare mein pad rahaa tha. Das maheene rahaa Banaras mein. (Was studying politics. Stayed in Banaras for ten months.)

Me: Achchaa laga? (Liked it?)

The guy: Haan haan, bahut achchaa lagaa. Aur ab idhar University mein Hindi ki padhai jaari hai. Mere adhyaapak kaa naam hai .... Thoda thoda likhna, padhna aur bolna aata hai. (Yeah yeah, I loved it. And I am continuing Hindi studies in the University here. My teacher's name is .... I know to write, read and speak a little bit)

Me: Great man.. Aapse milke bahut khushi hui. (It was great to meet you.)

The guy: Mujhe bhi. Aapka naam? (Me too. What's your name?)
Mujhe bhi. Aapka naam
Me: Rangarajan (He got it on the second count, which is pretty good. Most of my friends from up North India had a tough first few times with my name) Aur aapka? (And yours?)

The guy: Chris, hindi mein Kishan! (in hindi, its Kishan)

(End of conversation)

What a guy! And all this was spoken in chaste hindi, without any over stressing of the 'R's or stumbling with syllables or hastening of sentences. Come to think of it, I could count the number of times I have heard someone use the word 'adhyaapak' outside the classroom in India.

Answer to the Mark Twain quiz

2010-01-26T04:52:00.000-08:00

It is the Indian crow that he refers to (read the previous post).

Mark Twain Quiz

2010-01-22T16:30:00.000-08:00

Here is an excerpt from Mark Twain's account of his early days in Bombay, sometime in 1895. You need to guess who he is referring to.

'He has been reincarnated more times than Shiva; and he has kept a sample of each incarnation, and fused it into his constitution. In the course of his evolutionary promotions, his sublime march toward ultimate perfection, he has been a gambler, a low comedian, a dissolute priest, a fussy woman, a blackguard, a scoffer, a liar, a thief, a spy, an informer, a trading politician, a swindler, a professional hypocrite, a patriot for cash, a reformer, a lecturer, a lawyer, a conspirator, a rebel, a royalist, a democrat, a practicer and propagator of irreverence, a meddler, an intruder, a busybody, an infidel, and a wallower in sin for the mere love of it. The strange result, the incredible result, of this patient accumulation of all damnable traits is, that he does not know what care is, he does not know what sorrow is, he does not know what remorse is; his life is one long thundering ecstasy of happiness, and he will go to his death untroubled, knowing that he will soon turn up again as an author or something, and be even more intolerably capable and comfortable than ever he was before'.

Awesome Saturday Part II

2010-01-10T18:59:00.000-08:00

'3 Idiots' has been making waves back home. And having just finished a couple of years in a place that made me feel like an idiot more often than not, I could relate to the idea a lot. Also, this was going to be my first desi movie in ages. With such awesome friends to boot, a great afternoon was in store.

I liked the movie for the scene following the examination, the crazy bathroom dance sequence, the beautiful locales of Leh and Laddakh (I still suspect some of the scence were shot outside India, but I am pretty sure I am wrong, the hills of India are a treat to the eyes) and for some well timed humour. However, I was expecting a classic Raju Hirani comic product but came out a tad disappointed. The movie was light hearted and did make for a nice outing. But it was too predictable, some jokes were stale, and the ending was just out of the Great Cook Book of Bollywood. As our post-movie dissection concluded, we also agreed that a lot of issues, deeds and attitudes were projected unrealistically. I can't see how a totally vella dude can top all the exams. I was vella yes.. and no, I never topped the exams (far from it, ahem! ... but that's got be another story). Nice one overall, but I still can't understand the super duper hit status that it has been awarded back home.

The icing on my awesome Saturday was the potluck following the movie. Masala dosa, Sambhar, dal, rotis, cake and gooseberry pie, with ice cream made for a mouthwatering feast. Strangers became friends over food and by the end of countless rounds of mafia, everyone seemed to have known everyone else for ages.

The desi gang in Oak tree is getting closer with each bite!

Lunching out

2010-01-09T17:03:00.001-08:00

Any other Saturday would have meant a few extra hours of sleep, a hassle-free morning, a long nap after a sumptuous lunch and the day zipping by. But today was different. The morning flowed in a rhythm, and as the sun shone brightly, things looked cheerful. I guess it was, apart from other things, the fruits and milk breakfast that did it. Too many days of cereal probably warranted a change.

However, I suspect it was more so because of what lay ahead. A lunch with my friends Amanda, Rajeev bhaiya, Aswini, Sharanya and Vivek. We meet at least once a week and to get together and breathe! But today, we decided to take our tummies out for some exercise at Swagat, an Indian restaurant in Madison (Swagat is Hindi for Welcome).

Indian buffets in Madison are pretty much the same regardless of the restaurant. Starters include moong dal and rasam as soups! Snacks include dahi vada, samosa, bhel puri, cutlets etc. Typical veggie dishes are bhindi masala, dum aalo, chhole; while the carnivores can hog on fish fry, chicken tikka masala, etc. All this with plain rice, veg. and chicken biryani, naan, bhature and masala dosa as breads. Desserts have also become mundane with rasgulla, mango ice cream, caramel custard, rasmalai and semiya payasam. And, I forgot to add mango lassi, which also seems to be a big hit here (I have never had mango lassi in India).

All this made for a stuffed tummy, a series of yawns and a sound sleep for the rest of the day! But we had other plans for the post-lunch session, which I shall write about tomorow.

Cat in the basket

2010-01-08T15:46:00.001-08:00

I have known this story for quite some time, but my brother put it the way it is in the title in an email, and I thought I should post it here.

This is one of the ways by which a practise becomes a belief and eventually a superstition.

Many moons ago, a pious, God-fearing family lived in India. They used to perform a pooja (Hindi for prayer) every morning so as to appease the Gods. Lamps were lit, songs sung and delicacies offered The offerings consisted of fruits, sweets and a glass of milk (for some strange reason, every God eats and drinks sumptuously!). Only after the pooja was over would the family eat its first morsel for the day.

The house also had a pet cat. Being apparently less devotional, the cat would sneak up to the pooja and lick a few drops of milk from the container. Once this was discovered, the family used to keep the cat covered with a basket, so that it did not interfere in the prayers.

Years passed, the cat ran away, the kids became young men and women, the parents grew old and died, but the prayers continued. Now, the kids had always known that 'a cat was kept covered under a basket' during the pooja. So, every time a pooja was scheduled they would go to the pet shop, rent out a cat for a day, bring it home, cover it with a basket and then start their pooja. The cat in the basket became an inseparable component of the pooja. No cat in the basket? Whaaaat! The Gods are gonna get angry... so went the notion.

And thus, a reasonable practise became a superstition.

Hilarious videos

2010-01-07T20:37:00.000-08:00

A friend showed me these two videos and I can't stop laughing whenever I think about them. Watch them NOW!

Video 1

Video 2

Whatever

2010-01-04T15:33:00.001-08:00

It is the most disgusting word I have heard, that too on umpteen occasions like formal meetings, seminars, interviews and scientific presentations. The context 'whatever' can be used in ranges from demeaning and dismissive to utter indifference and ignorance. Professors on interview panels get irritated when a student finished up an answer by a dragged 'whatever...'. Rather amusingly, many senior researchers also join the party while in discussion with colleagues from other areas of interest. Admittedly, it makes for a nice cover up job.

however, it is an instant turn-off to the knowledge-seeker, and I always get the feeling that the speaker is either clueless or completely disinterested in what he / she is saying. It would be so much better if ignorance is accepted and help sought.

The Great New Year

2010-01-01T08:52:00.001-08:00

'Its New Year.. Yay! Lets dance and sing and drink and make merry, 'coz the last two digits on the date are gonna change for the next 365 dates, and then we shall celebrate again!'

My roomie Sriram suspects this New year business, like many other celebrations, is a mere marketing policy. You spend, I spend, everybody spends... on things ranging from food and dresses to flight tickets, phone calls, et al.

Won't things be much better if one could take a vacation as per individual desires?

The Aussies welcomed the New year by dumping tons of poison into the planet and their leader calls is 'an environment-friendly celebration'. Right! And we Indians need not feel so happy, having converted a festival of lights to one of sound, smoke and accidents.

Looking back, I guess my greatest new year eve was in high school when students from all across the country gathered in Bangalore to discuss the importance of values in our education system. I remember we entered the millenium singing songs and meditating. It was surreal... and a far cry from the madness in NY, Sydney, and the like.

Light humour

2009-12-26T07:25:00.000-08:00

Got to hear this in the middle of a class on optics in spectroscopy:

Question: 'So, what's new?'

Answer: 'c / lambda'

Incarnating ideas Addendum

2009-12-24T09:01:00.000-08:00

My friend Kaustubh Mote observes that the audience completely lost the message of 'Avatar' in the jungles and images of Pandora. He hints at a few parallels between the reel and real worlds that, I feel, are worth pondering over.

One of the main issues addressed by Avatar is that of destruction of nature as we see it. The ethics behind infiltrating into other species' ecological territories are explored from the different viewpoints of the biologist and the army general. The search for Unobtainium in Pandora has striking similarities to that for oil in the Gulf and Iraq. Large scale deployment of men and women, arms and ammunition; an initial appeasment policy followed by a rap on the knuckles and a bloody war to make the avatars stand in line and behave... haven't we seen glimpses of all this over that last decade or so?

Such sensitive issues seem to have disappeared in the complex, mind-blowing visual and 3-D effects. Talk of the snake biting the charmer!

Thanks Mote, this post is entirely due to you.

Science

2009-12-22T15:18:00.000-08:00

'Appreciate science for what it is', says Dr. Venki Ramakrishnan, one of the Nobel laureates in Chemistry for the year 2009. Touring southern India for the first time after being awarded the Nobel, he muses rather amusingly on the nearly twenty-fold increase in the audience strength for his lecture after a group of Europeans decided to burden him with extra responsibilities outside his domain. He also stresses on the idea of science being a journey rather than a destination. In his words, 'You can't go into science thinking of a Nobel Prize'.

Without daring to make any comparisons whatsoever, a similar thought was echoed not too long ago by my roomie, Sriram. According to him, people in India (and that includes students of science) have a very blurry vision of what science is about. Most think more scientific research would lead to more applications, and a general alleviation of standard of living. In fact, this is but one aspect of science. A lot of science has got to do with the very pursuit of science, which can be understood only by experience. My teacher in New Delhi puts it simply, 'Science is not a spectator sport. To know it, you have to get in and get your hands dirty'.

To this day, science remains a niche enterprise, with a whopping majority of the world completely unaware of what it means.

Incarnating ideas

2009-12-21T18:05:00.000-08:00

What you see is what you believe, or does it go the other way? The netbook on my lap is there, but only because I think it is there. Would it disappear if I refuse to believe in its existence? Or would that amount to running away from the truth? In a world experiencing a tumultous knowledge revolution, the very meaning of reality seems to be changing every single minute. So much so that virtual reality games are selling like hot cakes.

Avatar provided the latest unreal experience to me. Sitting on the same seat, yet feeling like I was transported to another planet, this was one grand celebration of visual imagery and technological excellence. Come to think of it, the plot is a rather simple one: guy meets girl, they fall in love, villain wants to ruin their world, guy becomes hero, saves his girl and a small part of her world, and they live happily ever after. You don't need a James Cameroon for this, do you? Our famed Indian film industry must be dishing out tens of releases with such storylines every Friday. What sets this movie apart is the unabashed use of imaginations, colour and special effects to create a virtual world that the onlooker loves and lives in for the couple of hours that the movie lasts for.

The 3-D effects leave their mark right from the first shot. Be it the flutter of a butterfly, the buzz of a bee, the drone of the choppers, or the jaw-dropping fights between the monsters of Pandora and the protagonist, Avatar is a treat to the graphics junkie, the movie buff and the curious biologist - and am pretty sure Mr. Cameroon must be singing his way to the bank already.

From the trees of Pandora to the streets of Bombay, movies have come to be one of the strongest means of affecting opinions and actions across the globe. In my brief stay outside India till date, there have been numerous occasions when I have been quizzed on the authenticity of Slumdog Millionare. That one movie seems to have brought India closer to the world than anything else I can think of.

At the end of the day, a movie remains the manifestation of but one person's vision (or lack of it!). It is the power of cinema that magnifies this vision and brings it into the minds of millions across the planet, influencing ideas and ideals.

Snowy day - Dec. 9 '09

2009-12-09T08:29:00.000-08:00

It has been a day of quite a few firsts here in Madison.

The first snow storm of winter'09.

The first time in twenty years that the University has closed down due to the storm. (Madison is known to work relentlessly come what may, and it is common to see people reporting to work in spite of minor illnesses like fever, flu, etc)

My first step into a foot and a half of snow, my first snowball fight!

The first online class I attended. This was for a homework discussion that happened on an e-forum this morning. Though incoherent on a few occasions it was interesting and we managed to gloss over our work alright.

Do check out the photos to get an idea of what Madison and I look like today!

D. C.

2009-12-06T08:23:00.000-08:00

A long weekend close to Thanksgiving celebrations meant I could fly out of Madison to Washington D C to meet my sister Vedha, Arun and little Rishi (my nephew). Stopping over at Ashish's place for a night was also good fun - catching up about school days and how he used to spread all kinds of rumours about me, speaking to school friends and eating awesome food.

The sub urban city of Leesburg, where Vedha stays, is just off D. C., inside the state of Virginia. It gives a small town feeling, with large open spaces, sloping roads and beautiful houses, like her's. After a sumptuous Thanksgiving lunch, I had a short nap, only to wake up to Rishi's puzzled looks about why I was the only guest refusing to leave his home. It took some convincing for him to accept me and my presence over the next three days :)

The Air and Space Museum, a part of the Smithsonians, which we visited the next day, was huge and really well managed. I particularly liked the section on the Japanese and German bombers. The facilities of guided tours, and random oral demonstrations, gave meaning to our time there. Otherwise, a visit to a museum gets reduced to a mere walk in the park.

The next morning, a short ride on the Metro took me to the heart of D C. Bright, sunny and really windy, it was a perfect day for walking around the place. Add to that my friends Pallavi, Abhilash, Abir and Rachna, who came over from their universities for that day, it sure was gonna be fun. Our first stop was the Holocaust museum. Three expansive floors dissected every detail of events like Hitler's rise to power, the Nazi atrocities, and the victory of the Allied powers. As is customary, every visitor is given an identity card that tells the real story of a person who lived during the Holocaust . I was Herman Klein, a Jew from Czechoslovakia who was deported to Auschwitz at the age of 16 but escaped certain death when American troops liberated a concentration camp in Dachau, Germany.

Walking through wagons used by the Nazis to hound off Jews to concentration camps, listening to audio recordings and watching videos of Jews being persecuted... all this was spine chilling. We came out of the Museum after a good three hours - some shaken, some depressed... everyone quiet. It was a gripping experience, just like I had imagined.

Our next stop was the scene of the gatecrashed dinner (so much so about security, does such a thing even exist today?)- the White House. The house was being prepared for World AIDS day, while the area right in front of the House was buzzing with anti-war, anti-racism demonstrations, tourists, cameras and the press. To get a decent look into the monuments around DC, you better put on your walking shoes. Parking is expensive and hard to find, and the monuments seem close but are actually quite a walk away from each other.

The Washington Monument, built in memory of the country's first President, George Washington, towers over every other structure in the vicinity. It also gives a scenic view of the Lincoln Memorial, the Capitol Building and the White House. Our final stop was the Museum of American History, where we managed to hover over the 'Science in America' section in an hour. Walking through the beginning of chemistry research in the United States of America (at Johns Hopkins) all the way through the Manhattan Project up to the current thrust on DNA sequencing, this section did a neat job of presenting science to the layman. I also came across a few witty quotes (see attached images). Each Museum is a world in its own and one can spend a whole month by just visiting the Smithsonians.

A nice dinner at American Flatbread, with pizzas baked in a brick-oven, and using organic ingredients, wrapped the DC visit. I flew back to Chicago next morning and got back to a cold, rainy Madison by evening.

The past week, like most other weeks, has zipped past. I am already staring at a couple of exams and the end of this first semester in graduate school. Phew.... time does fly!

Ice skating

2009-11-14T12:34:00.000-08:00

In the third of four class gatherings that are scheduled for the current semester, we decided to try out ice skating yesterday. 'The Shell' is one of the three main recreational facilities at the University, and houses the only ice rink on campus. I was hoping my experience with a pair of rickety old skates (that had four rubber wheels each) would come in handy here. With Ross' and Emma's reassuring presence, and fellow novice Amber for company, I pretended all positive and gung-ho about the evening.

After a wild goose chase for the rink, and some contradicting directions, we got to the place, which is but a short walk from the department. Somehow, I managed to put on my skates and walk to the rink. After ensuring that my skates were tied tightly, I was off. Not in a flash, though. The initial few steps were scary and I could foresee myself sprawled on all fours pretty soon. The first round was completed with the wall as my companion. But by the end of the third, I felt expert enough to get away from it.

The kids here skate like pros. I have a hunch that every newborn wears skates before crying, shortly after birth. And by the time I would near my finish line, the whistle would sound and everyone would turn around. Hmph! So near, yet...

All in all, a great experience. Wisconsin seems to be a popular destination for winter sports and I just took my first step yesterday. Looking forward to cross-country skiing pretty soon.

Undergrads in IISc starting 2011

2009-11-08T16:16:00.000-08:00

The Indian Institute of Science (IISc) has announced that it shall start accepting undergraduates for admission to its four year Bachelor of Science program in 2011. The issue was under consideration for a couple of years until it was accepted by the committee responsible for it.

Tata Institute, as it is locally known, has always occupied a niche in higher learning in India. It caught the fancy of many European researchers when India was still a British colony and was spoken of in high regard in scientific circles. Morris Travers, the first director of the Institute, famously said," There is nothing like it in India, and nothing better in Great Britain". Over the years, the Institute has maintained its high standards of research and charted new research areas as well.

The question of introducing undergraduate learning was a quintessential one, given the possible advantages that could be enjoyed by the Institute and its students. The former would benefit from a continuous feed of science students for its Masters and Doctoral programs. The students, fortunate enough to study at IISc, would also enjoy a stimulating atmosphere surrounded by people breathing science.

Prof P Balaram, the current director of IISc, paid a visit to my Masters school - IIT Delhi, a few months ago. In his interview with CHEMCOS, the science magazine at IITD; he clearly mentions the conflicting opinions within the Institute about the idea of opening its gates for undergraduate classes.

It is interesting to hear this for a couple of reasons. One, IISc has always been a supporter of undergraduate learning in science. It offers scholarships like the Kishore Vaigyanik Protsahan Yojna (KVPY) and fellowships for summer research. Each year, hundreds of undergrads get a taste of research at the highest level and many go on to pursue careers in science. Therefore, the institute has been shaping young minds for decades. Secondly, any scientific endeavour requires a steady influx of young talent. The IISc is no exception. On many occasions, I have heard professors lamenting about the dampening of scientific enthusiasm among kinds across the planet. The best way to tackle this problem would be to start a serious undergrad program on its own campus.

One possible reason for the apprehension in IISc's approach could be the lack of qualified teachers and infrastructure. There is absolutely no doubt about the research capabilities of the Institute. However, undergraduate teaching is a completely different ball game. Most of the students have very little idea of what they have jumped into and they need proper guidance at this stage of their careers. A lot of adjustment is warranted on the part of researchers so as to address such issues. They are used to solving research problems and working with graduate stduents who are more serious about their work. Undergrads can be a differnet ball game altogether. Also, the existing infrastructure is only enough to keep the Institute up and running. An influx of undergrads would require huge investments.

The idea seems really lucrative and, on a personal note, I am eagerly looking forward to see how things shape up. I have always felt that a two year Masters program in chemistry and physics would have worked really well at IISc because the teaching and laboratory resources have for such courses are already present. If handled carefully, this program could work wonders for Indian science.

Special Post 1

2009-11-04T19:05:00.001-08:00

In Feb 2008, I attended a course organized by the Art Of Living Foundation. Writing about the course and how it has changed me will require another long post. Here, my teacher writes about a school started by his efforts in a tribal village near Benares.

Both the writer and the cause make this the first special guest post on my blog.

The Birth of a Tribal School…

The true story of Rajesh Jagasia, an Art of Living volunteer in Benares, India

Many moons ago, it was yet another broiling day at school and I went to meet a professor of mine to acquaint him with the service projects of Art of Living on campus. He was completely in agreement with the vision and asked me to accompany him to a tribal village nearby.

I acceded to the request immediately, but little did I know that I had signed a bond of love for many years to come.

We fixed a Sunday evening, now four years ago, placed ourselves into a vintage Mahindra jeep and sped past beautiful paddy fields and ancient trees.

The terrain quickly changed from plain lands to thick forests, with armed men appearing. Totally unaware of the facts and figures then, I wondered why the government would spend so much money to have so many armed men posted in the middle of the forest. Despite the beauty of nature, such as flowers, trees, villagers eyeing our jeep and children frolicking, and even the fresh air, there was something which whispered the rancidity of life.

The path had become thinner but the bushes were getting thicker. The Jeep stopped at a village called Aurwan Tand in front of a small hut I began to wonder – Does human life exist here? I was introduced to a very feeble, scrawny woman who was the head of the village. My refreshments included water, rice water and some sliced onions to quench my appetite.

Still oblivious to the purpose of my visit, I ogled the village and surroundings. I was totally unaware of what I was getting into. The village with 100 families looked so beautiful and vibrant amidst thick trees, mountains and I, like an inquisitive bird warbling away, didn’t know that love at first sight had become a reality in my life!!

The entire government seemed to be suffering from collective laryngitis and a bold initiative was required to get a small town with three different tribes cured of their chronic problems. An abject failure of policies, leadership and projects had dehydrated this tribal land.

The children wanted to be naxalites [Communist extremists with violent tendencies, a serious threat to India’s stability], with 400 operative naxalites amidst them, whose needs prevailed over people around the villages. Water was a luxury and the inhabitants existed on onions and rice for life. They wept. They waited. They survived. I sat outside the hut and could not comprehend why thousands and thousands in taxpayer money would not reach here. The reason was they were unaware of their rights, unaware of democratic strength and unaware of the power of prayer.

This small village with many more around it seriously grieved. It was wounded. It wanted a rescue.

I immediately decided to act and do something amidst the busy traveling that I was scheduled to do for months. I wrote to Sri Sri, asking for guidance. Within minutes there was a reply as short and strong as possible. He replied “Start a school there.” His words were final for me. I knew there will be a new lease of life.

With spirited encouragement and Sri Sri’s blessings, I decided to take up a dilapidated school in the premises and reopen it with a new name and committed vivacity – Sri Sri Vidya Mandir.

Integrating an education system amongst the tribal people is a challenging and humungous task, as no one is educated, nor are they connected with the outside world, to know the laser effect of schooling. The school was quietly started with prayers and intentions, initially with no funds at hand, nor any students committed to learn.

The impetus that the children had in the beginning was mid-day meals, as many suffered from malnutrition. The delicious baked rice with lentils were never eaten by the children at school, however hungry and deserted their stomachs were. Instead they took it home to share it with their parents and younger siblings, so that they also could breathe for one more day. Live for today. There were many hunger deaths in that year in the village.

The school started. These three words are so easy to write now, but there were many commas, question marks, semi-colons and sometimes exclamatory marks but never a full-stop between these three dreamy words. These days there are classes which teach how to be a mother, how to tie a diaper etc, but my experience in running a school was like being a baby looking at three twin sisters, and deciding which is his real mother. The decisions had to be quick and correct, involving the village, the children, the society and the education system.

The village was riddled with Naxalism and just meters away the government had pumped in money to the tune of 100 crores [about 22 million dollars] to fight naxalism, cutting the branches of the problem not uprooting it. By contrast, to the peaceful and nourishing words, nature attunes itself and aligns itself. It happened. I saw it happening.

With two committed teachers who decided to dedicate years of their life for this school, the school re-commissioned. The children slowly and steadily gained interest in different subjects and we affiliated it to the National Open Schooling. Small girls and boys would wake up early morning and begin their journey, their destination some 4-5 km away, but the dedication was deep and intense, their faith tremendous.

The day would start with folded hands to convey gratitude, progress into the depths of science and floated upwards with spirited enthusiasm of football and volleyball. Within months the lives of 64 children were blossoming, induced with doses of maths, geography, science and history. They wanted more, and soon there were small Dhoni’s and Bhutia’s giving brief appearances of hitting a four or a penalty corner on the mountain terrains of Aurwan Tand.

The blue school dress provided uniformity amongst the different caste systems prevalent, the prayers injected faith. The studies established information, attitude, concepts as well as love, instilled survival, care and trust. This school with no electricity or water initially, became a symbol of the power of love and service that the society gifted to Aurwan Tand. They had dreamt. Now it was a reality.

Naxalism evaporated from this village, with many joining the mainstream. The water tap came to our doorstep. The armed guards took regular breaks in the evening over chai and biscuits and there has not been a single hunger death in over 4 years. Malnutrition melted away and we now have strong men and women on their way to success. Set amidst the forests, the people of this village carry innocence, grace and humility. To reach this insignificant village, one has to travel 90 km from Benares. If you can withdraw your attention from the scenic landscape long enough to know you have arrived, you might reach this tiny place.

While every single day proved to be a challenge to the core, the pillar of prosperity has been established and the sordid saga of this village and villages adjoining it has been lifted. There are many real characters who make this sentimental series into a funny movie, in retrospect. Shruti the principal, Ramavatar and Ramlal the teachers, Pavan, Anoop, Ruchi to name a few. They were determined. They were undeterred. They were patient. Love Prevailed.

--- Excerpted from the experience of Rajesh Jagasia

Blanked out

2009-10-31T16:08:00.000-07:00

These two words do a pretty good job of describing my state before I started writing this post. I am taking a small digression from the recent trend of writing about my experiences and, instead, will attempt to uncover a few issues that I read in an article (published in a leading Indian magazine a few years ago) a few moments ago. I strongly urge you to read this article before proceeding any further, so as to understand the points made by me.

The article starts rather promisingly, describing some general notions about IITians. For the uninitiated, IIT stands for the Indian Institute of Technology, a network of Engineering and Science Schools across India that seems to have gained substantial repute for the 'quality' of students churned out each year. The article then moves on to muse on whether the IITs have served the purpose with which Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister of free India, envisioned these institutes. All seemed good and I thought I had come across a frank, sugar-free, no-holds-barred view on the ghettos of academic India.

What followed was a shocking self-contradictory diversion into a needless ego trip about how IITians are great and how everything about them is even greater. Passing an examination is equated with academic excellence, which makes me question the very meaning of learning that the honourable author seems to have committed to memory in high school. With colleagues as 'extraordinary' as the author claims he had, I am sure something went wrong later, given the nature of personalities romanticised.

There are simply too many instances to be taken apart and trashed. In fact, I am yet to catch hold of a better example of the narrow, ignorant viewpoints that I came across on multiple occasions during my student days at IIT. In the interest of space and time, I shall limit myself to a only a few more absurd statements made in the article.

IITians are proclaimed as being 'the chosen' ones. I am extremely interested in meeting the 'choosers'. Why did they choose what they chose, and what did they choose them for - tagging them away to farcicial lives, elevating them on the materialistic scale to seats of authority, voice and power (where such ludicrous articles could come from). IITians have also been said to graduate with 'tribal loyalties'. I am sure our respected tribals are better mannered, more cultured and have clearer perpectives in life. And what loyalties are being spoken about here, when cases of students littering their own campuses, cheating in examinations, and abusing faculty members are too many to be quoted.

The article concludes with shocking examples of immodesty, ignorance, pomposity and superiority complex.

It is unfortunate that such narrow minded views are expressed on a public forum. I can only hope that the IITians sharing similar views are a minority.

Gandhi quote

2009-10-29T21:11:00.000-07:00

'Be the change that you wish to see in the world' - Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi

One of his quotes that is really popular in the U.S.

Diwali dinner

2009-10-27T04:47:00.000-07:00

I haven't written in quite a while and there is lots to tell. I hope to catch up in a couple of quick posts so that I don't end up writing a history text.

Our Diwali dinner turned out pretty well. The food rocked, courtesy Sankar (who is now the hottest single male in Madison, for obvious reasons!). The chhole and biryani was delicious and the masala for the dosa also came out pretty well. Sriram decided to add a bit of his own to the raita and Vinod finished up with the dosa, alongwith some eager participation by Rohit and Nikhil. With some chips, juice and Nikhil's yummy halwa to start off (and Raja's capsicum as well) you just don't get such dinners every evening.

Add to that, meeting twenty new people over a few hours, it was good fun altogether. Most of the janta was from the BITS-computer science gang, but there were a few lesser mortals as well. The news of the lip-smacking dinner rippled through Oak tree and we had people banging on the door, pleading to be let in (well, not quite, there was one friend who took the liberty, and rightfully so, of coming in for food and gossip). Chitra, one of our next-door neighbours, crooned her way into the dinner, and to me, that was one of the highlights of the evening.

Fruits and ice cream were the perfect finish to the dinner. Photos were clicked, phone numbers exchanged and people started to leave. Once everyone was gone, we cleaned up (and in pretty good time at that! nice to have four people around) and called it a day.

None of the usual celebrations that one would have in India, no fireworks (thankfully!), no getting up early morning for an oil bath, going to each others' homes with sweets and namkeen, none of the boxes and boxes of sweets, dry fruits, no electric lights, no Diwali mela... but a simple, nice first Diwali in Madison.

Vinod's birthday

2009-10-12T22:06:00.000-07:00

Monday evening: Chole chaval, ice cream, donuts and chai (Tea in hindi) led to Vinod's twenty second birthday, his first outside India. The lead up to the day was really scary for the poor guy, he was terrorized by all of us of getting beaten to pulp. It turned out to be a bit of a whimper and he got away with just a couple of blows.

After some deliberation, we have settled for a weekend treat at a Mexican place. Before that comes Friday and Diwali dinner at home, followed by Saturday at the Indian graduate students association. About the dinner.. we started with making two columns of recipes, one that we knew to prepare and another that we wanted to eat, and sadly the two didn't meet at a single row. Having been humbled by this simple exercise, we have big plans of learning to cook some delicacies within three days.

More on that as things unfold and recipes are concocted. God bless the guinea pigs.

Nobel pursuits

2009-10-11T18:38:00.000-07:00

The big story this week has been the Nobel (and patrticularly one more than the other Nobels). 'Ill-deserved,' 'but, what did he do to get it?', 'oh! this is just a recognition of the aims rather than achievements', 'the Peace Nobel has always had a political twist to it', 'the UN wanted to bring the two wars into focus'.... so on and so forth. These are just some of the comments I heard and overheard in the University.

My interests in all things Nobel started with chemists whom I read about in College. There was something novel about what they did and how they did it. And not just that, many Nobel winning works have also led to tangible results. I am not well read in Economics, but I don't think I would be straying far from the truth in saying that the theories and works of Nobel winning Economists have had far reaching effects on people. This should have been most true for the Peace Nobel.

People in India have always said that the Nobel missed Gandhiji. In fact, the Nobel committee did not give a Peace prize the year he died, citing the lack of a deserving candidate. A similar act here would have looked different and worth appreciation. People have often questioned as to why Gandhiji was overlooked for the prize. It has been suggested that he was only a nationalist, concerned with all things Indian, did not have a global impact, had not held any peace congresses, possessed fluctuating styles of work, went far deep into his principles of non violence and led an enormous mass of population, most of which had no clue of his ideology. If similar arguments would be applied in this year's prize, I don't see a single case being satisfied.

This issue aside, I admire the President for his earnest handling of issues and hope that he delivers the goods. It remains to be seen whether the prize does more harm than good to his image as a leader. This has definitely uncovered some of the issues any committee might consider while deciding an awardee.

News from home: An upcoming Diwali dinner with some friends. Really looking forward to some yummy food and meeting new people. Had a nice chat with Chasha, K Bhai and Saikat after a long time. Nothing like speaking to friends!

More later.

Chicago, classes and Saturday

2009-10-03T23:18:00.000-07:00

This last week has been power packed and has screamed through. Friday was exciting in that I had my weekly discussion that went off to satisfaction. I also finalised my weekend in Chicago, which was planned over 30 minutes. From another ditch of a plan to an awesome weekend, it couldn't have been better.

Anupam called up on Friday evening telling me that he would be in Chicago the following morning, indirectly telling me to get there asap. The early morning ride from Madison was smooth and I dozed off as soon as I got on the bus. Something shook me up from my nap as we reached downtown and a monster of a buiding zoomed past me. I was stunned for the first few seconds, this was the first time I was seeing so many skyscrapers in one place. I hurriedly called up Ashish to tell him about what crazy place i thought it was only to discover that his home was a couple of blocks away. He came down and we spent a good three-four hours together. I am hoping he comes over to Madison sometime before the winter kicks in.

Next, I moved to Niladri Da's place and alongwith Anupam, walked to the nearest Puja pandal to catch what was but a glimpse of the festivities shaking up India. I randomly ran into Ruban, an old friend from Noida, having last met him about ten years ago. Now, how often does that happen? It was great to catch up with him and recount our childhood days of him being scolded by his mom, our college days and all the other gossip about common friends.

We moved on to Chicago downtown and took a nice walk along the lake side. Not for nothing is Lake Michigan one of the Great Lakes. I am waiting to check out the ocean on the East coast now. We decided to visit Sears Tower, the second tallest building in the world. A short wait later, we found ourselves on the 103rd floor, overlooking an expanse of 50 miles, four states and a clear view of the Windy city. I also stood on the Skydeck, which is a glass box jutting out of the building... really scary but worth every step laid on it. Its not everyday that you look down and see cars zooming by a 100 floors below! Moving on, I walked down to South Michigan Avenue where I met Nishant, my brother from Chennai. One should have an elder brother in every city :). Mexican food, chocolate and sometime in his wonderful apartment later, I took a cab back home. The cabbie was joking about never every stepping onto the Skydeck, not even for his life.

We moved out early next morning and took a train to what Niladri calls the O Hare airport (making it sound like the most sacred place in the United States!). The idea of renting a car was Anupam's, and it turned out to be great. We drove to a place called Indiana dunes, that has some natural sand dunes and a long beach by Lake Michigan (I thought only oceans formed beaches). We spent the better part of the day walking around the place and got back by evening. A cuppa coffee later, we headed to Devon street, the India town of Chicago, for dinner. It felt different to be in what looked like any market area in south Delhi, but the very idea of huddling together in a foreign country is one that I cannot come to terms with.

I knew that I would stick around in the city for too long and Nishant's suggestion of taking the 6:30 pm bus went unheard. I guess it turned out to be lucky for me and I sidestepped a hailstorm by twenty minutes. Walking through the University at two in the morning was a different feeling and just the sight of the Chemistry building was great. The already quiet town was even more so, except for the lone teenage hung over the weekend party.

What looked like a great weekend was turning out to be less so as the week started. The homework submissions became more daunting and somehow I managed a face saving Wednesday. We have chemistry seminars on Thursday mornings and my chemical instrumentation professor, Prof. John Wright, spoke about his work. I have attended two of his research talks earlier and fared slightly better on this one, having been able to go beyond the first couple of slides, for once! I hope to progress slide-by-slide and I guess I might get something inside my head by the 100th talk.

The Friday lab in chemical instrumentation was great fun as we experimentally verified what we has read in class and worked out on Mathcad (a mathematics software like Mathematica).

I spent most of Saturday shopping for food and clothes. It has been raining lightly over the last week or so and Madison seems to be getting ready to welcome the winter. The farmers market is rather well organised. I was expecting something like our subzi mandi but I guess I will have to wait for some more time to experience the addictive chaos and the spontaneity of the Indian vegetable market.

News from home - Shankar is enjoying his Bose headphones, Vinod has to read five papers over the weekend and Sriram finally managed to get back the money he owed to his wierd friend by accompanying him for weekend shopping.

Looking forward to yet another week of learning.

What is India?

2009-09-25T15:49:00.000-07:00

'You guys don't care too much about time, do you?', asked a friend, today. For a moment, I was taken aback, not knowing if an accusation was implied . I was relieved when he went on to tell me about one of his professors who had spent some time in India and had come back with such stories. I don't remember how I answered his query, must have mumbled something about generalisations not holding good in India. What then, is the truth of India?

I went to the city library earlier this week and found a full section on books on India and Indians. (What was more surprising was to find another section on Pakistan sitting right next to the Indian one. At least the books seem to coexist peacefully.) Every other author seems to have mastered the knowledge of the history of India. Yet, most Indians seem to have a naive and narrow view of our own country, giving more importance to petty issues like religion, money, movies and cricket than literacy, ethics, pollution - issues that require far more attention.

Shashi Tharoor puts it rather eloquently in one of his books that India is an entity greater than the sum of its parts (playing with words comes naturally to him, albeit at some cost). 'My friend is going to India on a month long project. She wants to see the 'real' India', quipped a friend some days ago. I then had the tough job of first figuring out what the 'real' India is, and then guiding my friend's friend towards it. I was lectured upon the reality of education in India by my roommate. 'Indians have to study for a job, dude. What's the use of research when it has no applications? You can't survive in India, dude.' I choose to postpone my comments on this. Such illustrious views deserve being trashed separately.

What then is the one thing that is true for every part of India or every Indian? Is there such a thing at all? I am struggling to come up with an answer myself, more so from a place that is another huge melting pot. Here, some Indians seem to take pride in speaking Hindi, Tamil, etc in public. Others trash everything that has enabled them to reach here, and take to all things American like ducks to water. Still others choose to play safe, pretending ignorance of issues other than their chosen areas of work.

Politics is an issue of enormous proportions in the epic that is India. Centuries of leaders, sects, followers and faiths have ensured the present confusion that seems to pervade every political entity the country.No one has a clear agenda or set of beliefs, but even that is a generalisation that I overlooked while writing.

All generalisations seem to break down when the issue is as special as the idea of India.

Cattle class, etc.

2009-09-19T20:09:00.000-07:00

'Cattle class' was talk of the town, and indeed the whole country, last week. But I don't think the man was far from the truth. For one, it is a phrase used to describe the economy class, and very apt at that. Isn't that the way we are shoved in and out of economy class airlines, railways, buses, shared autos, rickshaws, possibly every mode of transport. A seat for two can fit three, and even four, if required. Railways is an epic in itself. The berth you just reserved for yourself does not belong to you, it is government property, so it is as much yours as it is mine. Saikat, my friend from Kolkata once told me of this seat-grabbing ploy he once saw. It involved fake shit, which people would hurl through the windows of trains, so that no one would want to sit on that seat. And just think about the locals running in Mumbai. I guess cows have it way easier, moving around carefree on the boulevards of India, sans red lights, one ways, etc. I can never forget Saikat's hilarious rendition of how he travels in the locals, fighting with every other person around him, for an extra heel of space. Bring as many new trains as you might want to, introduce the metro, a/c buses; things are likely not to change.

What else... the fire alarm has been buzzing around in our apartment pretty often over the last week. For some reason, I think its due to Vinod and his cooking skills, if not his cooker. For the uninitiated, there is something gone awry about everything that Vinod does. He lost his laptop and backpack at a coffee shop in Barcelona, he worked his ass off on an internship in Finland and was given an average grade, he forgot his I 20 and still made it the US, he forgot his certificates, his cooker does not whistle.. the list is endless, and growing.

Sridhar is right with my question in the last post, it was Jean Paul Sartre who declined the Nobel on philosophical grounds. The other voluntary refusal was made by Le Duc Tho, a Vietnamese activist who refused the 1973 prize that he was jointly awarded with Henry Kissinger, because Vietnam was still not at peace.

I went to a Hay Ride today, not quite cattle class though. Had a nice time reaching the place, with Richard, my Tour of Madison guide, driving me to the place. The ride itself was no big deal, a group of people driving around in a tractor. But it was a nice time playing volleyball, meeting a lot of people and eating very good food.

We did our bi-weekly shopping yesterday, so the fridge is full. We have stocked up lots of cookies and stuff to snack up. Sankar's got a new set of Bose headphones and Sriram's advisor is coming back from Princeton in ten days.

The festive season starts in India, and I am sure to miss it dearly. As a kid, navratri would mean staying up late on the pretext of raas garba, running around with friends and getting up late in the mornings. Over the last two years, the fun reduced, but I still managed to sneak out for an evening of dance and fun. I don't know what's gonna happen here. Would be nice to get some of the festive season in India to Madison.

Thursday updates

2009-09-17T19:47:00.000-07:00

My weekends seem to have shifted to Thursday and Friday... the things that a single homework does to your schedule! I attended a proteomics lecture today, got very little between the ears, and learnt more at lunch with the speaker. That Harvard has around 8000 labs in all and takes in less than 70 students every year was news to me.

Till not so long ago, I was performing titrations in labs and despairing whenever my readings would be way off the expected values (which was more often than not). I also had the honour of recording the highest ever error in gravimetry during my masters. I zoomed out of every window on the Prof's grading scale and was lucky to escape with a B-. The students in the course I TA for have a pretty challenging job at hand. The tolerance levels are stringent and their experiments are graded on the basis of their accuracy and precision. The only saving grace is that this contributes to only a third of their total grade for the experiment, meaning that even if something goes wrong, they still earn some points.

I also stumbled onto the fact that Hargobind Khorana worked for ten years at an Institute five minutes from my place and was also awarded the Nobel during this period. That reminds me of an interesting story that I would pose as a question here. Who is the only person to have declined the Nobel prize? Answer coming up on Sunday (cheap publicity, I know!).

Racing against time

2009-09-13T17:43:00.000-07:00

Coming just a month into graduate school, the title sounds a week bit exaggerated. But this is what I have started doing, and I am getting increasingly convinced with each passing day that this is how things would be during my stay in Madison.

Weekly homeworks: I never really gave them a damn in undergrad. But it is one big race here. The whole of Sunday goes away in solving equations, fitting curves and trying to get a grip of what the prof says in class. And this is just homework. The lectures are related but need their own time. And the classes are just picking up their pace.

TA: labs and discussion. Labs on Monday and Wednesday require that I demonstrate the basics of the experiments for the day, while on Fridays I try to take the students to the next set of experiments. I spent close to four hours preparing for a 50 minute discussion, which turned out to be pretty ok, I guess. What beats me is how I will be managing once classes catch steam.

The town had a triathlon today. Some were out running, biking and swimming; and the majority was out cheering, clapping amd playing music on the streets. Everytime I see so many people running or jogging, I am reminded of a book I started reading recently where the author wonders how this place would look from a chopper. People seem to be running round the clock from place A to place B. Why couldn't the people in place A just stay there and let the others be wherever they were? Guess the author would need some convincing on that.

The last seven days have disappeared in a haze. Looking forward to another week of learning.

First week of classes

2009-09-07T20:29:00.000-07:00

Monday and Tuesday passed off pretty quietly. The big difference I could see around the place was the increase in numbers. All the undergrads were getting back. Bascom Hill was full of colourful shirts, shorts and skirts stretching out in the sun, playing power frisbee and having fun.

Wednesday was day one for classes in the University. The Department was brimming with activity, classes were running full, the bell assumed more meaning, office staff became busier and the knowledge cycle gained the yearly acceleration. We got our first weekly homework in the first class and having struggled with it for three days, I have had a satisfying learning experience working it out. Till very recently, a homework used to mean copying a set of notes blindly. Thursday was an easy day while Friday meant I would be facing the set of students I would be TAing for. The discussion scheduled for 50 minutes got done in 20.

Labour Day meant that I had a long weekend ahead. Saturday went in house cleaning, lazing around and the bi-weekly shopping stint at Woodman's. Vinod and I started our confectionary consumption duo, our home finally got a trash can, and we had masala dosa for dinner.

Sunday and Monday flew away with the homework assignment. Most of the town seemed to be getting back from the hangover of the Friday football game. The town is basking in the pleasant sunshine and the mornings are getting cooler. Sriram is diving ever-so-deeper into his books. I am getting increasingly convinced that he will end up as a brilliant, mad mathematician in one of the topmost mathematics institutes of India. Vinod has been attempting to teach Sri the beauty of Bollywood music. Raja came home for dinner yesterday and has gone back with a recipe for masala dal. What else... we also got an interesting visit by our neighbours who were looking for a bulb that would fit into the a/c vent.

Tuesday is working day here but I don't have any classes. Its funny with these holidays. Americans do no labour on Labour Day (sorry.. that is as far as I can get). For a first week, its been steady. I have my first lab on Wednesday. Hoping that everything goes well.

TA training and the Tour of Madison

2009-08-30T05:54:00.000-07:00

I have finished a highly satisfying week long training for my job as a Teaching Assistant (TA). The work load was pretty light and I managed to learn a great deal. One of my teachers in College used to say that things change when you get to the 'other' side of the table, in class, and I am at the brink of discovering if that is true.

The training began with the advice of staying away from dating our students! We had a couple of sessions that showed us how we could present ourselves in class, deal with tough situations and keep everyone occupied. We also had a public speaking session that included a hilarious game of the whole class building a chain-story. I got to know that I would be TAing for an analytical chemistry course, so the rest of my training would occur separately from the rest of the class. We are five students and together with two senior TAs, Pam - the lab director, Gery - the undergrad chemistry advisor; and Prof Josh Coon - the instructor of the course, make up the ten-strong staff for CHEM 329 - the analytical labs.

We started with basic safety training and lab practices. Most of these were already outlined to me in College, but I thought they were emphasised upon strongly here. We also practised the first three experiments, I made a mistake and learnt that it was one that the undergrads are also know to make. The practises were followed by discussions and things went on pretty smoothly.

The Tour of Madison is organised by a group of organisations that work for International students in collaboration with a number of churches in Madison. A short welcome in the Red Gym, which was once a seat of armour, kickstarted the tour. We were made to choose drivers, based on their preferences, who would show us around the town. Someone asked for two European women, another wanted to take out three Indian guys while many called upon just about anyone. My guides Patrick (neuroscience grad) and Richard (IT guy) and fellow tourists Leo and Shaw (both law students) seemed to be a nice bunch. We drove around Madison for a couple of hours. The highlights were the walk around the Capitol, the stop at Lake Wingra (where one can rent boats and sails), the drive through the arboretum and the forest (that had two panthers prowling around) and the final stop at Tina and Bob's place. This stop at an American family's place was also part of the tour. I had the best vegetarian food outside home in Madison and met a lot of people - Americans, Germans, Chinese (one fourth of international students in Madison are Chinese). And that rounded up the day for me. I got back home and a nice meal. Sri made something that was supposed to be rasam and was about to throw it down the drain, but we decided to be nice to him instead.

The week that was...

2009-08-24T22:35:00.000-07:00

I have the difficult task of putting the happenings of an entire week in a single post. I really want to get even with my schedule and I thought I should set things right immediately.

Monday morning saw me taking the twelve minute walk from Oak Tree to the Daniels Building of the Chemistry department. Neatly laid out pavements, little gardens dotted with flowers, pedestrian signals, overtaking bikers, cool breeze, sunshine kissing your skin... I enjoy my walk and hope to continue with it till the mercury comes calling (or falling, rather!).

I met Stephenie, the graduate program coordinator and Sue, the Analytical Chemistry coordinator. I was received warmly, spoken to patiently and made to feel at home. A single question was answered verbally and supplemented by a two page printout. Information is used and passed around at a fast pace here. Coordinators hold the key to the proper functioning of any program and, more often than not, do a pretty good job of making things easy for the faculty and students. I also registered for a course and got my students' identity card. Some formalities later, I walked back home for lunch.

All grad students were welcomed to a continental breakfast, photo session and introduction in the department on Wednesday. My class seems to have an interesting mix of people that includes the biggest basketball fan in the world, two dads, a guy who counted till 12,000 in ones in class five, a girl who was sure that no one in the class got her name, and others.

What followed on Wednesday and Thursday was a set of advisory exams. These were supposed to point out deficiencies in the learning of an entering grad student and the grades would help in course selection. Now that I have enrolled into the courses of my choice, I don't think my exams were that bad. We followed the exams with a pizza session (I have a feeling I will see many more pizza sessions - after talks, before talks, at picnics, at home and away). I met a few people, said hello, asked about their undergrad school, told them a little bit about India. A common remark was that my English was good. I didn't know what to say, so I must have mumbled a thank you, or something of that sort. But people were very polite and courteous, keeping the door ajar for the person behind them, offering to press the floor button, allowing others to steer their carts past theirs in supermarkets, etc.

Friday began with a meeting of the Analytical Chemistry division, for which I was late by five minutes. I felt horrible about it, even though the meeting had barely started, and have decided never to be late for an appointment ever in life. This was followed by a one-on-one with my advisor regarding course selection. Prof. John Wright has been in Madison for more than forty years and spoke with a mentor's assurance.

I was off pretty early on Friday and spent some time walking around the place. Saturday and Sunday flew away at home, apart from a nice long walk with Sri. The highlight was probably the pulao I cooked on Sunday afternoon. It tastes really well with the Sambhar masala mom made for me.

TA orientation started on Monday morning. I guess I will write about that in a separate post. We went for groceries this evening inaugurating our bus passes. Copps supermarket offers fresh fruits and vegetables, plus the very best of muffins, brownies and cakes. We also met an Indian couple on our way out, had a long chat and ended up with an open invitation to their place. We seem to have bought enough stuff for two weeks and had an awesome dinner of dal, aaloo, rice and buttermilk, topping it up with some chocolate cake. Our friend Raja particularly enjoyed the homemade touch to his food, quite different from the 'cornflakes and milk' dinner that he would make do with otherwise.

Sri is busy taking Vinod's case as Raja and Sankar watch on. I have to crash now, planning to get up early and burn out all that chocolate in the morning. My day starts at ten and I am looking forward.

Moving into Oak Tree

2009-08-22T09:27:00.000-07:00

It has been quite a while since I sat down to write about all that has been happening around me. After a pleasant stay at Pradeep's place, I moved into my apartment at Oak Tree a week ago.

The Friday before the last one was my first day out. Puja took me around the place, helped me open a bank account and also showed me into the department. I got started with filling some tax and payroll forms and understanding the health insurance schemes, which is a highly debated issue in the US Senate these days. We had a nice East African lunch of lentils, rice and aaloo gravy at State street. The lakeside in Madison is beautiful and typical weekdays see families and students in the town come over to the Memorial Union and hang out over food and drinks. I met one of my roommates, Sankar, and had a nice time walking around the place. We also went to our present apartment and checked it out. It looked pretty comfortable and, apart from a few niggles, a good place to spend the first year.

I shifted to Oak tree at noon on Sunday and met my apartment mates Sriram and Vinod as well. Sri is a grad student in Mathematics and is in love with his subject. He works on an area that a lot of people fear to venture into and has us in splits with his tales of a certain Indian friend, whom I shall not name here. Vinod is getting thinner by the hour and I am certain he will vanish into thin air on the way to his workplace. Currently, he is trying to scale up his evening meal from two rotis to three.

We shopped for groceries in the evening. In this place, people shop at a huge scale and in a manner completely different from what we are used to in India. Almost everyone shops in huge malls that are far away from the city centre. The neighbourhood shops are expensive and do not stock up a lot`of stuff. So, the system encourages you to spend a lot and stock up things in the refrigerator. Also, most locals and some international students have cars and very few people take the bus, which, I am told, is one of the best services in all of the United States. So, you see, the system encourages you to buy cars. The concept of fresh vegetables is nowhere to be seen. What is frozen is considered fresh. A huge contrast from the neighbourhood subzi-wallah that we have back home.

The supermarkets have an awesome variety of everything - pizzas, fruits, veggies, milk products (Wisconsin is the milk state of the US, btw), health foods, plastics, etc. I guess this is what impresses a newcomer about this country, though it can also be pretty bugging when you are asked to choose from a set of ten different colours for your debit card!

We hogged on an a delicious meal of aaloo-matar, roti and rajma-chaval.

Madison

2009-08-13T19:04:00.000-07:00

My first day in Madison has gone off pretty well. A friend's friend agreed to host me for a couple of days till I move into my own apartment and so here I am, sitting in the confines of a carpeted but un-furnished, one-room apartment. My host has been nice to take me in, considering he just moved in a day back and has an important examination coming up in a couple of weeks.

So let me resume from where I left. The American airlines staff was middle-aged - the first thing that I noticed. Both the airlines I flew prior to this flight were based out of India and had very young crew. However, my friends tell me that this is not the case for Air India (of which I shall not speak much, considering it has come from once being among the five top airlines in the world to having had to be bailed out). Drinks and a sumptuous lunch followed. My American vegetarian meal consisted of fruits, vegetables, bread and pasta.

All this while I was searching for a pair of headphones to connect to the in flight entertainment system. It wasn't there in the back pocket of the seat in front, or the handrest, or on my seat. But many around me were tuned in to their systems. It turned out that American airlines 'welcomes all its passengers to use their own earphones and headphones. the airlines also offers its own earphones for two dollars and allows us to keep them for future use'. Hmph! How mean. But I guess it is common out here and I felt slightly wierd as it was my first flight to the US. I couldn't sleep very well but I did manage to doze off for a while. An hour before landing, we were served a light afternoon meal that included some cereal and fruit.

The customs check at Chicago airport reminded me of my visa interview. Everything went well and I was through to my luggage. The security officer did ask me if I was carrying any eatables like sweets (probably to make sure that no Indian germs were moving to Madison). Half an hour later, I boarded the Van Galder bus to Madison. The approach roads leading to and from Chicago airport are well laid. The airport is also connected by a railway system. As we moved out from the city and on the freeways, the drive became smoother. There were a lot of trucks hauling everything from cars and boats to logs of wood. Wherever there was a pilup, vehicles stayed at least two metres from each other and there was simply no honking. I also read a board that said hitting a worker would lead to a fine of $ 10,000 and upto 14 years in jail (prison, sorry!).

Madison seems to be a pretty place, located between laked Mendota and Monona. My friend Jayashree picked me up from what is known as Memorial Union, a centrally located place in the University. I met some other Indian students at her place and had a wonderful dinner (I am still licking the rajma off my lips, thanks to Puja for that). I then walked to my host's apartment. We chatted for some time and then crashed for the night. I had a sound sleep and woke up at quarter past ten. I stayed indoors for the day and caught up with some more sleep after lunch. One of my friends had advised me to keep walking, so I thought of strolling down to the nearest supermarket. Like many things here, it was huge and offered a wide variety of food stuff to buy. I ended up buying some fruits.

Getting back home, I had dinner and sit here typing all this out. I don't know if it sounded mundane and boring. I just wanted to write in as its all so new to me and I wanted to put it down somewhere.

Planning to go to the University tomorrow morning. Puja has agreed to take me around. I also hope to start off with some of the formalities tomorrow. More later.

A Page from Brussels

2009-08-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

I am writing this from Brussels airport. Its quarter to nine on Wednesday, 12th Aug'09 and I have just started what seems to be one long picnic. Picnic for now, I am sure things will change as time flies. I guess I would be posting this online sometime later as the internet hotspot required a credit card and I am not carrying one. But I am tempted to write about all the I have in between the ears so that I do not end up missing much.

As I left New Delhi, people called, wished and asked if I was feeling excited or nervous. Contrary to popular expectations, I was feeling neither. Being emotionless is not exactly how I would introduce myself, but quite strangely, I did not realise the fact that I would be leaving home for a long long time. The drive to the airport was typically Delhi-ish. My young driver hailed from Allahabad and gave me good company throughout. The New Delhi airport has had a huge makeover, replete with glistening roofs, round-the-clock maintenance, smoking bars et al. But the huge rush that the airport has to manage is something God knows which makeover would manage. Baggage check-in and immigration didn't take long and I found it amusing sitting well within New Delhi and still being outside Indian shores, so to speak.

The Jet Airways crew was friendly and the flight took off smoothly. What followed was what I was waiting for. Fresh lime, pav bhaji, , movies, a sound sleep, idly and upma, more drinks and Brussels. It funny... people always complain about delays in Indian airports, but it took me more time to get through a single security check here. The airport is beautiful and the waiting lounges provide a wonderful view of all the flights and the runway. My brother managed to track me down somehow and surprised me by calling me at the counter where I checked in. I thought it was some prank that the crew was playing on me when it said that there was someone who wanted to speak to me. I was secretly expecting some security officer to ask a few questions and vague images of me standing behind bars suddenly vanished on hearing my brother's voice. Every now and then, he manages to come up with something like this.

It still doesn't feel like I have left India. I guess it never will, at least not the way I thought it would. One just has to turn round a corner to bump into an Indian. A group of Indian students just crossed over, buzzing about 'Love Aaj Kal'. Delhi doesn't seem to be very far.

I have to go now, don't want to miss my flight in all this writing. I guess I will continue this as soon as I get time. Next up in an American Airlines flight to Chicago, followed by a three hour bus journey to Madison.

On Omar

2009-07-30T18:42:00.000-07:00

Omar Abdullah comes across as a confident young man, with lots of promise in the Indian political scene that is getting younger with each passing day. However, his first stint at the helm of affairs in the perennially troubled state of J&K has been anything but smooth. Shopian, Baramulla, blah blah... stone pelting, effigy burning, etc. And the latest is the 2006 sex scandal. I am hoping that he comes out clean. Amidst all the angry outbursts, accusations and denials, Omar made a statement that has stayed with me. He said, "In this country the accused is pronounced innocent until proven guilty. However, since this is a personal attack on my morality, I hold myself guilty until proven innocent."

The man surely talks hard. It remains to be seen if he delivers as he promises.

Doosra kissa

2009-07-27T21:28:00.000-07:00

The Aussies are back at what they do best - kill the opponents' strength just because they cannot learn the tricks of the trade. At a recent meeting of the Kangaroos' leading spin bowlers (can't remember anyone except Warne knowing quality spin), it was agreed that bowling the doosra without chucking was impossible. Spin coaches in Australia would be advised not to teach the doosra (like they knew how to!), in a bid to encourage other nations to follow suit. Tch tch... such a pity that the erstwhile champions have to resort to such techniques to negate the opposition's advantage. Didn't Harbhajan, Murali and co. go thru a host of biomechanical tests in Melbourne to get cleared of chucking? Seems like the current crop of spin wizards are not looking in that direction.

Here's a note to all budding fast bowlers in Kangaroo land - you will soon be told that bowling reverse swing is not allowed.

My Maths Teacher

2009-07-25T18:33:00.000-07:00

I was out shopping yesterday evening with my parents and this happened when we were at a shoe store in NOIDA's bustling Sector 18 market. As we turned from the wall that displayed all the shoes to move to another section I heard someone shriek, 'Hello Ma'm!'. It was invariably another of mom's students whom we usually bump into anywhere, anytime in NOIDA. What followed was a power packed, emotionally charged display of gratitude and happiness that left everyone in the shop amused, except the student of course. She kept shrieking 'My Maths Teacher', in disbelief, and would just not let go of mom's feet. She also dragged her poor husband (much to his embarrassment) to do the same (not the shrieking part). It was hilarious to watch most of the shoppers and sales boys forgetting their jobs momentarily. I guess some of them were thinking about their teachers, I sure was. I also couldn't help thinking that only a teacher can get such a show of affection. My mom was shaken up by the whole thing, especially that all things around her stopped moving, and made a hasty, slithery exit, but not before another round of hugs :)

One of my most sincere and effective teachers lamented in class about how teaching was a thankless job and nothing save the personal motivation drove teachers around the country to continue working selflessly. I guess things are not that bleak after all.

Sporty see-saws

2009-07-22T19:25:00.001-07:00

The sporting world has seen some tumultous changes over the last few months. Long-standing champions have been shown the door and fresh blood has claimed podia across sporting arenas. Some make me happy and some don't, but altogether, this shift of dominance does augur well for the particular sport.

Watching the traditional Ashes rivalry going England's way is might pleasing. Let's be clear, I admire the Aussies for their professional attitude and brilliant skills. However, they have never been adorable winners and, barring Adam Gilchrist, are pretty loathable for their pomposity. They also are bitter losers, as was seen on India's last tour down under. So it was a treat to the eyes to see Ponting losing it big time on the field. The Aussie attack looked pedestrian and made an average English side look like champions in the second test. Save Michael 'Pup' Clark's battling innings, there isn't much that I would applaud them for. While the first two tests have not produced breathtaking cricket (apart from a couple of sessions) the drama on and off the field, and England's win has ensured that the next two tests will be keenly watched and contested. Even in the greater scheme of things, the Aussies are no longer the invincibles they have been over the last fifteen years. South Africa, but for their trademark choking at the final stage of every tournament, look like deserving successors though India is also tipped to have entered the big three.

There isn't a better time to watch tennis than this. While women's tennis is seeing a shift of power from the Russians back to the power packed Williams siblings, the men's circuit is nothing less than legendary. Tennis greats have hailed the current Federer-Nadal rivalry as the best ever. They say every champion has his/her nemesis - Sampras had Agassi while Steffi had Seles. Federer seems to have dug out the mother of all nemeses in the Spanish bull. This rivalry, however, is in complete contrast to the Aussie-English one The champion is as modest as ever, even going to the extent of acknowledging Nadal's greatness by saying, ' I am trying to win whatever I can before he starts winning everything'. Nadal, to his part, has always maintained that Federer is the King of tennis. Although it feels good to see a youngster power his way through to the top, I am always a Federer fan and for once, would like to see this fight go the champion's way. He has surely made the most of Nadal's absence by pocketing the French Open and the Wimbledon and I just can't wait to see Nadal back in action.

Another arena that has seen see-sawing fortunes for the players is motorsport. I understand little of the technical nuances of the sport and contend myself more with the points tally. Ferrari was making the sport so predictable by winning everything under the sun that I was beginnig to give up wathing the sport when out came Lewis Hamilton and his new look Renault Team. Though it couldn't prevent Barichello winning the driver's championship in the season ending race, it did make things interesting for the present season. This time round, its been a brand new Brawn, living its name and teaching the others a lesson or two in driving.

On a concluding thought, and this might be read as far-fetched and unduly patriotic, I am hoping for another upheaval in women's badminton where the Chinese will no longer look unbeatable. Go Saina!

Panchvi Pass?

2009-07-20T18:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's papers ran a whole section on how a majority of high school teachers in U.P. and Bihar could not spell two moderately difficult words (by Class V standards), could not solve a simple area problem involving a rectangle, and so on. Many of them could not even sign their own names. All this in lands that boasted of the world's oldest and greates universities. How those big institutions came crashing down, refusing to be resurrected, is something I cannot digest. That apart, one doesn't need to guess as to the quality of education offered in these places. Thousands and lakhs of students graduating with high grades and degrees and what-nots, but with little or no education. Being a largely services-oriented country, it fails me to understand why the lakhs of qualified graduates and post graduates cannot yield a few thousand efficient teachers. The issues that swoop down my brain as I wrote the previus sentence are money and respect. We have seen and heard of cases where both are found wanting by teachers. The unfortunate and most inhuman case of a professor being pumelled to death in Pune brings to the forefront the ill treatment meted out to many teachers across the nation. Of course, exceptions do exist and will always do. About money, it is no secret that teachers are hardly paid what they deserve, pay commissions or none.

This also brings in another disturbing issue - does the Indian schooling system offer knowledge sans education? I observe the three Class X students who come home to study Maths with my mom. I find them quite intelligent and smart, and they also seem to be doing pretty well with their grades. None of them, however, seems to be loving the subject, and all of them slog it out only for the elusive 90 plus score in the end. I remember my very own days, when, for twelve long years at school, I had scarcely thought about what I liked and what I wanted to do after school. The courses were a mere formality that one went through and the final examinations meant a whole year of subjects and topics to be forgotten.

While the stress on examinations here to stay, grades or no grades, one way of improving the situation could be to offer more choices of subjects to students in high school. This could lead to an early development of interest in a particular area of study. While this suggestion, like most others, may seem promising to a few, it is the implementation that holds the key to its succes. The advantage here is that high school is not under the jurisdiction of the Board examinations and a body of schools can chart out their own syllabus. Many private schools in Delhi offer foreign language course to primary classes and most of my little friends are pretty kicked about learning them.

Studying the same set of subjects for twelve years is pretty tough. A friend exclaimed recently that school was the toughest part of his career. 'Imagine sixty students', he said, 'studying the same text and being expected to write the same answer to the same question.' That's one hell of a job, I thought. It is ironic that the same set of students are then expected to essay different jobs in life. I thought school prepared one for life!

With such a muddled approach to teaching and studies, it is no wonder that as a nation, we stay

The Delhi rain

2009-07-02T19:56:00.000-07:00

My current physiological state of a depleted set of hepatic cells has meant that I have had to be confined to my home for almost two weeks now with things looking good for an extension of three more till things get back to normal. Having nothing much to do apart from sleeping, eating bland food and drinking the prescribed fifteen glasses of fluid in any form is a drastic change from my schedule over the larger part of the previous two years. However, it is a welcome change and one that I had always looked forward to, but for the restricted diet.

Sitting in the balcony every morning, I have almost memorized the city's bijli-paani woes and the MET department's desperate predictions of the monsoon hitting Delhi soon. To be frank, this time the MET dept. proved correct, for once. The first shower provided the much needed respite from the sweltering heat. Sitting in the confines of my room, I just had to look through the window and enjoy the raindrops pelting the metal on the balcony. The scent of moist earth, arguably the best scent i can imagine, remined me of my ancestral village that I had just left in deep anguish and pain.

My parents enjoyed their cup of hot tea while the kids in my block scattered away from their parents, screaming in joy. The security guards hurried to get into their raincoats, the rickshaw-wallahs scurried to get below a hedge- elbowing each other rather selfishly. The MET department would have heaved a sigh of relief and I could already imagine their pompous grins on the next day's frontpage, 'There! Didn't we say it would happen yesterday?'. The fruit sellers scrambled their little shanty shelters in place, the lone tailor sitting on the edge of the street hurried to shut shop, lest his machine gets spoiled.

Some cursed the rain, some welcomed it, some hurried for cover, others ran to embrace it. Interesting how different people reacted differently.

To score or not to score

2009-06-27T07:27:00.005-07:00

At the very outset, I intend to make one thing clear. This post is only of academic interest. Any other frivolous interpretations of any words in the title shall be the readers' imagination and nothing else.

The recently declared CBSE Board exam results have left me in a daze. My mother, who teaches mathematics to class X, was dancing around, celebrating the four hundreds in her class. A hundred in maths has always been possible. However, I clearly remember an official from CBSE telling us students in a seminar that the answer script of the student who scores cent per cent is scrutinized thrice, in order to snatch away a mark on the slightest of pretexts. That habit of CBSE examiners does not seem to be the norm today. And the students are surely not complaining.

That is not all, my mom also tells me that the highest marks in the languages and Social Science are 97, while Science is a slightly dismal 95. One can't help but push the University cut-offs still higher. My sister, who scored 80 % in the commerce stream of class XII, is not even looking to do anything with her marks. Getting a distinction is no longer an achievement.

Spare a thought for the parents, what do they do in all this madness. Prepare their child to face the world, seek knowledge, acquire skills, etc. or join in the rat race that might not mean anything in the long run, but will surely get them an inch ahead of the rest. A concerned parent called up the other day asking if my mom would accept his son for maths tuition. On being enquired about how good he was at maths, the parent replied,'He is average, scores around 80%.'

I sometimes imagine what a chopper ride over all this tuition centres and coaching institutes would reveal. Students hunched over creaking desks busy scribbling away to a 90 or a 95 and the lone teacher crying out all formulae, equations, notes and the like.

Everyone whom I have spoken to in this regard has told me that it is always good to score high marks. And I have not been able to find a convincing counter. However, all these 90 plus scores might just come back to haunt the topper when he or she pompously parades her grade sheets in front of an interview panel. Given the capsule based approach that is ingrained in our educational system, it is indeed hard to retain knowledge (not information) over a few years. And if that is the case, then high scores can prove to be excess baggage.

To score or not to score, the verdict is still not out.

Some firsts and lasts

2009-05-20T06:48:00.000-07:00

The final few days zipped by in a daze. Its sad how the last few days in any academic phase pass by so fast. Mostly, its due to the end year examinations - everyone is busy saving their own case and hoping to end on a high. So was the case with me and my classmates - getting swallowed by the unending spiral of the majors. Well, not unending actually, just slightly prolonged this time. Usually, this institute believes in a halaal, this time it wanted to do it slow and easy. So we got time to eat and sleep between two hours of torture (did someone say redemption?). The majors were followed by that beautiful exercise of presenting and examining a year's sweat and toil. Bill Gates must have felt highly gratified by the end of it. Some were happy, some sad, some tried to hoodwink the elders and successfully so, one got caught and turned to her lachrymatory powers as a last ditch effort. Alas. To be fair, this one had a point. Anyway, the elders had a nice time munching peanuts and beating the crap out of the poor lambs.

Some firsts now... the first time I packed my bags to vacate what was home for two years, the first time I felt a tinge of sadness at leaving the mostrous place that has been much glorified in the annals of Indian academia, the first time I enjoyed a good dinner in the Insti - wonderful ambeience, a surprisingly well mannered crowd and decent food. The first time I was told that I am well mannered, decent, intelligent, etc etc. Also the first time I was warned to change my attitude else I could be heading towards disaster, the first time I was made to listen to a song in a prof's cabin, etc.

Time for some lasts... the last time I would sit at the top of the main building, overlooking a good chunk of South Delhi at 2 in the morning, the last time I would have to face the dreaded minor sna majors, the last time I would chase pigeons out of my room, the last time I would pile on with friends a day before the exams, only to meet a day before the next set of exams, also the last time I would have tea with an awesome set of labmates as one of them.

The last few days summed up, in some sense, the last two years that have just flown by. Most places seem better when they are behind you, and the insti has been no exception. I came in with no expectations, and I have surely been pleasantly surprised.

Lets save!

2009-03-24T05:39:00.000-07:00

The water is trickling down all pipes in the insti today. I walk up to a friend who usually doesn't mind heaping excess subzi and chaaval on his plate, knowing very well that all that is going down the drain. 'Dude, start saving water, yaar! Looks like we are out for the day.' And I wonder why adversity alone can jerk us into acting responsibly.

Minor issues

2009-03-23T22:50:00.000-07:00

Ha! Seems like I have a controversial post and an even more controversial title.
Its a day after what is hopefully the last set of Minors I shall face on this planet and I thought about what they mean to various people I see around me and at various times.

Pre-minors
Almost everyone starts talking minor-stuff about a week before they actually begin. The reading room strength starts building up, the mosquitoes in Ex-Hall get busy again, Nescafe and the like have a ball. Attendance is pretty steady overall (one of my profs boasts about how his students attend classes till 5 in the evening and take their exams at 8 the following morning without cribbing).

The night before
Lights don't go off, the night canteen begins, much to the respite of all hostelers, suddenly everyone is so interested in what they are studying (what they have just started studying, rather!), the reading room is full, smelly, sweaty and very, very noisy. The crowd has spilled onto the street, the library and hostel reading rooms as well. Ah! the library. Do not enter this place if you want a quiet corner, for the Insti does not believe in silence. Right from the librarian to the French exchange students, who seem to have breathed the Delhi air big time.

Day 1
And they are here, it feels best to go through the grind happily. Easy and fast... that's what everyone wants them to be. Fast alright... that's the good part, but easy? Naah! Not for me, at least. But yeah, as the minors kick off, life is suddenly changed. More time to sleep, eat, read the newspaper, etc. No boring lectures and labs, no listening to trash, no running to catch the shuttle, a way to spend your weekend that's definitely unique to the Insti.

Days 2 and 3 fly away and I don't recollect much except the daily pilgrimage to hell and back.

Day 4
This is by far the best. There is the wierd feeling of being on the edge of something. A few hours away from freedom? Or just another phase that shall come back in some form or the other? Anyway, its fun to know that life will come back to normal in a few hours. There is always this extra motivation to end on a high (I mean an academic high, no pun intended!).

The following evening
I look around and everone's having a ball. Multiple games of cricket on the same battered grounds, brick wickets and stuff. The sportsies are back, so are the wannabe Federers. The hostels are back to their noisiest, the latest movies are being downloaded and dissected. Cinema tickets are being purchased in black or white, that's the coolest way to have fun right!

All this seems like on big game, that I happened to be a part of for the last two years. A land where a few digits are bigger than your name to a lot of people who are doing what they are doing only because of the same few digits, where four mad days can make or break the way you look on paper to the Insti and the blind world beyond, where biogas vehicles run on streets littered with coffee cups. I stand confused, knowing not what to say.
Are the minors just that - a minor issue that everyone just goes through and gets done with, or are they the ultimate assay of one's academic abilities? If the former is true, then what about the majors that are just a month away? A major issue in my story?Hmph... lets leave that for later.

Delhi

2009-03-05T19:21:00.000-08:00

A wonderful thing happened yesterday - I walked into a grocery shop in Delhi, minus my usual carrybag, thinking that I could accept a polybag, for just this one time. It was only after i paid the bill that I realised that this shop had stopped giving polybags. Had to balance all the little items in my hands, but it was fun alright. Knowing some people who were going by rules and ethics was refreshing.

The Delhi Government seems to be taking the aggressive approach to its modernisation plan. While work on the Commonwealth Games front seems to be slowly picking up steam, I have my doubts as to whether it would actually take place here, given the safety situation in the subcontinent. That apart, banning polybags was a very bold move. I would bet all my money (which, considering my student status, is definitely not substantial) tha the ground situation hasn't changed a lot, but incidents like yesterday's give me hope.

The traffic situation has improved, and the heart of the city has managed to sustain its greenery. The big success is, undoubtedly, the Delhi Metro. Moving in swiftly into NOIDA, Gurgaon and Faridabad over the next couple of years before its own deadline, the Metro makes for an eye-opening case study.

While more attention is being given to the maintenance of monuments, the glaring absence of guided tours is something that worries me. Given the rich history of the city, I guess we are missing out on a lot of money, tourism and goodwill.

Still a long way to go for the Walled City, I guess.

Evening delight

2009-02-20T17:54:00.000-08:00

These 'Music in the Park' evenings are just that - a treat to the ears. Set in the lush green expanse of the Nehru Park in Chanakyapuri, New Delhi (a stone's throw from the Moti Bagh flyover on the Ring Road near Dhaula Kuan), this series of concerts brings thousands of music lovers up close with the stalwarts that carry Indian music and art forms forward.

Thanks to the office-hour traffic, Ustad Zakir Hussain and Pandit Shivkumar Sharma, were stranded on the road for more than two hours beyond schedule. It was very understanding of Pandit Venkatesh Kumar, an acclaimed vocalist from Bellary, to keep the audience engaged with his Kirana and Gwalior style of singing. A short wait later, Sunit Tandon announced that the two aformentioned maestros had arrived, and within a minute they were there, Panditji finetuning his santoor - apparently for the first time on stage!

What followed was pure magic, a rendition of the raga Jog followed by a dhun based on raga Darbaari. The jugalbandi between the two was breathtaking and the ease with which Ustadji read his senior colleague's mind was something to watch.

My first experience of hearing these two wonderful musicians perform has been wonderful. Looking forward to March 1 and Pandit Ravi Shankar and Anoushka Shankar.

Virasat'09

2009-02-19T17:48:00.000-08:00

Virasat'09 - the SPIC MACAY week at IIT Delhi, was kickstarted by Sonal Mansingh - well known exponent of Odissi, with a performance titled 'Aaj ki Kanya'. Inspite of making up a majority of the billion Indians, women in most parts of the country remain deprived of their rights. Grave thought, and a true one at that. Powerful act, I thought. Dance can be such an effective medium to put a point across. And I waited eagerly for her final performance. For some reason, she decided to portray eight 'rasa's of life using bollywood numbers. While it is a treat listening to old hits like 'Aye Bhai, zaraa...', I surely didn't expect it at a SPIC MACAY concert. Her ideas were clear but I am sure they did not need any Bollywoodish touch. I was confused whether to accept it as an innovation or to stick to my gut feeling that such a portrayal was unnecessary. There should be some places and issues that should be kept away from Bollywood, I guess.

Pt. Hariprasad Chaurasia then lit up the latter half of the evening and this confusion was quickly forgotten, till I sat down this morning. He was, as usual, impeccable, witty and courteous - introducing his regular accompanist on the tabla - Pt. Vijay Ghate, as 'a much better musician' than himself.

Congratulations are due to Dr. Kiran Seth, faculty in the Mechanical Engineering department of IIT Delhi and a slogger for SPIC MACAY for over thirty years - for keeping Indian culture alive and kicking.

And its a treat for all Hindustani music lovers this evening - Ustad Zakir Hussain and Pt. Shivkumar Sharma at Nehru Park, Chanakyapuri. More on that tonight!

Swapping purposes and days at IITD

2009-01-17T23:50:00.000-08:00

My Biomaterials professor started his course by asking how long everyone wanted to survive. The answers ranged from 60 to 100 years (one guy memorably asked whether the question pertained to this particular course! So much so for dedication and the A grade!). Next, prof. proclaimed that the human body was programmed to live optimally for only 45 years, that we humans were controlled by DNA and that we had no purpose other than reproduction and sustenance of our little masters. 'All the lazy B. Techs will hail this guy', I thought. Not to be mistaken, it is an awesome thought - that we are mere survival machines housed and run by the supreme forces on the planet - genes.

Staying with purpose, gone are the days when a ticket to IIT guaranteed a grade A job, or a fully-funded stint in a prominent US university. To quote another enlightening prof (one who makes up the dwindling minority of story-telling-teachers in the Institute), firms across the country are slowly waking up to the reality that engineers from other institutes are equally good, if not better, and have spent quaity time in workshops instead of swatting flies in front of their sleek dual-core machines.

I had a mid-week break last week, on account of Makar Sankranti. In lieu of this, Saturday was working, and functioned as a Wednesday. Such day-swapping is not uncommon to people on campus. But its funny to note that what's Saturday to the whole world, and even to the clerk in the PG section, is a full working day for the departments and centres. Thankfully, the shuffling is limited to days. God knows how things would unfold if some Head gets the bright idea of bending time!

Insti anecdotes

2008-12-30T09:40:00.000-08:00

Insti t-shirts - loudmouths

1) 'We will be what we will to be - IIT Delhi' (Alas, the only will that exists is to huddle together for the latest bollywood flick).
2) 'STAND OUT - IIT Delhi' (Nice message from Grade A companies, keeping in mind the placement scene this year).
3) 'I am what you dream to be - IIT Delhi' (Now that we have given up on ourselves, we will play smart and assume that the others haven't found out yet).

Insti rules

1) Gender sensitization committees will have samosa-chai as Hostel funds are 'officially' wasted on Socials (for the uninitiated, this event involves 'interaction' between the opposite sexes. Insti doesn't mind if this requires the fairer sex to be transported all the way from IP, Miranda, Gargi and the like; to as much as attempt to satiate the desperate souls at Hauz Khas and Kathwaria Sarai)

2) The sole natural water source on campus shall not be touched, nevermind if dengue, malaria, etc call the shots. And even then, the student is sick only if he has been to Sick Bay (that most become sick after visiting Sick Bay cannot be contested!).

Insti Chemistry

Overheard this morning as I went past a PhD student walking to his lab with his eyes burning an NMR spectrum,'Kaisi paheli hai ye, kaisi paheli...'

Road trip

2008-12-21T19:52:00.000-08:00

The things we make of what we have! An auto designed to fit three is remodelled to fit eight - I travel in one of these for my weekend trips back home and its awesome fun. Observing the expertise with which the driver catches his Savaari could make an enlightening case study in sales. Its equally hilarious to watch the reactions of first timers, used to the luxury of putting their whole body in an auto (here you should thank yourself if u can manage anything more than half a butt inside it). 'Bhaiyya, jagah kahaan hai?' has become so common that the driver doesn't even bother to reply.

Almost 600 people depend on these share-autos for their roti-kapda-makaan, ferrying thousands of the burgeoning middle class who have shifted out of Delhi into the expanse of trans-Yamuna and Indirapuram - the residential brother of Gurgaon. The porosity of the Delhi-U.P. border also means that traffic rules change practically every month. The poor auto-wallahs have to bear the brunt, with vehicles being hauled off the road every other day. Cell phones prove to be a big boon in such situations and one can occasionally find detours being taken when news comes of cops being on the job a few 100 metres ahead.

Similar stories can be seen unfolding on the roads of Gurgaon, Noida and the wonderful walkway from Mall Road to St. Stephen's and beyond. These autos may make for ugly road traffic and may be responsible for the 8 o'clock jam on the highway, but they are the lifelines for thousands. Like many other things Indian, the autos of NCR continue at their improvising best - connecting people and places.

Dusting the cobwebs

2008-11-15T09:52:00.000-08:00

I see them and am sure you don't miss them either. They are everywhere - on the address bar, the settings link, on this page. They have been bugging me for quite some time and I guess I had just started to gasp for breath. Its been quite some time since I visited the temple with my aunt, lots of incidents, accidents, memories and memoirs later, I stand on the crossroads of an interesting turn - both professinally and personally, curious to find out what's next, yet completely oblivious of what to expect.

Here's hoping that this new beginning will last longer.

Divine bliss

2008-07-05T19:07:00.002-07:00

I had a different morning today and I want to share the experience with you. My Chitti (tamil for maternal aunt) was shifting base from the chaos of Delhi to the serenity of the Deccan countryside and felt that a farewell dinner was appropriate to bid goodbye to friends and family. Staying over at her place after the feast, we decided to visit the nearby Lord Krishna temple the next morning to attend the daily bath given to the deity (these deities are lucky, aren't they? People flocking to see you getting clean every morning!). Having overcome the temptation of a longish sleep, we set out in the wee hours of the morning. A brisk walk reached us to the temple that was getting bathed in the slight drizzle that had started.

My chitti tells me that the temple opens to a small group of loyal followers every morning, who wait patiently in prayer and reverance for the main door of the sanctum sacntorum to be opened. People then assemble on both sides of a steel frame that leads to the main shrine where the deity resides, resplendant in the 'Vastram' (dress) and 'Kavacham' (ornaments) of the previous day.

And that's how things unfolded. Before long we were witnessing the meticulous morning bath. First, a thick lyer of sandal applied on the previous day was peeled off. Then came a bucket of water. As the droplets clinging to the stone idol caught the light of the hanging lamp and twinkled, a dollop of white butter came along. This was followed by coconut water, a handful of turmeric, another glass of coconut water and, finally, 3-4 glasses of milk. Throughout this rigourous procedure, performed every single morning of the year, chants of 'Narayana Narayana' (one of the plethora of names of Lord Vishnu) resonated in the Sanctorum.

Strings of devotional songs wafted in as the devotees began their 'Pradarshanam' (which involves going around a deity a specific number of times, the number varying with belief, sub-class and sub-sub-class). The fragrance of jasmine incense diffused into the moisture from the just-stopped drizzle created what looked like the heaven that one used to find in old Bollywood movies. Applying 'Vibhuti' (sacred ash) on the forehead (wither a dot or a horizontal/vertical rod, again a function of aforementioned delicate differences!) and praying fervently before each idol, wishful of good things in the future or asking for forgiveness, the devotees make their way out. All this was interspersed by loud (but never jarring) smashes of coconuts in a specially constructed inclined stone vessel, the coconuts symbolic to obstacles in life (this might also have started as a stress-buster. A much better alternative to the senseless destruction of television sets and glass items that I read about pretty often).

Outside the inner sanctorum, devotees walked in peacefully as the temple staff went about its daily chores in full devotion. A small boy was busy solving algebra problems sitting in the mandap, alongside a group of women chanting hymns.

Spending peaceful time in a Hindu religious place without being hassled for donations and the like was refreshing, especially after some unforgettable experiences in Vrindavan and Mathura (where every corner is claimed as the Lord's janmasthan!). All in all, a wonderful experience.

Morning hues

2008-06-27T22:03:00.000-07:00

I woke up yesterday morning and the stillness struck me like never before. The rain-less week was coming to an end and I was hoping for some respite from the hot and humid Delhi weather. Add to that a creaking fan that threatened to collapse any moment and made sound sleep an achievement in itself in my hostel wing, things were not all that rosy. Coming back, not a soul to be seen (six in the morning is when many have finished their third movie of the night!), not a leaf moved, no squirrels running in frenetic play, no birds twittering, absolutely nothing. It was probably the dullest morning I had woken up to for a long time. As I reached out to the tap, it announced compliance with the prevailing boredom. Some pipeline must have burst, I thought, as I made my way to the bathroom below. Same story there as well, ditto in the first and ground floors - no water in the entire hostel. As I clambered up the stairs, counselling whether I should perform my ablutions in another hostel, I heard the guard shout after me, 'Sir! Tanker aa gayaa hai. Paani le lo.' And that's how I got the first bucket of Delhi Jal Board water of my life. Sounds funny? Well, in those circumstances, it was heavenly.

As I made my way back to my room, feeling rejuvenated, I paused on the corridor in front of my room, and it struck me again. How could it be? This was like putting me into a painting. I gasped for breath, but the air that I drew in was warm, and I felt even more suffocated. Something had to give in, this couldn't go on for long. There was a whole day ahead and I didn't want to start it this way. And then, it rained...

I heard the first few drops and as the clouds congregated, something changed, rather, everything changed. Within minutes, puddles of water formed on the terrace, rousing birds, animals and some of the cream around me from their slumber. It was a celebration that I feasted on, enjoying every bit of the fun. It lasted for barely thirty minutes, but set the tone for the day. I knew things would be good. As the clouds gave way and the sun shone brightly, I couldn't think of a brighter morning. Interesting what a few drops of water can do!

Chemical issues

2008-06-14T02:07:00.000-07:00

Its been four weeks since I stepped into the pungent environs that would be my third home for the next twelve months ( as thrashed out strictly on day one: six days a week, 9 to 6, even if I have no work and yes, no holidays come what may...). I guess its time I put down my thoughts about the days I have spent in my laboratory. Apart from busying myself with a few chemical reactions and some reading, I have spent some time thinking about how real-life science is full of ironies. Here, I attempt to give shape to one of them, without any offence to anyone.

Science, as is claimed by its champions, is only for the good of life. But in their journey to the altar of truth, we chemists don't mind pumping huge amounts of noxious, deadly chemicals outside our labs (a nearby drain, an open pit or best - the lab next door!). And even if some do, they brush it aside as another of those trivial matters that obstruct one's path to scientific glory. Emptying hexane and acetone is, well,just part of the rigmarole that occurs round the clock in laboratories around the world. And benzene... aah! we love washing our hands with it while setting off on our chemical odysseys. No wincing muscles, no raised eyebrows, no concern, as the concentration of hydrocarbons rises to alarming levels in the air and water around us.

Water - more critical to the origin and propagation of life than any other natural resource, freely flows in and out of our taps. flushing out chemicals dumped into the sink. Another senseless practise that endangers the lives of millions (including the people working in the lab themselves!). Why can't we keep separate bottles for the common solvents used and thrown, and then extract them by simple physical methods known to us for decades? This is a potentially profitable job,on environmental and financial fronts , and should be explored. Imagine making money out of discarded chemicals! Chemical waste treatment is either ignored or left to the city municipalities, who generally have no technical expertise in this area. As a result, chemicals are accumulating in air, water and on land, ready to strike at all forms of life on earth. If things carry on the way they have till now, deaths due to excessive concentrations of chemicals inside our bodies will be commonplace.

Research in chemistry will never stop, and from what I have seen and experienced, disposal of chemicals can, at best, be reduced and monitored. This leaves us with isolation, treatment and extraction of chemicals from waste products as promising areas to address the issue of chemical imbalance in our environment and bring the levels of chemicals in nature to acceptable levels. As chemists and responsible humans, let us act effectively to this end.

What's your problem?

2008-06-07T05:18:00.000-07:00

(In conversation with a lab mate who has just joined, discussing each other's projects)

Me: So what do you work on?

Labmate: I work on ... blah blah blah.

Me: Hey, that's cool!

Labmate: And what's your problem?

Good ol' DTC

2008-06-01T20:53:00.000-07:00

I am just back in my lab after an hour of getting jostled around in what is the largest environment-friendly bus service in the world. Having grown up with the city, it feels really good to write that. Only if one has experienced the rude congestion of a private bus can he /she relate to the luxury in a DTC. No, the crowd is very much there, sometimes close to 150 people crushed into each other, stomping on each other's feet, tugging at whatever support they can find, reading the body language of the person sitting on the closest seat - prepared to jump on it as soon as it is vacated. Its only in the DTC that you will be readily offered a window seat, and one is tempted to remark 'Aah! Dilwaalon ki Dilli!', but let me assure you, there's absolutely no affection in that act. Twenty years since I came here, I still cant figure out why that happens.

Although the DTC does test your patience sometimes with its absurdly slow speeds and the now-pretty-common rude drivers, more often that not, its worth the wait. For one, it is usually on time, people are slightly better-mannered inside it (another of those inexplicable things!), it doesn't wait till eternity at every bus stop and you are assured to read your destination smoothly. It also gives you that old-world feeling - this is tough to describe and has to be experienced.

My most memorable experiences of travelling in the DTCs have happened in the U-specials during College days. From carefully slipping into it without getting noticed by the seniors during ragging in first year to applauding the lone guitarist strumming away in the mornings during winter - travelling in the Special is just that - special.

That the organisation has been running on huge losses for the last God-knows-how-many years is a pity. I strongly believe that the charges for bus passes, especially for students, should be doubled to start with.

The latest addition to it fleet is the High capacity bus. After a controversial start, it is now running smoothly in South and Central Delhi, with extensions towards East. The buses look good, some are air-conditioned, normal fare is charged and the journey is really comfortable.

All in all, one public service that Delhiites should be proud of. Hats off!

On modern ACs and their salesmen!

2008-05-27T20:58:00.000-07:00

Overheard in an electronics showroom:

Customer: So you tell me that this air-conditioner is the latest and the best. Does it give out Chlorofluorocarbons?

Salesman: Madam, yeh sab tarah ke carbon deta hai, isme sab kuchch inbuilt hai, fully automatic hai, aap ko kuchch karne ki zaroorat nahin hai....

God bless the salesman!

A survival machine's reflections

2008-05-15T23:22:00.000-07:00

I write this after reading a chapter of Richard Dawkins' bestseller titled 'The Selfish Gene'. The first two chapters are breathtaking and I guess more posts will follow.

Dawkins starts the second chapter of his book by referring to the hitherto unsolved mystery of the origin of life. He cleverly hooks on to results of experiments that point out the presence of four compounds in the early universe - water, carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane. How these came about is altogether another mystery. Amino acids, purines and pyrimidines have been found as the predominant products of subjecting a mixture of the above-mentioned compounds to electric spark. This gives us some idea of how complex molecules could have evolved.

Dawkins speaks about stable molecules and defines three parameters of stability - longevity, fecundity and accuracy of replication. Oh! Before this this he also gives birth to the idea of replicator molecules - smart molecules seemingly created by a stroke of luck that can multiply. Then he describes how these replicators (could be of more than on kind due to errors in replication) compete for their building blocks. In this struggle for survival, they discover means of attack and defence. Attack - by cleaving the bonds between constituent building blocks of a different (rival?) replicator; and defence - by developing a protective coat around itself - the most primitive survival machine. With time, replicators developed better methods of attack, survival machines became complex and life evolved.

Genes are the modern day replicators, you and me and all forms of life on earth are mere survival machines programmed to behave according to the wishes of our double hellical masters!

Remarks: Interesting thought! It never struck me that we living beings were utterly powerless.. but who is this 'we'? If the replicator inside you and me is our supreme ruler and dictates every action of ours, are we any different from it?