the mending wall.

I have been thinking about it for a while. Initially it was intriguing, then it just got tiring and now I know I that I might have to face it everyday, so I am slowly learning to ignore it.

I find people very interesting, they have managed to sustain my interest for the past two decades.
When I say people, I am not talking about the ones, that are popular or charming, or the ones who's lives unfold conspicuously, to be watched by the rest of us. I am talking of those, who take great pains, go to great extents, to with-hold their true selves. In the game of hide and seek, the seeker always goes for the hidden person, the game does not end till the latter has been revealed; never mind even if 9 out of ten people have come out in the open; the seeker still pursues the missing one. I think its inherent human nature, to want to know, to dig till you uncover that which has managed to successfully elude you for so long.
But I dig for different reasons - I am not as interested in what it is that is being hidden, as much as why it is being hidden. Does it reflect something about the individual, they are afraid might tarnish their image, is it fear from having to confront demons from the past , is it because they fear that it might present a less-likeable side to their character? (rather what is perceived as their character). I can never say which one of these it is.
But it does tell us that we build our own barriers, doesn't it ? We build those fences, then sit tight and wonder, why no one's getting through. We fear that if we break those fences, no one would be interested in coming through. Then where would that leave us, confirming our biggest fears and insecurities. Instead, we choose to not give anyone a chance, so that even if some one did care enough to make a stop, he/she would see the clear sign, and move on.
I know this for sure, coz I have been there, at one point, I refused to move outside my comfort zone, which included just me, I got away with it, convincing myself that I was happy. I donot exactly remember if I was happy or not, but I can say for sure, that I wasnt confident. Confident that I would be able to get across to people, that I could make some one care for me, like I cared for them. I feared that it might end up a one-way ticket and all I would have left with me were regrets.
But then, I went to this summer camp, and things changed. I met people, who did not seem to care, who constantly moved out of their comfort zones, by that, I mean who constantly made a fool of themselves. Eventually, all that everyone remembered was that it was fun. Those who passed judgments were always those who remained on the by-lanes; never a part of anything.
Now I am a different person. I acknowledge the fact that I like to be liked, that there will always be people who judge you, for what you are and for what you are NOT. No matter what anyone says or thinks, my best judge is me alone, no one knows me better than I do. I might play games with myself, but deep down, I know who I am. I am still learning, to walk like no one's watching, sing like no one's listening, for, the ones that hold up to listen, are the ones you need not worry about. They will always be there ;)
The barrier is still there, though I have managed to give it a good shake, cracking it up. Soon its gonna come crumbling down.. ye baby !
Reminds me of one of my fav poems by robert frost;

"Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

sr

science

has science really done as much good as we think it has ? is it as indispensable to our lives, as we perceive it to be ? And no, I donot want to rant about the pros or cons of how science has influenced our lives. I merely look upon it as a tool; a tool that man has made for himself, to keep him occupied, to keep him from getting bored; to put it across bluntly.
But unlike so many of our other hobbies, I wonder if we have something to learn from this one.
I am not talking about the deeper understanding of life or its origins or even its betterment, that science has provided us with. I am thinking of something far more simplistic than that.
Awe.
I cannot think of any better suited word. Even today, when I look up at the sky, and see stars shining, I am in awe. What are the chances that amongst so many planets in the galaxy, one of them supports life, intelligent life. This might sound ridiculous, but I do feel awed when I see greys anatomy, when out of 10 lives that doctors try to save, one of them works out. Ya its fiction, but doesnt this happen in hospitals all over the world. One wing has the dying while the other has people/doctors responding, to even the smallest signs of life returning; the tiniest movement of one finger, the shortest flickering of eye-lids and so on.. And both wings, have their own forms of joy. The dying, leave behind a world of memories, most of which are sadly treasured only after their death. While the return of life, its re-birth, is always applauded, cheered. And yet science has taught us that, death cannot be conquered, delayed yes but not won over. Most importantly, science, has always, been by the side of the questioning mind. In an ocean of darkness, fuelled by ignorance and pseudo-science( as carl sagan puts it), science has always been a beacon guiding those who choose to be guided by it. there is nothing in science, that would make your question look stupid or dumb. All science asks in return for your question, is an infectious curiosity, to know and an undying spirit, to learn and unlearn. Science is the only kind of beauty, that does not lie in the eyes of its beholder. The kind that comes with out a price. The kind that just becomes more and more addictive, as you dig deeper. The kind that can only be appreciated if shared, not secretly hidden, or fought over, bt shared. You can never own it, and yet feel like it belonged to you :)
What really awes me about science, is that it teaches you to appreciate not only what you know, but what you donot/cannot know given the resources.
there is so much that science has taught me, that I cannot compress it all in one blog. to me, true wealth is, that legacy, which can be passed on from generation to generation. Science, and the awe that it leaves with its beholder, is definitely something I want to pass on to my children. For as long as life can be, it is truly the breath-taking, awe-inspring movements, that life is "lived" in.
Amen.

Insignificant nothings.

I have been wanting to write this post for a while. Nothing really important. Its usually the small and trivial things that tend to stay with me as time passes by, it scares me sometimes, I donot want to miss the bigger picture. But I cant help remembering the things that I do :)
It was a sunday morning, on my way back from wegmans. Just one of those routine sundays, which I reserve for grocery shopping, laundry and other worldy duties. They actually make me feel good, gives me a sense of purpose. I really do feel like i am doing something, apart from whiling away time on the random pursuit of a phd which might eventually get me no where. Ok I digress. I was returning home in this cab and there is this small stream or rivulet which the cab usually passes by on the way back. Its a really nice neighbourhood, the ones that you would find in an enid blyton classic (yes i love the secret seven and famous five !), small houses with frontyards and picket fences, sometimes you might get a glimpse of a tiny tree house, little kids playing ball in the frontyard. The sound of water, a light breeze and laughter. You dont find those very often these days ! I was smiling quietly to myself as we passed by this house with a little girl and boy playing basket ball in the yard. They would have been around 5-7 yrs of age. As it often happens in that age, the ball seldom goes where you want it to (i find it kinda cute actually ;) and in this case the ball landed on the other side of the road near the stream. And the little girl stood looking at it , with a confused look, as if the ball had a mind of its own. At this point the cabbie stopped the car, I think both of us wanted to see what she would do next. Before she could run across, the little boy (her brother i presume) shouted out to her, telling her to not cross the road and he would get the ball for her. I found it so adorable, especially the way he looked out for her. At that age, crossing a busy road, is dangerous enough, for some one aged 7 and I am certain they had been advised against it, as evident from the scene. So the boy offering to do it, (yes doesnt exactly make it a huge sacrifice) but he knew that he did not want her to do it ! I loved seeing the way he was watching out for her, when the parents are not around. the boy displaying not affection but something much more than that, the need to protect his little sister, is not wat i expected to see considering he was just 7! Yes i think we learn to love quickly, and give it up easily too (in most cases for the wrong reasons!). I donot want to philosophise and neither do I think the boy is a knight in shining armour, bt yes, i donot believe that knights come in shining armours, they are mostly disguised in the small acts or things that are said, which one often fails to take note of.
I was a happy girl that day, and yes the world is a happy place to be in. wheeeeeeeee :D

25 random things

hmm saw this facebook tag.. and since its been a while i posted.. this gives me a good reason to break that gap..
1. I love Red... absolutely anything in Red would be grabbed by me.
2. I am not a very brand-conscious person.. as long as it fits the purpose i am not too concerned about who it is named after..
3. I am a complete sucker for books.. a bibliophile. I could sit down with a cup of coffee and a book any place, any time.
4. i love coffee. i am one of those weird ppl who can be both put to sleep or made to stay awake by a cup of coffee.
5. this is far more difficult than i thought it would be.
6. i love train-travelling in india.. the fact that i get to meet complete strangers , "hang-out" with them and actually get away wit having some fun.
7. i like talking to myself. i love the company unquestionably, and no strings attached. seriously its worth a try !
8. patrick dempsey is hot.
9. i love my mothers cooking. there is no substitute for it. may be its the louwe :P
10. i love random night walks. in fact thats how i got to know my best-friend cum boy.
11. i love to dream. be it day or night. one of the reasons i seldom get bored.
12. i have very few friends, bt ones that i can call anytime of the night or day, to ask the most hideously ridiculous questions.
13. as weird as it sounds, i love to see boy walk. its one of those few things i ve unconsciously loved(as of now.)
14. gosh i cant believe i still have 11 more to go !
15. i love chit-chatting with my dad. the most mundane topics turn out interesting.
16. i prefer the quiet to the fun and popular. their stories are so much more interesting.
17. i do late-nights a lot. and glad, boy does too. just cant imagine myself with a morning bird.
18. i love shopping for ear-rings. i never have enough ! i dont like to deck up much, but ear-rings are something i pick after considerable deliberation.
19. i donot believe in the concept of honeymoon. i love hanging out with boy, donot need a reason or an occasion.
20. i am reallly bad with directions. i cannot give the cabbie directions to my place from the department and know i never will, in the future.
21. some day i want to write a book.
22. nothing like a hard cider, or vodka-tonic, after a long week. do not have a thing for fancy drinks.
23. my latest craze is weight-loss(and for good reason too!;)
24. i find it difficult to study with out music.
25. as geeky as this sounds, i am glad this is The End. really need to get back to organometallics!

The post without a title .....

This post does not have a title. Not because I have run out of ideas or creative titles, but because not a single title I can think of, encompasses or represents what I am yet to say. Some times life just leaves you with spaces, and you realize you have no more colors to fill them with.
They say the most unadulterated form of love is that which a mother has for her child. They say that the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. and when that love becomes adulterated, the world gets shattered. Fair enough.
Success, I am told, is a culmination of several factors, like hard work, continued persistent effort, market forces, upbringing and cultural legacy. But really, it is nothing to do with these. Eventually it boils down to, whom you love and who you are loved by. Sounds corny isn't it ?
I know this man, who has worked day and night, not for days or weeks but for over 15 yrs, to provide for his family, his parents.. to give his children the best possible education, but more than providing them with the best opportunities, he has himself served as an example of continued dedication for a cause he believed in, his principles guiding the children unwaveringly through out their lives, seeing them through their ups and downs. He gave up his job, and career, to take care of his aging parents, back home. The transition proved more difficult than he thought, he learnt to give in, value his parent's sentiments more than what he stood for.
But life is seldom smooth,right? Just when you think things are going fine, life decided to give him the first and (probably) the last blow. It gave a whole new meaning to "parents" and made him question their "love" for him. He is still duty-bound, but defeat is just 'round the corner.
Where has he gone wrong, I cannot tell. Some times even the most perfectly fit jigsaw puzzles need to be scrambled, de-cluttered, to give way to new ones.
He is trying to move on, the past catches up at times and at other times, the burden becomes unbearable. I cannot tell you how much it pains me to see him through this. Not because he is in pain, but because life seems to have hit the totally wrong person this time. The math of it, is just above me.
I fervently hope, coz hope is all that I can do, hope that there is a new and a better meaning to this, the slate has been empty for too long, I hope the end, makes the means worthy.

Language as a barrier.... ?

In the past 23 yrs of my life, I have lived in 4 countries. I have friends with contrasting backgrounds, cultures and faiths. In fact when it comes to friendship, one's nationality or belief, hardly matters. At least in my case, what has mattered, is the chord I have been able to strike with the other half. Off late I have noticed that one of the main elements of an effective communication; the Language, has often been convoluted in its purpose for coming into being. Why would we need a language ? - so that we can convey our ideas effectively, most importantly, in order to communicate. However unfortunate as it may seem, many exploit the Language as a means to bond with people. As long as the other person understands you, your beliefs and there is some common understanding between two people, I do not see how either side's native language matters? But I have seen so many people who were otherwise nice / sensible (what ever you choose to call it), but when it comes to good friends, they would choose to be in the company of people who were only from a similar state/nation/city/(needless to say who shared the same native language) as they. I have been in the company of such people, and I find it intriguing, because at times, the only thing these folks share, is their language. Yes I agree, there are certain things peculiar to a certain language, things that lose their beauty/effect once translated. However I do not see how or why language, meant to be a bridge, is used to build fences. Sometimes its good to glorify your culture, your life-styles, however, when the same come in the way of your accepting others and their differences, it is time to move on. One's growth is often associated with academics/achievements, however I firmly believe that your growth as an individual, lies in these small issues that characterize you, beliefs that you stand up for, your principles/convictions and most importantly, your ability to accept people for what they are, rather than question their identity. Yes disagreements arise, not everyone might come up to your standards, not everyone might be able to appreciate your culture/history, as well as your fellow-men, however those friends are definitely worthy of you, who care for you despite these differences, be it cultural/belief-wise. It is easy to associate with people, who share a common background, not much of an effort is required to interact with such people, however when you are able to strike a chord with those from a different background than your own, I think it is important to cherish that relationship.
I am one of those few people who believe that differences can be used to bridge rather than break. After all isn't variety the spice of life! ;)

arbit expressions

sadness creeps in as imperceptibly as the dusk that fades into darkness, without even leaving a trace of its existence behind, and yet, as gradually as ever. do the final rays of dusk, carry any hope? or do they promise a false sense of hope? something that all of us need to move on. Is everything really what we choose to make out of it?
What happens if the boat sinks just when the shore comes into view? does that fall under success or failure? do varying shades of grey exist? Does there have to be joy behind every laugh? Why pay for fake flowers when we get real ones? May be the ever-lasting freshness of the fake ones (irrespective of how much ever fake they are) is appealing, real flowers will eventually wilt, and it will be time to move on again.
How ever fast you move, the past does catch up. Deeply-buried questions have an uncanny tendency of rising up at the most unexpected moments. A pleasing exterior but one which is shallow from within, is no different from a shadow. Acceptance is important, however, the truth can never be ignored for long, it does show up, and leave one stranded, yet, its a short road that takes one to the joys of being a bystander.

There is nothing like returning...

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered... I will definitely want to go back to leeds at some point in future..though there's no guarantee it would not have changed, however, I will still want to see if and how it has changed, and how my perspectives have changed over the years, it will make me conscious of the "growing up" process I guess, which as of now, seems very nebulous to me;).. That one year has taught me so much, I will want to take a walk down the memory lane in a truly physical sense. Its like the bystander watching himself take the course he once did, that eventually brought him to the spot hes now arrived at. Most of us like to carry the pleasant memories from our experiences, but I presume such a visit, would help me take a detached look at the reasons and the general process of change that took place with in me, which forms an elemental aspect of my identity, at the present.
The green meadow from my bedroom window, the fading highway lights in the distance, which at that point symbolised the contours of that which was known to me then, hyde park, the newspaper stand opposite the school of chemistry, and the walk to my favorite cafe, past the park.. all this forms a quintessential part of my time in leeds. But when I look back at it, there was some thing more to this, more than just these elements, I guess, its probably because all of them have seen me through my ups and downs, the best and the worst, the person in me that grew confident and independent, having this awareness of how being "me" has changed after the time spent in leeds.
Yes I think would echo that There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered... for isn't life all about the journey we take and the person we turn out to be when we think we have arrived at our destinations :)

Mind-blockers

Have you ever been faced with a situation where you get to know this person and gel in well as you dig deeper and deeper. And when everything is going smooth, and you actually want to take another step forward, there come path blockers !? Some trivial issue, that happens, starting as something small, but eventually ends up gnawing its way into a major chunk of your time?
This has happened with me, not once, but twice. And you actually begin to wonder, if the person is what you think they are, if its a one-way ticket you have got yourself into, or if the situation brings you together, but no amount of time/efforts can actually endow a future to the relationship?
Are these signs that are meant to be or, am I complicating it? As the music and lyrics song goes, I am unable to see the stars in the sky, they aren't shining bright enough and yet, I need a way back into love.
I am glad that I have two people whom I can share everything with, who know me in an unadulterated sense, that only those few special people can know you. The world and more importantly success, for me would not be the same if I did not have these two folks to share it with. I know that how much ever I want to be alone, at any point, I still secretly yearn for these two people to be with me, for a shoulder to lean on. I guess all of us are like that. I might want to be by myself to collect my thoughts, but once done, I will definitely want to share it with both of them. It helps me clear up, rejuvenate and most importantly, know that I am loved and missed.

One hot summer afternoon....

As I looked for means to kill time, I stumbled upon this blog titled “Regrets”, which seemed to arouse an interest in my philosophically bent, (and utterly bored mind). Unfortunately, sleep is something that tags along, on the mention of a humid, summer afty. However, sleep, in this case, had managed to completely evade the seeker, and it is, but unfortunate, that I have not been endowed with the talent of catnapping.

And so, as my hungry eyes, searched for anything soporific (if not intellectually stimultating!) they came across the book titled “Screw It, Lets do It !”. Ahaaa.. sounds like a definite good bye to my ever-so faithful ennui! Now this is when, esnips becomes a god-sent gift, for financially challenged students (saying students is not self-evident apparently!;) like me, definitely, do not consider “buying” a plausible circumstance;) (who says knowledge is free!?)

For those ignorants ! (yes I am exercising my right to freedom of speech;), I am actually quite tempted to say “Hail ye ignorants!”,(see how bored one can get ?!), however, I refrain, for saying so, would provide the nicest possible excuse for You to yescape (in true vivek ishtyle, although am too lazy to type so many a’s :P). Ok, cutting short the circuitous prose, the author of this book happens to be Richard Branson, the founder of the Virgin Group (Virgin airlines, rail, mobile and so on… ).

Having been almost half-way through the book, I can assure you,that the book does not add on to the pile of self-improvement prophecies published everyday (that sooo often claim to be otherwise, in fact I have heard they are coming up with a How To Sleep while watching your Eyelids, one as well)…. Fortunately, Richard does not tell his readers what to do, BUT what has worked for him. He also makes it quite clear that he’s been lucky a couple of times, in his most life-threatening endeavours.. where most of the other authors rule out the possibility of luck and wholly focus on hard work, I appreciate the fact that Richard, does accept, not all is in our hands.

Calculative risks, challenges, responsibilities, smart planning and living life to the fullest, are some things I have picked up from this book. Regrets, ofcourse, an essential part of life, something that reminds us of what all we might have lost, if we had not regretted the past and treated the present as a “present” !;)

But the most important thing I have picked up from this book, is none of the above.

One of the reasons I foresee my future in a pharma firm (JUST one of the reasons !), is that we often need something tangible , to assess our worth, and ofcourse, for personal satisfaction as well. Sometimes, the quest for truth or knowledge is JUST not enough. I agree that an academic career pursuing research is very intellectually rewarding, but at the end of a tiresome day, with nothing worthy to be titled “RESULTS”, phrases like “quest for truth”, remain exactly that ; mere phrases. And so I thought, that a position as a research scientist in a pharma, would not only allow me to carry on research(commercial, but so what?), but provide a financial tangibility to the job. Before you mistake this as a hidden passion for money-making, I must tell you I have never really had any inclination towards making fortunes, nor has it ever thrilled me. However, it would just form a good take home package, when on those blue days, I have nothing to derive from the job.

Richard however, has shattered all such ideas. “If something stops being fun, donot do it anymore!”, seems to be the explicitly highlighted motto of his book. The void created by any activity can never be filled in by “money”, it is something that just comes along, but not, something one must seek, as a sole source of contentment. Money-seekers, never reach their destinations ! I have learnt to segregate, the remuneration, from what I would love to do, irrespective of what I would get back. And neither does money add purpose or meaning to what we do. It IS purchasing power, but never something to be purchased, in return for ones contentment and self-deprivation.

The prospect of joining a pharma still interests me, but one of the reasons for doing so has now ceased to exist !

Majority Wins !

I have been studying barrons for the gre exam coming up in November. Its quite strange, but I have not been able to find the word “real” in barrons, nor “reality”.

I could call this jet lag, or just a compulsive need to pen down my thoughts, but the truth remains, that barrons has decided to omit the word “real” from their word list. I presume this is because, anyone would knw what real or reality meant or atleast in the context they could be used. But considering my modest command over English language, I desire to knw what exactly does real mean? Something that exists? Ahh.. I have a short incident or rather a projection of my mind, to quote regarding “things that exist” :D

I enter a restaurant with a friend and seek a table for two. As we sit chit-chatting, waiting for our coffee to be served, I look across my friend, at a table behind her. There is a beautiful vase placed at the center of this table, the painting on the vase somehow catches my eye. It has an abstract painting on its circular surface, yet, it had this power to make you look at it for a second time, forcing you to think about what it resembled. It was thought-provoking, at the same time, blended well with the aura prevailing in the restaurant. I asked my friend to have a look at it while I summoned the waiter to ask him how about our coffee. To my surprise my friend asked me which vase I was talking about. I again pointed it out to her, and somehow, it looked like it was invisible. I tried to assure my friend that she needed to get her eyes checked. However, she remained unconvinced and asked the waiter for his opinion of the vase, and to my astonishment, the waiter, too, seemed to have the same response as my friend. My curiosity was piqued, and I summoned the restaurant manager, to enquire about the vase. He, too, refused to acknowledge the presence of the vase. I put it this way, as I still believe that the vase was present. Yet, what seemed so real, so physical, to me, was non-existent to everyone else.

I did not want to look like my mind had gone for a toss, so I resorted to sipping my coffee in silence. But my mind was in turmoil and on the way back, I decided to tip over the vase. Surely no one could miss the noise it makes, on hitting the ground. However, not a single eye in the restaurant, turned to look at what I had done, or the source of the noise.

Isnt it strange? That vase was and still continues to remain my favourite. But more importantly, I have come to accept the fact that, reality and truth, are restricted to individual perspective. Each one of us lives in our own circle of reality. The degree of reality in anything is governed by how many actually believe that reality. The same goes with truth. In some cases, there is a scientific explanation to supplant each ones reality. For instance, in the case of color-blindness, those afflicted with this disorder (I donot like calling it a disorder- lets just call it a “frame-shift reality”!!) cannot perceive the colors red and green in the rainbow. They donot see any difference between the two colors, while for “ordinary” people like us, these are two of the most eye-catching colors of the rainbow. For the former, these are just two names, two words, that lack any sense or a mental picture. However, in this case science has an explanation for this difference. The same amount of truth that exists in my perception of these two colors, exists, in their non-existence. I find this fascinating and yet intriguing! When something is real, it is only because some else’s reality coincides with ours. Unfortunately this is one such debate that is governed by the number of supporters for each side! Majority ofcourse wins!

But does that mean that the vase has ceased to exist for me... naaaaaaaaaaaaah. I just pity the rest of them, for missing out on one of the most beautiful pieces of artefact man has created. And I walk out of the restaurant believing, “Reality and not beauty-lies in the beholders eye!”.

sun....snow.. and some ramblings..

I haven't blogged for quite some time.. some things aren't worth writing, and some things are better not written.. some times i have learnt its better to keep ones thoughts to one self.. they have a way of getting diffused and appearing much more important than they really are, once noted. Its like giving them an identity, accepting that they are there...that they are a part of you....

As you may have guessed.. my thoughts fall in the second category.. things that i have been fearing and continue to fear.. unfortunately things that i have no control over... its quite practical to say, "then what is the point pondering over such things".. but alas the mind is never where the heart is !

Fears.. a word that is of a quintessential nature to the definition of a human... we not only have fears but also fear that making our fears evident would in turn expose our vulnerability to the outside world... weakness is what they call it.. and ofcourse most fears are irrational or revolve around things we would have no control over.. if they were so rational i am sure we would have been able to get rid of them, as easily as wrapping up a sudoku grid..! as you may have surmised, i have fears too like every one else out there... and the one nasty thing about fears is their habit of creeping up in the most unlikely of places, of slowly rising in magnitude upto a point when you feel your head could burst and the beans come spilling out.. and so i decided i may as well blog..!
Its definitely not a quick remedy nor is it even meant to serve that purpose.. but its just one way of accepting my fears, of accepting the "me" that houses these fears.. may be its the way i choose to be for the moment.. but i think the acceptance in itself, is one step forward.. !

Being ambitious myself, I have learnt to live in the future, the concept of present having vanished.. But this is something I have chosen for myself, goals that I have set, not in a mechanical sense, I still do continue to enjoy and take pleasure in my work, however, dreaming so much about the future, has ensued in me forgetting to live this moment.. now is the time spent in achieving something for "later".. I think this realization scares me.. I feel that some how I would end up fading away and go unnoticed. Not that I am paranoid about recognition, but the loss of a tiny drop from the large ocean is seldom noticed..

So there.. a part of the beans have been spilt... but I think I have learnt a lot after coming to Amsterdam.. from people, from their attitudes and from life in general.. Elucidation of this will take another blog !..

Choices, mistakes and life....

All of us make mistakes. It is quite impossible for anyone to go through life without committing mistakes. What matters, is not what mistakes we make, or what it reflects about us/our nature,
what matters, is what those mistakes cost us. Sometimes, learning from a mistake is the only consolation one can get, but it continues to remain what it is meant to be; a consolation, just a feel-good factor, and then life moves on.
Each of us, have been faced with making difficult choices, at some point of time in our lives. What makes them difficult to choose from, is not what these choices represent, but the uncertainty that tags along with both of them. As we walk down the road we chose, we learn that it becomes impossible to retrace our steps, not due to any lack of opportunities, but because, each road leads on to something new, by the time we look back , we realise that too many paths have crossed. To undo them, would take more from us, than proceeding down the road we chose, once upon a time.
And eventually, it is these choices, that determine, who we are and what we are looked upon as. Which is a pity, considering the gamble that we were forced to play initially.
Fortunately for me, I am, happy with the journey so far. Problems have cropped in here and there, but looking at the larger picture, what matters is i am content with how far i have come.
But what i fear now, is not having to make these choices, but being thrust with accepting what the plate has to offer. And none of these sides is greener than the other. the biggest lesson i have learnt from life so far, is that life is fair to all. We all lose and we all win. unfortunately, its our expectations that eventually categorizes our victory and loss. And having said that, I have my own fair share of aspirations. I fear that the delicate thread that connects my present, and the future I have always dreamt off, will be cut off, in a span of few minutes. Unfortunately, working for the future, and living my dream has inter-twined so much with my identity, that I fear I would be shattered. I know that life would move on, but in most cases the past catches up.
Reconciliation is not a way out, somewhere down the line, I must acknowledge, under what terms I have lost and under what terms I have emerged the winner. these terms donot juxtapose under any circumstances. So i will never know, winning under which one of these terms, would have made me happier.
In any case, I alone lose and I alone win, everyone else, even those who genuinely love us, remain mere spectators. But what hurts the most, is that no one, absolutely no one, can understand this fear. Eventually, life has a way of showing you, what singular can mean in the real context. Those who love you, dream along with you, but it started with you, and you alone will endure the loss. Shoulders are always offered to cry upon, but no amount of tears can erase what has been written on the score card.
Eventually those who love you, are reduced to witnesses of what you go through, and you remain the sole recipient of life's blows (and ofcourse kisses!). What I mean to say, is that your experiences, remain your own, sharing does not lessen its impact on you. No two people, travel the same path, even if they travel together. Individuality always prevails. And the why's and the how's of this is something I have no answer to.

Sometimes life blossoms in the most unlikely places. Sometimes, actually in most cases, life does not originate with the birth of the person. I think it comes and goes in spurts, in the form of those fleeting moments that pass as quickly as they come by. And then you are just left with those memories.
And so, as i said, my rendevouz with life occured in a cemetry, with no witnesses but myself and ofcourse, the dead. She was there, right beside the huge banyan tree, small, but noticeable; well atleast to my eyes. For me, the banyan tree was like a refuge, with its open, ever-embracing arms - its cool soothing shade, with just a few streaks of warm sunlight, that were permitted to penetrate through the thick foliage of leaves. I often sat beneath it, to collect my thoughts, and let them wander, to some place far and distant, with no constraints of time, nothing to care for...
And that was when my gaze fell upon her, new to this world and her ways, inexperienced, unassuming, and ofcourse, a very subtle shade of pink. She was not very conspicuous, but that was because she blended so well in the surroudings, another traveller like me, just sitting down for a bit, to see the world and all her people rushing by, afraid to stop, not because they would be left behind, but afraid of their loneliness, of all those thoughts that tend to furtively seep in, when you have nothing to do, yet you know that by moving on, you would not accomplish anymore than you already have, as long as you keep the why's and how's submerged beneath the confident surface.
As i looked down at her, i knew, we would be travelling together from now on, and in the gentle breeze, she gradually bent towards me, as if hesitantly offering her hand of friendship, and in that instant, I knew we understood each other. As i look back on this moment, I realise there was no witness to this special bond, and yet, there was the banyan tree. Its over-bearing long trunks peering right over us, its very presence infusing reality into the commencement of this relationship, and for once, the silence that surrounded us, bridged us, strengthening, rather than mitigating the lapse of communication.
We would meet every sunday, under the watchful gaze of the banyan tree, and time froze in her presence and yet, it felt like i was leading two different lives; constantly waging a war with time, on all those sundays, trying to grab as much time as possible from its clutches. The second time I had gone to meet her, I took a single rose with me. I obviously had not bought it. Of what use was a rose for our non-verbal relationship. I had found it lying along the road side. Somehow it caught my attention due to the strong smell and i decided to take it to the banyan.
And one fine day, all of a sudden, the roots of our relation were shaken up; the banyan tree was struck down, leaving me the entire responsibility of taking care of her. Actually, that was not my foremost concern. The banyan tree was more than just a witness, it was like a place of solace, there was something about its comforting cool ground, a comfort that couldnot be afforded by any emollient. It was as if the roots would reach out to me, and absorb all my problems, and the shade would somehow cleanse me, it was refreshing and rejuvenating. I would then stand up to leave after a few hours, ready to start the next week.
With the loss of the banyan tree, I was afraid, the essence of our relationship would be uprooted too. There was a huge void left, where those long arms bound us together, we were wrapped in oblivion then.
As if this were not enough, the scorching sunlight, began to burn her, it was symbolic of the harsh reality lashing out at us, and thats when i noticed, how far we had come. Somehow i never noticed how quickly she had blossomed, and grown out of it too. Now her youth was a thing of the past, leaving behind its shadows. Her beauty now came across to me as serene and yet there was a certain impish touch to it, that gleam which shun from her, as we thought of this relationship and how it began, hidden from society's eyes.
Gradually I became aware of the impending fork in the road. I knew i had to let her go, to where ever it was she was going. I would eventually go there too, but somehow the journey seemed so long without her, that I didn't think I could make it. Was this love? I didn't know. I didn't want to know. So at the end of it, I too had to move on with memories, like all others. Why do all good things feel ephemeral? I knew the answers, but somehow, in the absence of the banyan tree, these very answers failed to soothe me. And the silence now ,only wedged between us, i implored her to say something, but i knew that words would only tarnish the beauty of our relationship, reducing it to something that could only be seen and heard, never felt. So I retreated back into silence. When I could not bear the silence anymore, I stopped meeting her, though I knew she would always be waiting for me, no matter how much time i took to understand. I too began to move ahead like the rest of them. But life was never the same. and i did not want to accept this. Some where along the way, i had started making demands, started to expect that what i dreamt would definitely take form, turning a blind eye to the fact that my life lay in each of those moments i spent with her.
As time took its toll on me as well, i decided to go back there, one last time. I think i needed to reassure myself that she was no longer there, but there was this small nagging hope that she would still be there, waiting for me, with no questions, as always. And this time, I bought a single rose. I donot know why i did it. But it was on an impulse.
As i reached the cemetry, i saw that things had not changed a bit, atleast the things that didnot matter. There was still that empty disconcerting spot, reminiscent of the fact that I felt the same. nothing could possibly fill the void. There was no point in even trying. I held the rose tightly, as if that was the only thread of connection between the present and the past. The same thread, began to pull me towards the vacant spot. I decided that the longer I spent, the harder it would be leave the place with its memories. I left the rose on the ground and quickly left without a second glance.
On the way back, I decided to take a different route this time, after all, there were no longer any shackles now, I was my own master and servant. I sat down by the river side and splashed some water on my face. As i did this, the fragarance of the rose i had just left behind, emanated from my hands. Irrespective of the number of ablutions, the fragrance still clung to my hands.
And it was then that the realisation dawned on me that, i had no control over certain things in life, i may not even have control over where i eventually end up, our paths may not have converged, our final destinations may never coincide, but what i did have a control over, was what i felt for her. i still did not know what love was, but my feelings for her were eternal, love is just a name we give, may be for convinience sake. But those feelings only deepened with the passage of time, they gradually made me return to where life actually came into being (for me). I have lost the rose, may be for ever, she could be picked up by someone else now, and thereby get passed on from one to another, but the fragrance still clung to my hands. My feelings did arise with her, the banyan, the breeze and the silence, bearing witness to this, but it was not something that was given to me, it was something that arose within and will remain a part of me till i perish. She is a memory, but what i feel for her, continues to grow with me. I have stopped searching for her, have stopped yearning for her.
I have learnt to live those moments again, though the intermittent gaps between them keeps growing, i know that what is within me, may continue to exist after i have gone....somewhere a banyan still breathes, with its protective arms still awaiting my visit, the gentle breeze slowly causes her to bend, slight, ever so slight, that i must rush, rush to her offer of friendship.....

sex

"sex".... not a particularly catchy title for a blog isnt it? atleast not in the positive connotation ;)
its generally looked upon, as something hushed up within the four walls of a bedroom, in most traditional indian families. but, the world changes, people change, what used to be, never is.
and then came something condemnable, something not spoken of in any august occasion, something elders say is a shame to the inherent goodness in any man.....prostitution.

Prostitutes - a living example of the fact that there are two sides to a story, the other side of the "happily ever after"... rather "happily never after". I think prostitutes are one of the few classes of people looked upon differently by different people. To an old man, who after faithfully serving his wife for thirty years is now on his death bed, prostitution is one of those sins, rather the only sin that completely demolishes a soul, denigrates it to such an extent, that no amount of penitence can bring back your dignity. To a middle aged married man, who appears to head a perfectly happy family, the prostitute would be an option, probably the last, but definitely an option, that would fulfil his needs, without asundering his family. It is like a one time down payment, quickly accomplished and forgotten. To the philosophers and writers, prostitutes have always been an enigma, their very presence serves to taint the divinity of sex, and hence, very often their living, has centered many discussions, controversies on what sex really is, if it is solely meant to be purposeful or something more?

Prostitutes unfortunately fall in that grey area no one wants to fray into. Its easier to segregate life and everyone in it, into white and black isnt it? No questions asked and hence none remain unanswered.
All I want to attempt to do right now is to just take a peep into that grey area, not to see the rights and wrongs of it, but the undercurrent of life that prevails in them. I have read a few articles, and heard several debates about the spiritual aspect of sex - the ultimate pleasure that comes out of the unison of two souls. Being a scientist, to me it is awe-inspiring that such a simple physical act, can generate "life", in one of its simplest, yet most amazing forms- a single cell, the zygote! How the zygote turns into one of the most complex organisms in the entire animal kingdom is yet another story. But this generation of life, in as little time as a few milliseconds, continues to intrigue me, as it is the only life-generating natural processes man goes through in his lifecycle. Rather not just man, any animal. The creation of new life, life that is going to persist, prevail and perpetuate. The capabilities of the human mind, never fail to surprise me, they seem to be rising with every passing day, but in my opinion, nothing can equal the creation of new life, cells capable of self-replication, blooming into a fully developed mature individual. And then one day, you look back, and you say.. ahh did i make that?!! whatever be the quality of the final product, a certain amount of pride is always part of the resultant emotion isnt it? And so it is not surprising that, such a physical act, that adds on a new dimension to life, should be made use of as a trade, something that can be bought and sold. It is reduced to a mere commodity, that often comes cheap, depending on the circumstances.
It definitely leaves a bitter feeling isnt it. In fact the mere thought of this invokes such a stinging bitterness, that am convinced, it cannot escape those very much involved in perpetrating the act. Sometimes I think, all of us have it in us to commit mistakes, culpable, severely punishable, and it boils down to just how much each of us are pushed beyond the edge, when we loose all discretion, and just do the things that seem to serve as a vent for our frustrations and depressions. always living to regret it. sometimes the things that push us, are expectations, sometimes its our own dreams, sometimes its the realisation that some else is going to make it faster than you, and sometimes its just the need to live, to get enough money to feed yourself, so that you can wake up the next day, and be a part of the living world, that unfortunately continues to move on, irrespective of whether you move with it or not.
I have seldom heard people mention this, but prostitution isnt a decision, it isnt a choice, well even if it is, its a very unbalanced choice between living and dying, how you choose to earn a living, is obviously secondary to the fact that you actually want to live.
And when buyers exist, the commodity never ceases to perish. What gives rise to these buyers is an entirely different issue, but what matters is they exist and hence the demand. Its like a circle, no beginning and no end. But society is definitely a part of their existence. To most people, sex(apart from the spiritual aspect of it) is a source of a euphoric intoxicating pleasure. But when the same sex, serves to be a reason for some ones existence, it is condemned. I am quite convinced this argument has logical fallacies.
Its so much more easier to condemn the black sheep than accept them as part of the herd and move on, isnt it?
Yes these are people who have fallen between the cracks, they are trampled, their weaknesses made use of, and opportunites that could have been helpful to them, ceased.
i wonder what society has to say?

happiness

I am currently reading paul coelho's eleven minutes. I have just begun, and already, there are questions in my mind, and since its a warm sunday morning, what better way to kick start the day, than sit with a cup of hot coffee, and take a leisurely mental walk :)

And by the way, I would really like to find a better way of making double cream coffee, if its not satisfactorily made, you not only end up having a bad "kaapi day", but your "weight" conscience snaps you out of your senses, to give you an early morning briefing on how much you have grown sideways!.... while if the coffee satiates you, it takes you to a different realm, where you only meet people with a similar taste for kaapi, and u seldom take your conscience with you to this realm!

And so thee sits to pen down thee thoughts :D
happiness... I know what it is, it is this feeling of joy that wells up in you, and you feel carefree, to a certain extent; insouciant, everyone is good (atleast most of them!), in short, the world is beautiful. All your worries and tensions drain out of you, and you feel like a child again, blithely skipping down the road, with the wind hitting your face, no one or nothing can affect you now.
But i must mention, that everyone when feeling happy will definitely have an answer when posed with the reason for their happiness. That is one of the few questions in life that never goes unanswered!. But I was wondering if such a thing as an absolute happiness ever exists? Can I be happy and not have a reason? not assosiate my happiness with any thing living or dead, with any dreams, fulfilled or abandoned? In a nutshell, can I be happy and not have an answer to why I am so? I have never come across such an individual nor have I felt this way. For I feel that this is the kind of happiness that would be everlasting, nothing or noone could snatch it away from you.... its not fettered to anything or anyone in this world, so the question of it being evanescent doesnot arise, for everything connected to this world is evanescent isnt it?

All of us in a way are manacled. some to our dreams, some to our past and some to our future.
in fact, i donot blame this entirely on us, for life is short, unpredictable, so planning for the future is imperative. And no one can move on without having a dream, a purpose. But in that case, as coelho points out, you would be living your future, not the present. infact due to the unpredictability of life in general, all of us are living our future, clinging on to our dreams, they are like the compass that propel the lone ship in the sea, giving it a sense of direction.
And so coming back to our happiness, it is not surprising, that happiness brings along with it, its own baggages.

Coming to think of it, such a simple thing like happiness, is so delusive, it is like the sun, hiding behind the clouds on a very gloomy day. You never know how long the sun is going to shine down on you, and when it is going to back into hiding! This doesnt mean to say that I exhaust all my happiness pondering over how long it is going to exist..

But sometimes I feel that there is no such thing as happiness, it is just a feeling that pervades us, like a mirage in the vast expanse of a desert, to a fatigued traveller, the mirage is a new hope, in fact the mere sight of a mirage a few kilometers away resuscitates him, he moves on with a new pace, but alas!, he realises he can never close down on the pool of water, it remains a vision, the distance to which remains constant with time, but even though the realisation dawns on him, he pushes it back, realising that "knowing" would not keep him alive at this stage. The vision howevevr uncanonical it is, now becomes a part of him, it moves ahead when he moves, and stops when he stops.

pedagogy

In life I am fortunate to have been taught by a variety of teachers thereby exposing myself to variegated forms of teaching. This is self-explanatory of the fact that it would be unfair to rank these various forms of teaching without being unjust to either of them.

But there are two main teachers well-etched in my memory - Professor Nagaraj of Vivekananda College and my music teacher Mrs.Jaya Kalidas. Nagarajan Sir introduced me to chemistry, and since then there has been no looking back, while Jaya aunty brought music into my life, it was like a breath of fresh air, that was eternally rejuvenating and replenishing. But both of these two highly influential individuals had two very contrasting ways of going about their teachings.

I clearly remember, my first rendevouz with Sir. It was a sunday evening at 7 pm when myself and my parents went over to his place, to express my desire of coming under his tutelage for a period of 2 yrs. The first question he asked me was why i liked chemistry followed by why i thought i need his guidance. I dont think I sounded very convincing in my answers as i said something cliched like, my chemistry fundamentals werent cleared etc. But nevertheless, my first lesson was to be held on the succeding day. Unlike most teachers who start off with their first lessons, Sir just gave two problems to solve and sat down next to me with his "times of India" crossword. I was wondering if this was one of those trick tests to assess my depth of understanding, and this thought didnot do anything to alleviate my nervousness. Furthermore, while I was figuring out the methodology, Sir would quietly steal a glance into my rough work. I managed to figure out the answers, and to my surprise, the first question put to me by Sir was not "what is the answer" but why did I choose to solve the question the way I did, and if there was any other way i could think off. We had a brain storming session and most of the classes were a two way discussion rather than the usual didactic lectures. I think this is a perfect example of learning blended with fun. But what really appealed to me was that , even though most questions had one correct answer, what sir looked for, was the undercurrent of thought that went into solving those problems, each problem could be done in several ways, and this inturn provided an insight into each student and his reasons for choosing one method over the other. Sir never led us by the hand if you get what i mean. In a way we taught ourselves, with sir constantly watching over us. To sir, learning was a process where in he just served as a catalyst, never as the judge. Rights and Wrongs were not laid emphasis on, rather, the focus was on learning something new each day. Each student had a different approach, a different way of trying to understand the same concept or theorem, and it was these perspectives that were given importance to. We would be given a problem underlyin a theorem we had never heard of, and at the end of the session, the theorem would be presented to us. The teaching was not only application oriented, I think it was tweaked to suit every individual. Intellectual freedom was abundant in his classes, and that is what still keeps me in awe of Sir.

Jaya aunty was a complete contrast. In all her classes, we would always be first taught the correct and appropriate way to sing a particular note, the method that has always been followed conventionally. We were only occasionally allowed to improvise. The emphasis was laid on learning music the way it has always been sung. Ofcourse this is also subject to the fact that, in order to improvise on the notes, we needed to have learnt enough and mastered the original peice. We were given detailed explanations about the history of each peice and why it has got to be sung in that particular manner. We were, in other words, led by the hand. And by saying this, I donot mean to degrade this particular method of pedagogy, for as I said before, what I have picked up from Jaya aunty, I could have picked up from no other. She was undoubtedly as special and gifted teacher and I am proud to have learnt music from her.

But having said that, I must add that good teachers are very hard to find, for teaching is an art, more than a skill, it may arise out of practise, experience definitely has a role to play, but without a flair for teaching, the teacher will simply serve to be a knowledge provider. nothing else.

at times, i am amazed by the speed with which life passes by without you even catching a hint of its passing. The death of a relative, india's victory in a match, the dreaded exam results, one of the quickest - holidays ! no one can explain how the night before the exam just ambles by, clinging to your shadow, while the summer vacation just zooms past you.
when i look back at some moments, moments which i would not say i took for granted, but which i just lived by, quite unaware of how quickly they would leave me, i wonder if i could bring them back. Would i want them back, given another chance? At the first instance, i would jump at such a choice, but them, i may after all want to move on, may want to know wats coming across the bend in the road, and not go back the same way i came. As the same moments, a second time, may pass even more quickly.
What I would want to carry with me, are those memories, good or bad, the anxiety at its peak just before my eyes find my roll no. in the exam results, the relief that there is someone to open the door for you at home, so you could rest your worn out feet on the table while hot coffee is being served.
Now i come back to an empty house, actually home, :)... i look at the gas stove, the one that was being stretched to its max limit possible due to all the rigorous cookin the last two months, i look back at the time when I went to the airport, to pick up...
and then, i look at my empty coffee cup at the window sill, realise, i am going to have to wash it..
life moves on.. doesnt it?

There come moments in life, when all you are left with, are questions. Questions that cannot be answered, those kind of questions that snap you out of reality, questions that not only make you think, but also look at life as an outsider. You see yourself walking, rather hurrying to the lab, worrying about your experiment, hoping against hope that it has atleast gone to a 40 % yield (atleast the 5 th time you set it up).... Sometimes, there is no emotion or feeling to describe what I feel, the undercurrent of thoughts flowing in my head, its not dejection, nor boredom, I would not even call it one of those philo moods. I am sure all of us have these moments, that pass by as suddenly as they come, and we are left wondering what we are doing whiling away time, and quickly put these moments behind us and get to "work".
I too have these moments, they generally come when i stand gazing at dusk, outside my window at the highway lights a few miles away, just when the contours of Leeds fade into the dimming light.
Sumtimes I wonder how it would have been if I were at the other side of those lights, the dark side of life. I wonder what people who are at the other side actually feel like, the so called outcasts, out-laws. What is life for them? Sumtimes, society pushes a person to such an extent that he's forced to retaliate, against the rising tide, and ceases to "belong". The picture is painted in even darker shades when he openly declares his indifference to society and her ways. But there are also cases where in the person is just born in the other side, for no fault of his/her. In fact it takes them a while to realise that they are meant to be the benchwarmers, like the watery trail of milk thats left behind, constantly reminding us, of what could happen if we are left behind in the race. These people then, either passively accept there "fate", some even go to the extent of using it to evoke sympathy, while some, fight back. There is also a lot that just fades away; unnoticed. Sometimes I donot know to which of these I belong.
At this point I must mention a particular instance I read in the book " a thousand suns" by dominique lapierre. The jailer is leading the criminal to the electric chair. He clamps the criminal to the chair and is just about to turn his back, when he catches a glimpse of the person's eyes. What he sees forces his to stop and ponder for a moment, questions his faith in his job, the entire judicial system. In those eyes, he doesnot see a confession, nor a refusal of the commited crime, no guilt nor a resignation. He sees eyes that smile back at him, not laugh, just a subtle smile, a smile that tells him, that beyond a certain point, none of us care. In fact, he would have confessed the crime, had it made you feel happier, he may even do the contrary, to satisfy his attorney. The point is, he doesnot care. To him it is immaterial which side he belongs, whether he belongs or not. A small doubt creeps into the jailer's mind. The system definitely has loop holes. But what it has done, is to take away a person's life, forcefully place him in a role he may or may not be worthy of (punishment), making a caricature out of him, pushing him through the cracks, and blaming him of having fallen between them.

Unfortunately, the moment has passed. I no longer know what i mean, so donot ask me! but......
am sure there are more to come....

the courage to accept things we cannot control, the courage to fight the things we can control, and the wisdom to distinguish between the two!........ - welcome to the "rabbi" me!