Caught behind but not out!

Moving

2007-01-21T22:40:00.000-08:00

The waters were rough and I decided to steer my ship to calmer shores. I have moved to http://scientificbellows.wordpress.com. I have no idea why i moved but reason begets reason and I'd rather not have one!

Irreversible

2006-07-07T23:48:00.000-07:00

Irreversible. A movie that I picked up with fear. It is a movie who's IMDB trivia would may you wary of watching it.

"The first 30 minutes of the film has a background noise with a frequency of 28Hz (low frequency, almost inaudible), similar to the noise produced by an earthquake. In humans, it causes nausea, sickness and vertigo. It was the main cause of people walking out of the theaters during the first part of the film in places like Cannes and San Sebastian. In fact, it was added with the purpose of getting this reaction." (IMDB trivia)

I think the director Gaspard Noe will be pretty pleased if I called the movie shocking or used adjectives like ugly. He would sleep in his grave knowing that his soul has served its purpose. However, that is what Irreversible is. The use of any other adjective would not only be flawed but would be far away from the truth. The movie proceeds in reverse chronological order just like others in its genre such as Memento. Its nice to note that it simply isnt a gimmick exploited to make viewers curious to watch the movie.

The movie starts of with a killing. Murder in its most brutal form and is best watched with eyes closed. Actually no, the movie starts off with Les temps detruit tout- Time destroys everything. As one watches it is inevitable that you try to question the murder. What prompted so much hatred? Rage? Anger? As a viewer, you are left in despair. The answer to 'why' is slowly unwrapped.

To go into the details of what the movie is about is superfluous considering some reviewers who have written about the movie (having been paid to write!)- Roger Ebert's review

What starts as a movie that is absolutely brutal evolves into something that provides reason for it and ends in happiness where you leave with a smile. Consider the same in proper time sequence....the end would be sheer disgust.
Time destroys everything. When the movie describes the events that lead up to the fateful moment you wonder how things would be if time were static. How would lives change if you could peek a few hours into the future? Time changes everything.

I made an interesting observation on Rotten tomatoes. The movie has an unfortunate 56% rating from critics. But that is something I would expect.

To me, it seems like the kind of movie that no one can be grey about. Unfortunately this movie does not give any more options than a chess board.

The petit problems of the world

2006-06-25T10:06:00.000-07:00

I look at the skies and imagine that the world is a beautiful place to live in. I enjoy the view I get of the stars, my morning coffee and the ability to read and understand the world around me. I do not have real problems. A fairly bold statement I think that rests on how one defines real problems. I think it is fair to say that I live an extraordinarily happy life compared to many millions who don't. I'm not sure if these are blessings or luck but perhaps a mere game of probability where the dice was rolled and landed on the side with two sixes.

I think hard, the questions turn up in millions, answers, a few. An important reason why a lot of people fail to maintain a decent standard of living is because of two main reasons- access and opportunity. For most part due to biased sympathies towards child labour this article will deal with opinions that surround this issue. Here are links to two articles that I have read which have prompted this piece.

Child labour in the South Indian matchstick industry (link)

Child labour in coal mines in Congo (link)

Of course, its easy to say that you have heard of these issues before but I think its important we constantly remind ourselves of the harsh realities of the world. I don't think they are issues to be pitied upon on one occasion and end up drawing the curtains on them.

It is interesting that the problems are more or less the same in different parts of the world and the reasons are also somewhat similair. Again access and opportunity are staggering blocks to development.

The road to change has also been a standard route taken. It involves freeing children by legal means or by convincing parents about its dangers. Unfortunately these solutions lack foresight. Most of these children are back to square one after a while. The real solution involves solving the two main problems I have stated earlier which are unfortunately not trivial problems with straightforward solutions. So in some sense we are stuck in a vicious cycle where the solution is of utopian scales.

The skeptical reader would wonder if I have provided solutions but the goal of this article was never to provide solutions but to ask the same 'boring' questions. What do we do?

I strongly urge you to take a look at these links to understand the kind of problems that many children in the world face and some steps towards healing them.

Protecting children's rights (link)

PMS a.k.a. Post movie watching syndrome

2006-06-24T12:06:00.000-07:00

Coming to the US, I have developed this insurmountable urge to watch at least four movies a week. I must pat my back to the commendable job that I have done so far. I have managed to meander my way past tons of crap that loom in the background of some great movies that I have watched. My most recent movie is Garden State. A sweet, feel good, coming of age movie. I wonder if the following post has ideas inspired by PMS (post movie watching syndrome). I think I should make this term official. Copyright it! Perhaps.

And as it comes in writing, its time to intersperse the random thought that projects out of my mind. I think about story telling and about how as little kids we used to listen to stories being told. Some of them happy, some of them sad. It really mattered who told us the story. Its not so different when we grow up. We still listen to stories, we read them and we watch them. And it still matters as to how the story is being told. I maintain the belief that there are very few stories in the world and in some way or the other we have watched everyone of them. What really matters is how the story was told. We carry, if I may use a word as harsh as this, the scars of childhood in many aspects of our life. I wonder then how people grow up. As Johnny Depp, who plays the writer J.M. Barrie in the fabulous movie Finding Neverland, remarks, "You are grown up now". The story of Peter Pan written by J.M. Barrie is said to have marks of being autobiographical. I take Barrie's side and wonder what it is to be grown up. Is it something you realize when it happens? Sounds a lot to me like sex.

Somehow I have always felt that people take the act of growing up too seriously. When you grow older the one thing that happens is that your toys get a lot more expensive! We still quarrel, of course we do so within the legal framework we draw up for ourselves. Have strong opinions, likes and dislikes. I truly wonder if life carries a very limited set of patterns much like the very few stories that exist in Hollywood. Perhaps it would be a lot less complicated if we all thought of ourselves as little children.

The rants of a Ph.D student- part one

2006-06-22T09:21:00.000-07:00

The rants of a Ph.D student is hopefully a long series of write ups that I hope to give on what life as a Ph.D student is. I had refrained from writing about this for quite a while but then I think there does come a point where you end up pondering about life, the universe and everything. This point is when you have one of those days when the sun rises in the west, little puppies are no longer cute and you rather eat stale food from three days ago then cook afresh. And this is also when Doctorate meets philosophy.

A series of unfortunate incidents that took place yesterday leave me in this strange predicament. I had not one, but two failed experiments due to sheer incompetence. And when such incidents happen it is best to find solace in reason than in rage. I think about the day and I learn my lesson. I think this is key to several more of these kind of days I will have. Never do an experiment when you don't feel like doing it. I can see the eyebrows raised and wondering about all the exceptions to this rule that my dear reader conjures up. But yes, they are exceptions. There will be days when you wont have a choice and have to stick around in the lab until you start hallucinating. I can only offer my deep felt condolences to such days. But then the lesson is that when you can postpone the experiment, do so with no guilt. (This of course doesnt apply if you feel like this everytime you wake up!) There will be other days and longer hours in the night when you can make it up. At least for me what happened was that I pursued my experiments in spite of being brain dead and all of them failed miserably. The nature of my present work is such that it might mean losing the entire week. All for want of a nail.........

I reached the point where the voice in my head screamed for me to stop. I closed shop and headed to the nearest Chinese eat out and then followed it up with a super Banana split. Its hard to forget the disaster which was yesterday but then the fact is that it is important to forget and move on. Today seems a lot more hopeful. It was raining for a bit but then its back to being bright and sunny - as metaphorical as it may sound, I live in a place where climate change is real (An Inconvenient truth- Al Gore)

I'm quite sure it wont be long before my next rant and well, a new lesson well learnt.

P.S.

Other interesting rants I have read:

Suhasni's rants about her research (link)

Run Kaushik Run!!!@!@$$$$$%E%&&

2006-06-20T07:46:00.000-07:00

Today was the day that i decided to conquer all. Conquer the overwhelming power of sleep and the wills of procrastination that prevented me from even trying! I decided to wake up at 5.30 in the morning and run. The alarm rang at 5.30. But having set the clock 10 minutes fast, it was actually 5.20. I cursed my stars for losing out on 10 minutes of sleep (stars are useful especially when u have no one else to curse) The next was warm up session while I brushed my teeth. I found multi tasking as a useful way to save time. I was fighting a battle against the rising sun. I had to complete my conquest before the sun showed up. Damn the socks. I couldn't find them.Perhaps for the reason that they were neatly tucked away in some vague drawer. I wish my mom had told me where they were before she left. Earlier they were strewn all over the place which made it quite convenient for me to pick them up and wear.

I looked out. The streets were empty. I thought to myself that at the stroke of the morning hour, when the town was asleep, Kaushik would run to light and freedom. Nehru would have been proud of me for this. And then I ran. I ran.I ran. I ran. I had images of Forrest as I ran. I thought it might be worthwhile making a movie out of this. Run Kaushik Run- 'the story one man's determination against all odds' (suitable music in the background as this is being said would help) So where was I? ah, yes. I ran. I ran. I ran. For five minutes. Damn, I thought to myself. Einstein was right. TIme does slow down when you move at the speed of light. So while considering the possibilities of time dilation, I decided to take a short break for another 5 minutes. No more breaks. I had to run. And I ran.....for another two minutes by which time my silencer had broken down, so one could probably hear me puff and pant from two blocks away. I consoled myself with the thought that it was probably the body's way of showing its need for fresh air. A much needed break was again taken. I looked at the clock and decided I had enough for the day....but then I cant give up can I ? After all this is the inspirational story of one man's fight against all odds and so I ran again but this time I made sure I was home.

I refused to turn on the fan so that I would still have the beads of sweat trickling down my spine....down my forehead. I would still have with me, the scars of the run. I should stop now, after all it is time for coffee! Ah,and now it suddenly seemed like there was purpose to life itself!

What happens when biologists take up photography for a hobby?

2006-04-23T15:09:00.000-07:00

Image courtesy: UT Austin news feature page

Last year had a fantastic article in Nature (sorry for my bias to pick nature articles, I promise other journals in the future), published by a bunch of undergraduate students on E.coli photography. The title was "Engineering Escherichia coli to see light"

The trick to doing this lies in getting bacteria to sense light or rather specifically in this case, getting E.coli to sense light. This isnt a trivial task because it is important maintain a signalling cascade while enabling the organism to posess a different response element.

The choice of the signalling pathway was a two component pathway (two component signalling pathways are those pathways in which there is a signalling element and a response element and the system is regulated by a kinase) The two component pathway in this case was EnvZ- OmpR involved in porin expression in response to osmotic shock.

A chimera between EnvZ and Cph1 (a gene in Synechocystis; a cyanobacterium) was constructed by analyzing potential crossover points between the two genes. The idea is to change the response domain in EnvZ to one which is light sensitive. This is not really as trivial as it seems. To appreciate the difficulty, one must understand the number of potential crossover points possible and what kinds of crossovers actually produce functional chimaeric response elements.

These chimeras were on plasmids which were transformed into EnvZ chromosomal knockouts of E.coli. These E.coli also had an ompC promoter linked to a lacZ reporter. In the osmotic regualtion system, OmpR binds ompC and activates the expression of the downstream genes. In this case, OmpR will activate LacZ reporter expression.

Now the parts are in place, but the story still has some length to go. The light sensitive protein needs an element called phycocyanobilin. Where does this come from? E.coli does not have the ability to produce these compounds. The advantage of a well characterised genome/genetic system really comes to the forefront here. The necessary genes were again take from Synechocystis and inserted into E.coli.

Lets do a recap on what we have and how the means are going to be attained.

1. A chimaeric protein of EnvZ- Cph1 that responds to light
2. ompC promoter- lacZ fusion which responds to OmpR binding
3. a biosynthetic system that produces phycocyanobilin which is a component of the light sensor.

How does the system function?

The sensor system is turned off when exposed to redlight due to the inhibition of autophosphorylation. (Only when the protein is phosphorylated, the response system is active and lacZ expression occurs) We now have a switch system in place that responds to light by means of the two component system.

The art of photography:

When an image is projected onto an agar plate containing these modified E.coli, the regions where there is a shadow have a lacZ which is expressed. The lacZ converts S-gal into a black insoluble compound thus producing a contrast image on the plate.

The moral of the story:

Synthetic biology is a field that is in its nascent stage and this kind of work shows how far one can go with controlling microorganisms. Craig Venter for instance is making headway in trying to synthesise the first synthetic minimal microbe. The control that this allows us to exert on bacterial systems is truly awesome.

'Enginering Escherichia coli to see light' Levskaya, A et. al. Nature 438, 441- 442 (2005)

Other useful links:

EnvZ- OmpR two component signalling pathway
A U Texas news release containing comments by some of the authors
Nature news update (subscription required)

In the pursuit of truth

2006-03-22T22:17:00.000-08:00

Its hard for people who don’t do science to really see the excitement hidden in it. Scientists usually turn out to be a usually stereoptypical man in white lab coats, hounding away with a test tube at hand and trying to resurrect a Frankensteinian like being. I recently was part of a community science outreach program called ‘Mad Scientists’- it stays true to the stereotype of what scientists are like! Well, we were crazy enough to cool a quick mix ice cream recipe with liquid nitrogen (a link to 1001 things one can do with liquid nitrogen whose temperature happens to be about -190 degrees Celsius!)

Apart from this, the practise of science has seen some amazing amount of drama over the years. One of the most famous cases in this respect is what they call in ethics class ‘The Baltimore case’ (yes! I had to fight my way through such a course where I heard some very interesting storeis - yawn, yawn) . Here is a very well written piece on the case.

In brief, the case started off with accusations by Margaret O Toole against her advisor at the MIT- Dr. Thereza Imanishi-Kari. It was related to her being unable to reproduce some results that had been previously published in the lab. Enter David Baltimore- if I am right in pulling this piece of data from the back of my head— one of the youngest reciepients of the Nobel prize for his discovery of an extraordinary enzyme called reverse transcriptase. At this point, O’ Toole had taken up the case with government and an investigation into the results began. Dr. Baltimore was quite frustrated with the involvement of the governement in testing the validity of scientific data. His argument was that science is self policing.

This is also reflected in the recent findings of fraud in the infamous case of Stem Cells cloned in a Korean lab. I have an earlier piece on this issue. Inspite of the claims to cloning the first stem cells, it was not long before some one sounded the sirens. Who would know science better than scientists themselves?

The Baltimore case was downhill from this point. Dr. Baltimore had recently assumed the presidentship of the Rockefeller university. He was now under severe criticism from several quarters for coming out in support of Dr. Imanishi-Kari. He was forced to resign from the position. Dr. Imanishi- Kari had her funding from the NIH suspended. It took three review committees of the governm,ent to finally exonerate her. She finally got a tenured position and Dr. Baltimore ended up as the president of Caltech.

Another extraordinary case where scientific integrity was under question was in the case of William Summerlin. In this case there wasn’t any exoneration. Scientific fraud was quite blatant! In trying to prove that he was able to successfully graft skin, he tried the transplanation of the skin of black mice to white mice. Summerlin actually used a black marker to colour the white mouse. The fraud was discovered when someone taking care of the mice used rubbing alcohol to remove the marks.

And if you thought that the scientific world was just starting to sound entertaining, here are two instances of books that write about scientific ethics.

A new entrant: Intuition- this is a book set in a scientific lab with a post doctoral researcher making an extra ordinary scientific claim about treating breast cancer using a virus.

An anxious, ambitious, down-on-his-luck postdoctoral researcher suddenly obtains results that look too good to be true — the virus he's injected into cancer-riddled mice appears to be melting away their tumors — and his girlfriend, another postdoc in the same lab, comes to suspect he's fudged his results. But she doesn't know for sure: there's no hard evidence, just some sloppy, discarded lab notes that seem to suggest it

Here is the link to the New York times book review. It seems like it might be worth the read!

I still remember what I heard in a class sometime back- if its too good to be true, its probably not true! This is not to nullify some extraordinary discoveries that do come by. Skepticism at first always helps to look beneath the surface.

This book is not the first of its kind. Carl Djerassi (who is very popular for his discovery of the pill!) had a book out some years ago called Cantor’s dilemma. Here is an excerpt taken from this link on what the book is about:

Professor Isidore Cantor, a brilliant molecular biologist who works at a thinly disguised University of Illinois at Urbana, comes up with a hypothesis about how tumors are formed. Cantor's colleagues at Harvard Medical School, where he first introduces the idea in a talk, immediately recognize the idea as brilliant.

Cantor's major competitor at Harvard is Kurt Krauss, a molecular biologist so famous he has a tumor named after him. "Not as ugly as Kaposi's, nor quite as famous as Rous', Krauss' sarcoma was distinguished by the fact that its discoverer, Harvard cancer doyen Kurt Krauss, was still very much alive," Djerassi writes. Djerassi understands how scientists become famous. Of named tumors is fame made.

What Cantor doesn't tell his audience is that he has an idea for confirming his hypothesis, which he is keeping to himself until he gets back to Urbana. He then assigns his best post-doc, Jeremiah Stafford, the job of doing the experiment.

They both know the call from Stockholm is at stake. But how far is Stafford willing to go to get the confirming result? After he gets a positive result, a group at Harvard is unable to confirm it. And someone slips a note under Cantor's door, suggesting that Stafford doctored the results.

To continue reading this extrmely well written review of this book, click click.

On second thought, I must admit, scientists are crazy indeed!

Reliving daffodils

2006-03-17T06:56:00.000-08:00

I still remember that it was fourth grade that I heard this poem for the first time. My school teacher had asked me to read as a 'speaking contest' entry and I ended up winning. Daffodils. It has stuck to me ever since. There are days like today when I suddenly wake up in the morning and relive the last few lines of the poem

And oft when on my couch I lie
in vacant or in pensive mood
they flash upon the inward eye
which is the bliss of solitude
and then my heart with pleasure fills
and dances with the daffodils.

Wordsworth didnt have to say something to the order of what Keat's might have written, if he were to write about daffodils. Bu keats was more a poet who wrote about the human subject. The Nigthingale of course is an exception. (among others but my reading of Keats isnt extensive)

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty
that is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know"

He just needed to describe what the daffodils were like:

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

He gives the flower an attitude. A sense of pride sprung up as they threw up their heads in a sprightly dance. What do you see if you try reading between the lines? Do you think Wordsworth had something more to say than simply talk about Daffodils? I have tried and tried but in vain. He unfortunately seems to have had not too much on his mind.

Again he didnt have to write something like what Keat's wrote:

Thou still unravished bride of quietness
thou foster child of silence and slow time

and still inspite of all this, Daffodils is a joy to read. I have now been reading it for something like ten years and my heart still jumps with joy when I read the last few lines. To me its as if the entire poem was written just to write them.

Here's to daffodils. After looking at the poem in pieces, here's a more wholesome version!

The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee:
A Poet could not be but gay
In such a jocund company!
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Kirrukit

2006-03-15T21:28:00.000-08:00

The one thing I was really disappointed about earlier this week was that I didn’t get to watch the South Africa- Australia game over at the Wanderers. A cricketing fan’s dream come true. A perennial flow of runs upto a gripping finish. Someone posted a nice highlight clip of the match and believe me its definitely worth watching. Inspite of knowing the outcome of the game, the magnitude of the total combined with a fantastic last over finish was truly an adrenaline rush.

But as I saw a game, a flurry of images went past me. The first thing was the South Africa- Australia game two World cups back. I was lucky enough to watch it and that was a helluva nail biter. Klusener had played brilliantly all the way, taken the team to the brink of victory only to be cheated by defeat. I still remember THE RUNOUT. Wow! I kept thinking- did South Africa play this game with vengance in mind? Perhaps this was the game when they gave back to Australia in full measure.

The second thought was Herschelle Gibbs at 175 who probably stood firm. Someone had to stay for the team to even dream of getting to a total in excess of 400. I thought of the match fixing allegations that he had to face. The truth behind them. It was nice that he has been able to rebuild his career following that nasty period. Sometimes careers simply fall apart after such incidents.

While I’m on the subject, I should mention some of the most exciting innings I have seen.
1. Brian Lara’s 155 against Australia to single handedly take W. Indies to victory
2. Chris Harris in the first mini world cup against Zimbabwae
3. VVS Laxman’s 280 against Australia

All these are fond memories indeed!

Awww shut up!

2006-03-12T22:44:00.000-08:00

As most of you who came by must have noticed, this page is gathering cobwebs. I'm trying to dust them out but every time I try to clean them the spiders seem to still find a way. Any permanent solutions? Well right now my prioroties are about a certain exam that I have in about a month's time. It keep the butterflies in my stomach quite happy but well as you can see it does have some side effects. So sometime ago was a day when my age goes up by an integer number of years. Some one told me that there is actually a 1/400 factor that should also be included and hence its an integer only onece in something like every 400 years. Now if this didnt particularly make too much of sense you shouldnt bother too much about it. Its quite trivial and quite unimportant. Ouch! I hate redundancy. It's being like Srinath who is credited to have said "That was a wonderful cover drive through the covers' One would think he was stating quite the obvious! Well as far as the cricket goes I'm pretty sure the looming news of South Africa's victory is pretty much floating around and if it isnt it should be. I'm unhappy to have missed it. i'm hoping salvation might be just around the corner

The aftertaste

2006-02-26T19:51:00.000-08:00

The scent of dawn
A mile away
Time sniffs about
And finds its way
It rings from far
and calls to me.
I roll over
it sings with glee
its ugly song
in offset tones
Oh, that awful drone!

And past the endless chimes
Yawns, sniffles and sighs
I tried to find sleep
My attempts were futile
Dawn beckons,
with gentle rays
tender lips and
a warm embrace

I wake up knowing the battles that lie
And behold the first I march to
Gallant and full of pride
The sword I drew with bristles and foam
To get rid of the aftertaste.

Dont mess with the captain

2006-02-25T11:21:00.000-08:00

Do you dare click this link to know what happens when you mess with Captain? Enjoy!

Another bout of freedom of speech

2006-02-22T20:45:00.000-08:00

One of the things that I still do out here in the US (which I used to do in India) is to read the Hindu (we will not broach the subject of baths! That's already been done elsewhere in this blog)

One more article on the subject of freedom of speech. I find this article particularly interesting. One reason is that its written by Hasan Suroor , whose writing I enjoy. The other reason is that it treads on what I have written about in the previous entry. Double standards?

Here is an excerpt:

In two speeches during a visit to Austria in 1989, he called the Nazi gas chambers a "fairy tale" and made a series of other highly offensive remarks while dismissing the Holocaust of Jews. It was on the basis of warrants issued at the time that he was arrested last November when passing through Austria, and has now been jailed raising questions about the wisdom of what one critic described as "exhuming old corpses."

How do we become a more progressive and forward looking society? Accepting the multi culturalism amidst which we live is perhaps the first step. Can we be more consistent in the way we deal with issues and not let race blind us?

Beyond free speech

2006-02-20T06:04:00.000-08:00

This blog borders on the issue of Danish cartoons published in several newspapers. I have restrained for a while to blog on the issue but then its almost like I feel obliged to do so considering how many are doing it. :-) the article concludes with a recent attack on Wikipedia which I feel is an issue that demands some reaction (at least from the blogging community)

What's my stand? Freedom of the press , I feel has been one of the most misused fundamental laws ever. Has the press ever been wrong on any issue? Think hard before swallowing what the press throws at you. On the subject of news analysis, the press has just a bunch of opinionated people who write well.

I have been following a few blogs and its not a suprise that everyone supports the 'freedom of the press'. Bollocks. I think most bloggers feel proud to support the free speech community just as they have on occasions before. The wave came by and they are riding it.

I think with free speech comes a lot of responsibility. My voice for instance is something that will stay within the confines of a few people who chance upon this article, but there ends my ability to reach out. Newspapers on the other hand with their large readership have to be more level minded.

I keep coming across this hopeless argument about the potrayal of Jesus Christ in comic ways and how Christians are not outraged. One, Christ has never had a bomb on his head and two, they never hit upon a stereotype potryal. Muslims are known to the western world as fanatics indulging in terrorist activities and the cartoons strive to be faithful to this.

I think the west simply likes double standards that hint upon racist attitudes. When Prince Harry wore a Swastika symobol to a party the outrage nearly brought the royal family to its news. The world rendered unanimous support. Is it a suprise? The world's sympathy for Jews? What about Prince Harry's freedom of expression? Apparently the press didnt think too much about it.

The press KNEW the fallout of this. The riots are no suprise. The flames will not be quelled easily. On a tangential note, I must take a shot at how religion is a baneful entity in human society.

This brings me to the issue I really want to discuss. Wikipedia and censorship.
China censors access to wikipedia. This article in the Washnigton Post has a write up on this issue. I feel that this is more like the censorship battle that we should be fighting. Doesnt the Chinese government understand the wealth of information they end up blacking out? I sometimes wonder how much does it take to be reasonably smart to know whats right and whats not.

These are some excerpts from the article, possible reasons for this censorship:

In July 2003, a prolific Hong Kong user known online as Lorenzarius sparked one of the site's first political debates with an essay urging people to avoid "China-centrism." He argued, for example, that the war that began when Japan invaded China in 1937 should be called the "Second Sino-Japanese War" instead of the "War of Resistance against Japan," as it is referred to by the party.

The after math:

Then, on June 3, 2004, people in China who tried to visit Wikipedia saw an error page instead. The government had blocked the site on the eve of the 15th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre.

The political fallouts:

Because users hailed from Taiwan as well as the mainland, the most passionate fights were related to the status of the self-governing island. At one point, there was even talk about splitting the site in two, because residents of Taiwan and the mainland write Chinese with different sets of characters.

Now what?

"By blocking Wikipedia, we lose a chance to present China's voice to the world, allowing evil cults, Taiwan independence forces and others . . . to present a distorted image of China," he said. "We lose a chance to share academic knowledge with the world, and as users, a channel to gain information. . .

Lets now talk about freedom of speech. Lets now talk about all the values that have fueled the recent outrage. Is free knowledge not as important as religion? Let see every newspaper unaniomously supporting Wikipedia. It wont happen. The issue will fade away. After all, there simply isnt enough publicity.

Random thoughts in random spaces

2006-02-11T22:39:00.000-08:00

Fickle thoughts that passed by
in streams and rivers
and flooded away
that leads into an ocean
where I struggle for life
searching for an oasis at bay

To think a thing
a raindrop that falls
to seed the thought
that grows tall
I wonder if some one will see
the tower I built
of all that I believe
it stands sturdy
amidst the ocean breeze
until the storms shattered
them for eternity.

Midnight's Children

2006-01-30T22:17:00.000-08:00

This blog has taken two weeks to create. That’s how long I took to find time amidst the crevices of the day to read the book. Salman Rushdie’s Midnight Children. The story reinforces something which I keep pointing out to myself everytime- its not the story that counts but how the story has been told. The book I must warn you is tedious reading. It requires effort to read it and really see the different layers that unfold as the book progresses. Rushdie handles his characters with ease. Each one of the characters has a significant role. Probably the kind of movie in which every character is hero and villain personified.

The protagonist of the book is Saleem Sinai, the narrator. He is one of the 1001 children born when India breathed freedom. Those born closer to the midnight hour hold greater powers than others. There are children who have the power to change form, pass through mirrors, travel through time etc. Saleem, who was born exactly “at the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps……” has the power to read minds. He is the most powerful of them all.

Apparently the book has some underpinnings in Gunter Grass’s The Tin drum. I haven’t read the book but its definitely up on my reading list.

The prophecy of the birth of Saleem Sinai unfolds in a very interesting manner. That’s something I might not be able to delve into but however for the sake of completeness I must include it.

A son……..A son, Sahiba, who will never be older than his motherland- neither older nor younger. ……..There will be two heads but you shall see only one- there will be knees and a nose, a nose and knees. ..listen carefully, Padma; the fellow got nothing wrong! “Newspapers shall praise him, two mothers shall raise him.! Bicyclists love him, but crowds will shove him! Washing will hide him- voices will guide him! Friends mutilate him- blood will betray him! Spitoons will brain him- doctors will drain him- jungle will claim him – wizards reclaim him! Soldiers will try him- tyrants will fry him. He will have sons without having sons. He will be old before he is old.. And he will die….before he is dead

In a nutshell, that’s the whole book! All 533 pages knotted down to a few lines. Easy isn’t it?

Saleem enters a classic Prince and the pauper scenario where two children born at the midnight hour in the hospital are switched. The one to be doomed to poverty ends up under affluent circumstances. Saleem’s distinguishing feature is his long nose. Shiva, the child who by the twist of fate ends up in poverty has powerful knees- the power endowed by midnight. The name Shiva is no accident- he is the procreator and the destroyer.(Recall the prophecy, nose and knees, knees and nose)

A very interesting note which I cant resist mentioning. The Prime minister, Nehru, writes a letter to Saleem Sinai:

Dear baby Saleem , My belated congratulations on the happy accident of your moment of birth! You are the newest bearer of that ancient face of India which is also eternally young. We shall be watching over your life with the closest attention; it will be a sense, the mirror of our own.

Saleem continues to narrate about how every blow India took hurt him as well. He takes blame for the fortunes and miseries of India. (Disbelief is best discarded!)

Rushdie is full of clever lines throughout the book. For instance, history reaches the stage where Gandhi is shot by Godse. Every muslim is in hiding until the name of the shooter was out. Nathuram Godse.

Thank God, Amina burst out, its not a muslim name”. And Aadam, upon whom the news of Gandhi’s death had placed a new burden of age: “This Godse is nothing to be grateful for!”……….”Why not, after all? By being Godse he has saved our lives!

The story progresses quickly as Saleem’s life undergoes several twists and he ends up in Pakistan post partition. Rushdie’s love for Bombay is very clear in these instances and his eagerness to bring Saleem Sinai back to where he belonged is evident. That’s what eventually happens.

The several layers of the book also slowly reveal themselves. Saleem writes:

….I had also been overwhelmed by an agonizing feeling of sympathy for the country which was not only my twin in birth but also joined to me (so to speak) at the hip, so that what happened to either of us, happened to us both. If I, snot- nosed and stain faced etcetera, had had a hard time of it the so had she, my sub continental twin sister; and now that I had given myself the right to choose a better future, I was resolved that the nation should share it too.

Such was the conjoined nature of Saleem’s life. Shiva’s story keeps playing its own tune in the background and intertwines into Saleem’s life when he returns to India from Pakistan. It is here that the story takes drastic turns and Rushdie’s vents his fury against Ms. Gandhi. His life passes through the peak of her regime and the chaotic times of emergency. Rushdie alludes to Ms. Gandhi’s hair – black and white- as reflecting the duality of evil that lies within. Referring to her as ‘the Widow’ he squarely blames her for the ensuing pit that his life falls into.

And as the story progresses down the long winding road where the end is near. Saleem Sinai ends up in a pickle factory run by the nurse who switched the children at the midnight hour- his second mother. (remember the prophecy!) I cant refrain from pointing this out as it builds to a very clever line which interjects its way:

One day, perhaps, the world may taste the pickles of history. They may be too strong for some palates, theur smell may be overpowering, tears may rise to eyes; I hope nevertheless that it will be possible to say of them that they possess the authentic taste of truth….that they are despite everything, acts of love.

The story at this point comes a full circle. Saleem Sinai’s tumultuous life is about to end.
As Rushide, beautifully puts it “….because it is the privilege and curse of midnight’s children to be both masters and victims of their times, to forsake privacy and be sucked into the annihilating whirlpool of the multitudes and to be unable to live or die in peace.”

So ends the book. Midnight’s children. Its very hard to capture the entire essence of the book or to give some flavour of the story that it is. I hope I have done well.

Trivia:

This book won the 1981 Booker prize and followed it up with a 1993 Booker of Bookers.

In the book, Saleem Sinai narrates the story to Padma. Interestingly Padma Lakshmi is Rushdie's present love interest.

Other interesting links for the more enthused:

Review by the Times Literary Supplement
More quotes from Wikiquote
A feature on Times list of all time 100 novels

Quote and Unquote Wicker Park

2006-01-28T18:13:00.000-08:00

I saw this movie called Wicker Park a few months ago. The movie stuttered through the beginning but like symphonies that end with allegros the pace of the movie turned out to be awesome. It could be called a typical love story of sorts. However, its important to note that a movie is not about the story but its more about how the story is told. Wicker Park excelled in this respect.

A remake of the French movie L' Appartement (meaning what it sounds like in english) ; the story deals with a young executive, Mathew- a seemingly perfect life- engaged to a beautiful woman. His past however hides a passionate affair with a another woman Alex, whom he still loves. A sequence of events leads to him wanting to find Alex again (no this isnt remotely like Serendipity) And along this path there is a third woman Lisa who provides what Jeffery Archer would have happily called 'A Twist to the tale'. Watch the movie before yawning and saying 'the typical love triangle.'

This blogpost is however not about the movie. Its about a couple of lines in the movie that blew me away, the time I watched it.

(Mathew finds Lisa and is about to dump Rebecca, his fiancee; who loves him)
Matthew: I needed you to know.
Rebecca: Know what? Know what, Matthew? That I'm not the girl who can break your heart?

******

Matthew: When you see something from afar, you develop a fantasy. But when you see it up close, 9 times out of 10, you wish you hadn't.

******

Lisa: Take my picture. I'm feeling beautiful tonight.

(sigh!)

Of traffic and lights

2006-01-24T14:47:00.000-08:00

Some time ago I recall reading an incident about O. Henry where a reporter asks him where he gets his stories from. "Look around you. There are stories everywhere." He said. He then picked up a menu card at the restraunt and after giving it a glance said, "There is a story in this" and he wrote Springtime a la carte. A classic O. Henry story. I must have read it over a million times but it reading it again gives me that kind of cozy cuddly feeling...that the whole world is still in place...that life is still wonderful...that the world spins from west to east...that hope is indeed beautiful in spirit.

Today I bumped into this very nice story about traffic lights. Here's the link. It truly does reaffirm what O. Henry said. Perhaps traffic lights aren't what they seem!

On compassion

2006-01-22T08:45:00.000-08:00

The Washington Post recently had an article on Dalai Lama's visit to Washington. In the write up Joel Achenbach makes a mention of the Dalai Lama's recent book.

His new book, The Universe in a Single Atom, states that the scientific method by itself has never truly explained certain features of human spirituality, such as compassion. He makes a distinction between the core values of a religion, which can't change, and the doctrines that are mutable, like the bit about the moon. But he clearly sees no problem being fully spiritual and fully scientific. He believes in freedom, which includes the freedom to use one's brain.

I must admit that I have not read the book and I doubt if I will create an opportunity to read it.

I found this note interesting because he days that science can never explain compassion and other features of human spirituality. To put it very naively, aren't qualities such as compassion emergent properties of an social system? The fact that the survival of a species is not dependent on the induvidual alone but on the entire set of induviduals the species interacts with. There was an article in 2000 on Edge.org by Dr. V.S. Ramachandran on the subject of Mirror Neurons. He proposes that these neurons might explain social interactions in humans, why we empathize with other people.

I have always maintained that science (or reasoning if you choose to call it) will find an explanation. The explanation not being around now does not imply it will never come by. The world is filled with a lot of smart people. Some one is bound to find an answer to the why's and the why not's!

I'm sweet enough

2006-01-20T00:29:00.000-08:00

The first time I came to the US, I naturally made the courtesy call to Starbucks. After all, its Tirupathi's equivalent out here. There's so much in common between the two- they take 'donations', give you 'holy water' and also provide for a nice place to meditate.

So, after picking up my coffee and glancing at a pretty looking girl who was beating away at her computer, I went over to pick up sugar for my coffee. This came as quite a shock to me the first time I saw it. Brown sugar! Brown sugar??? Yes, this is sugar which is brown. so what's new? Anyways, there were packets of brown sugar. Someone pointed out that it was raw and hence brown (I'm still trying to think who that outstandingly intelligent being was. Like I didn't know!) I wondered if sugar conoisseurs liked to consume it the way whiskey conoisseurs like their drinks neat.

The New Scientist has an article that blew away the clouds of ignorance. Brown sugar is similair to raw sugar in all respects except that it is synthetic raw sugar. Sounds like an oxymoron? Anyway let me stop going down alleyways and get straight to the point.

Sugar is brown due to the presence of molasses. The sugar is polished and decolourised to give white shiny crystals which are about 1mm in size. The molasses has a lot of dietary supplements like iron and vitamins which are lost in the process of polishing. The brown sugar that we eat however is not produced in this manner. It is white sugar supplemented with molasses to make it brown. Essentiall,y this process allows for better control of how much molasses is present in the end product. Strangely, the economics work better that way. For more details on this click here. This links to an article on New Scientist "I'm sweet enough" (No this article is not about me :P)

A penny for my thoughts - 3

2006-01-15T09:34:00.000-08:00

hunger

There are only three colours in this world. Black. White. And grey. Every other colour is an illusion. A thought process. Perhaps being colour blind is normal. Perhaps it isn’t. But who can tell.

Black is the only colour that a lot of people around the world get to see. Darker but never brighter. Shankar and Pandu saw this for most of their lives. Their history is uncertain but maybe they had a few grey and white moments as soon as they were born. The first rain maybe. I can’t say for sure. Some people simply live their lives in monochrome.

For many, content lives are lived with food and water. Twice a day would do. Sometimes once would have to suffice. None was almost intolerable but who kept count! Water is abundant and is available from dripping faucets and lonely water pumps. Food sometimes is an unfulfilled promise. Hunger.

One such water pump became their home. It had only been a week since their escape from the orphan home where abuse was a form a life. Abuse manifested itself in various forms but it had to be there. It was part of the morning prayer and the night meal. It had no holidays or wasn’t popular only during the summer. Choice isn’t a luxury that children in the orphan home could afford. It was like the many things that we have little choice over in our lives. The air we breathe. Birth.

Shankar felt the gash on his forehead. He had refused to eat and the warden threw the plate at him. He could still feel the cold steel slice past. It had been three days since his last meal. He wished he had eaten that day. He looked at Pandu. He lay curled up. He was hoping to make his stomach as small as possible. It wouldn’t feel too empty that way. Naivety.

Shanker gave Pandu a shove and woke him up. “It’s time to find some food.” Pandu didn’t reply. He was busy rubbing his eyes and trying to wake up. Saturday evening and the crowded streets of Chennai. They wandered through the busy roads of Chennai, which had a kind of loud ambience amidst the smoke curtains of vehicles that hadn’t been through emission tests.

The culinary pleasures that float in the air made it past the garbage which they sat next to. Human noses aren’t really that sensitive but hunger sniffs along.At times.

"Pandu, are you feeling hungry?" Shankar asked. Pandu turned around and slapped him. He then continued to smoke the half-smoked beedi that had fallen out of a passer by's hand. Shankar remained silent. "I have a plan" said Pandu "Let’s steal from that tea stall at that corner" Shankar was shocked at this suggestion. "Steal? Isn’t it something that’s bad?" Pandu threw the beedi aside and slapped Shankar. Harder this time. Shankar felt the ring permeating his senses. He struggled to hold back the tear that was making its way out of his eyes. He knew he would get hit again if he cried. He had learnt it the hard way.

Shankar and Pandu got to know each other under rather strange circumstances. One night in the orphan home, Pandu came late for dinner. The warden was mad at him and beat him. Shankar was so frightened looking at this, he peed in his pants. The warden ended up locking both of them into a room. They spent the night there. That was the beginning of their strange friendship. Shankar was beaten by Pandu on many occasions but somehow felt a strange sense of security beside him. When Pandu decided to get out of that place, Shankar gladly agreed to come along.

Pandu looked around. The street was fairly crowded. Saturday evenings were generally like that. Lovers walking, hand in hand, looking content. Women with shopping bags appearing satisfied with their massacre. The shopkeeper counting away his 100 rupee notes and looking around eagerly for more bait. Many others walked around like Alice- not knowing where they were going in which case it hardly mattered where they would end up.
The sweet smell of satisfaction was nauseating to Pandu. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. He wondered if a smile was something one needed to practice. Hunger once again clawed. Even the thought of a smile vanished and was replaced by an almost certain rage to fulfill hunger.

Pandu looked at the fat man in a sweet stall that looked quite prosperous. He looked physically inept to run making him a likely target. “Shankar, I will creep up to his shop and steal that bag of sweets hanging in front of the shop and run away. The shopkeeper is sure to start chasing me leaving the shop unattended. It should give you time to sneak away with all the food that you can grab. Run to our watering hole with the food and wait for me. You know what will happen to you if you try to eat the food without me, right?” Pandu gave Shankar a menacing look. Shankar meekly nodded to this and assured him that he would wait.

Pandu slowly made his way up to the stall. The shopkeeper was busy talking to one of his customers. The time seemed right. Pandu grabbed the packet of sweets that was up front and made a dash. The shopkeeper yelled, “Thief!” and began chasing him. Pandu meandered his way through the crowd cleverly. The shopkeeper was a bigger and heftier man. He shoved people aside and continued to chase Pandu. The chase was shortlived. He found a stone on the road. He threw it at Pandu. The stone struck him at the back of his head and he fell down instantly. A crowd started to form around him and the blood started to puddle. The shopeekper pulled the sweets out of his hand, dusted it and made his way back to the shop. Pandu’s face seemed to have a contorted smile on it. One cant be too sure if that was a smile. It was an expression that would remain frozen on his face. It was his last.

A steady rain poured down. The muncipal authorities arrived and threw the body into their van and left. After all, the streets needed to be cleansed. The dirt removed. No one bothered to think about what happened. A stray dog might have quivered at this sight. If it knew what quiver was.

Meanwhile, Shankar had made away with quite a haul of sweets and pakoras. It was late into the evening and Pandu had not turned up yet. The rain made him shiver. Shankar was quite tempted to eat the sweets but every time he wanted to touch them, he thought about the menacing look on Pandu’s face. He was sure Pandu would find out if he ate. The crumb stuck to the corner of his lip might give him away. He wished Pandu would come soon.

The evening turned darker and gave birth to the night. Darkness. Silence. A sudden growl. It was Shankar’s stomach. The animal within was clawing. He needed to do something about it.

He looked around to make sure no one was watching. His mouth watered at the thought of his first meal in three days. It all stopped however when the image of Pandu propped up in his mind. He soon ushered himself back to sleep. He tried to curl up into a position that made his stomach as small as possible.

Shrouded in darkness, the lone rat scurried away with every morsel it could find before running away into its hole. The food Shankar had brought with him seemed like a treasure trove to it. Shankar could hear it nibbling on the food he had with him. Hunger. He made a sudden motion with his hand and chased the rat away. His mind was a blank slate. His neurons no longer had the strength to feed images that might stop him. He picked up the food and ate. Tears welled in his eyes. He continued to eat. In the darkness

The beginning, the end or somewhere between

2006-01-08T00:33:00.000-08:00

Priya walked back home…sadness was in the air and it blew stiff. She could feel it ruffle through her hair and dry the tear drop that was about to fall. Amidst all the noise on the road,there was silence. She was making her way back home from the hospital. A few coughs accompanied with traces of blood prompted her to make her way for a test. It had been around for about a month but she had made every effort to hide the truth from her husband, Shankar. It would be hard. The end of life seemed to be waving its flag a little too soon for her. Wasn’t this just the beginning? A wonderful marriage, a new job.She knew that they did not have enough money to afford treatment. Perhaps, just enough to keep her going the extra mile. She walked back amidst the silence.

She smiled to herself when she thought about how Shankar would have to cook for himself. He was such an awful cook. She laughed when she thought about the time he mixed up sugar for salt when he made dinner. Nevertheless, it did make for a sweet evening. She would miss packing his lunch, waiting for him to come home to dinner. She saw the children playing at the park and thought about how she no longer needed to contend with the fact that she could have none. The sweet scent of jasmine tingled the days of romance. An innocent touch. A stolen kiss.

Cars honked, cycle bells clinked, the odd cow stood completely ominous to the traffic that surrounded it. Chewing. People shouted at the cow but it seemed quite well settled. Priya crossed the road amidst the cries. - Shooo! Can’t you leave!!! Stupid creature! It persisted. She walked past a glorious view of the cow and the sunset. Perhaps the first of her lasts. Every sunset would be different. But isn’t that true about everything? Life, cars, dogs, houses, rivers.

She reached home and found Shankar waiting for her. He looked at her in the eyes. The eyes are windows- open windows. Shankar went up to her and held her tight. It seemed to her that he knew all along. “I saw the stains” was all that he said. The tears made their way. This time it was happiness. She knew that she would be fine.

At that moment the white blood cells stopped dividing. They considered giving her a second chance. But the mutations were many and the chances of survival few. They continued to divide. This time unwillingly.

Its hard to say what drives the human soul onwards. Will Priya survive? I don’t know because this is where the story ends. Perhaps you can decide. Being a survivor is not always about cancer being cured. Reality is a lot harsher than that. To conquer cancer is to live until the forces of nature decide otherwise.

Crossing roads when the signs are green

2006-01-06T21:31:00.000-08:00

The easiest thing to do to while away two hours is to get a movie. A good movie makes it worth the time. A bad movie...regrettable. The Shining and Hotel Rwanda were two movies I watched over the week. (or maybe over two days)
Both movies were really worth it and the movie that really struck a chord within was Hotel Rwanda. I wont go about reviewing what it was about.

Briefly though, it talks about genocide that took place in Rwanda in 1994 where 800,000 people were killed over 100 days of the civil unrest.

The movie potrays two very key ideas:

1) How one man's efforts helped save the lives of many people in the country

2) The callousness of the so called 'superpowers' of the world.

No country extended a hand to help Rwanda out fo the crisis. The UN didnt budge becuse we all know that the UN is run by a bunch of guys with veto power. One disagrees and thats enough to send the UN back to its room. Timeout!

Vested interests are the key. I am quite sure that even Iraq was never in such a situation but here was Rwanda- left to rot. While the expenses of the US pile up in Iraq I wonder why there wasnt a shred of interest in matters relating to Rwanda.
President Clinton apoligised during his visit to the African continent. I guess that will help close to a million people close their eyes in peace.

The worst part is I can do nothing. N O T H I N G. All I do is watch the movie with Coke in my hand.. shed the odd tear...wipe it away seconds later and be angry. The feeling of being helpless is terrible. The feeling that not all of the world is in the palm of my hand, hurts. Do I sound pompous? I hardly feel that way. I cry because I cant do anything. I cry because the only person I take care of is myself.

The problems of the world are many. We are stilled worried about crossing the road when the lights are green.

Chicago

2005-12-23T21:19:00.000-08:00

I finally encountered Chicago. I cant say it more directly. I finally got to see Chicago! The air was fresh, cold, windy and everything that was Chicago came along with it. I couldn't have asked for more. Imagine a wind that can blow you right off pedestrian walks onto roads when traffic lights are still green. No I ain't jokin'!

Chicago by night was absolutely fabulous and a view from the 'top of the world' will tell you just that! Its strange that people dont want to go up there by night. Didn't Cindrella flap her wings by night? Independence? Well, lets just say I like the world spinning the other way. A clear view of the skyline of Chicago- lit up. A whole bunch small yellow lights zooming past at 40 mph. The rivers drifted softly. I couldnt hear a thing from up there.

The best was however yet to come - Millenium Park. I'm not the kind of person who gallavants to every major tourist spot. I prefer seeing what the city is like. It isn't the gigantic cloud art or some tower modelled like a champagne bottle that amazed me, but the laughter and smiles of the ice skaters at the park. That image sure does linger! A dash of love and a pinch of holiday spirit to taste. Smells good! Fabulous is the word that's closest to how I'm trying to describe what I saw. Everyone smiled. For once the world seemed like the happiest place ever. Even falling down while skating was greeted with gentle smiles. I still remember the songs that played and the ones that were a seranade to my heart. I shouldn't forget the occasional Santa who skated past with a beaming face.

I didnt go to the Art Museum, I didnt see what every tourist coming into Chicago probably sees. But I leave Chicago with no remorse. The city has given me more than what I asked for.
Look around Chicago for the romance. The boats of Venice need not set sail. A few thousand smiles should do.

The Stem Cell Controversy

2005-12-19T00:04:00.000-08:00

And then there was light.....well even God took his own sweet time to say that. Apoligies to those who saw empty pages in the shallow depths of my blog and passed by. For those who came back, the flower whose seed lay buried in those waters has bloomed and those who now come can feel the fragrance drift past.

The news surrounding Dr.Woo Suk Hwang proceeds at such a rapid pace thats its quite hard to keep track of the events that are unfolding. For those who are not familair with the controversy surrounding this issue...

Dr. Hwang had earlier announced the cloning of the first human embryo from which he extracted stem cells (Stem cells are useful for treating diseases like Parkinsons) He followed this up with the cloning of a dog- Snuppy!
To understand the magnitude of this, lets say this is like Brian Lara when he scored back to back centuries to singe handedly defeat the Australians in 1998 (a test series that became a draw but the innings went down as one of the best ever!)
So there it was- a sudden leap of Korea into main stream science, Dr. Hwang became a national hero and a possible Nobel in the future. Whew! The Americans were fairly frustrated as they felt that their research had not made as much progress thanks to the White house.

Then came the controversies, back to back, Lord of the rings Part 1 and Part 2....
1) Ethical concerns about how the ova for the experiments were acquired (ova from members of the lab were used which violates the international ethical codes for scientific experimentation)

2) A possibility for fabrication of results in a paper submitted to Science in June. (these charges are yet to be tested and proved)

Inspite of this, Dr. Hwang enjoys public support and he still stands by his results. Only time will tell what cruel diversions fate might take. Of course, the media will watch and so will we!

Interesting to note though, IF Dr. Hwang is proved wrong, California is apparently where the breakthrough might come from. Now isnt that convenient? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

*Sciam Blog(awesome reading to know how the plot unfolds)

The broken wall

2005-12-03T17:25:00.000-08:00

I wandered along a broken wall

Pensive. Lost
afraid I would fall.
I treaded softly as it meandered
Trepidation. Thought.
Should I slip, would I fall
The cloud of doubt that looms over
Darkness. Light.
The shores are lovely across the land
But so is the water
The flowers are beautiful in the bloom
But so are the leaves that caress
Which side do I fall; love?
Will it be the death of virtue,
Destiny shall lead me,
Guided. Blindfolded.
Faith or the lack of it
Hope and the abundance of it
A shiver and every thought that comes with it
As I hold onto destiny’s unfailing hand
Cold. Uncertain.
I slip………

Cow Shampoo- its good for your hair!

2005-11-28T20:54:00.000-08:00

THE PURPOSE OF THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE SAKE OF HUMOUR ALONE BUT ALSO TO MAKE YOU THINK ABOUT THE MISCONCEPTIONS THAT THRIVE AMONG PEOPLE. READ ON.

I'm sure you must have encountered that wierd search term on your blogstats that lead to your blog and I know none of you are complaining about it. MSN search leads to my blog when you type the terms 'lost cow shampoo'. Who in the world would be on the look out for cow shampoo? The sherlock in me began to find out what cow shampoo was and yes it actually exists! For those of you who are interested here's the recipe.

Ingredients: -
Cow urine 2 kilo
Aritha (English: Soap nut tree, Latin: Sapindus trifoliatus) 50 gm
Camphor dali 15 gm,
Ajwain (English: Country barage, Latin: Coelus amboinicus) sat 10 gm.

Process of manufacture: -
Crush aritha (Soap nut tree fruit) to form fine powder and put it in cow urine. Then evaporate the liquid part of this mixture while stirring it. Take it off from fire when 500 gm remains. Filter it. Mix camphor and Ajwain sat (Essence of Country barage) in a bottle for some time. Then mix it with rest of the filtered cow urine.

Utility: -
Apply in hairs while taking bath (where else would one apply shampoo!!)

Check out the link for the website: Cow Urine manual

I'm sure some of you have already started wondering what it tastes like-
pungent, hot, easily digestible
(No! I haven't tried it previously..I'm just going by the book)

Only cow urine of cow of Indian breed should be used for treatment
(to me this appears very racist!)

It gets even more scandolous. Here are some of the exceprts which shocked me!

Excerpts from a really long article that details different cow urine recipes and the miraculous properties that it bestows:

How long can it be preserved?

Cow urine is useful eternally, lifelong. It should be covered nicely to avoid dust
(probably because the cow lives only in sterile environments. Shoo cow! go away from that dustbin)

What is the dose for pregnant women and child?

Half the general dose.
(I thought pregnant women were supposed to be given milk with saffron!!)

Why diseases occur?

Following are the reasons..........
Due to working against the voice of soul (i.e. immoral sinful activities).
Due to sins committed in previous births.
Due to entrance of spirits in body.
(And to think that the world wasted all its time trying to award Nobel Prizes to people who figured out what disease is :P )

How cow urine wins over diseases?

Cow urine has amazing germicidal power to kill varieties of germs. All germ generated diseases are thus destroyed.
Cow urine contains many minerals especially copper etc. It compensates for bodily mineral deficiency. Presence of gold salts protects body against diseases.
Cow urine is an elixir. Stops ageing process. Destroys diseases.
(If it was so valuable why doesnt the darn cow keep it!)

And much much more.....so check out the link.

To me this appears to be a whole lot of bullshit (this is in no way indicative of any medicinal properties that it might possess and I sincerely hope not.) If the consumption of cows afflicted with Mad cow disease in Europe lead to havoc, I wonder what would happen if.........

Utter chaos

2005-11-28T19:42:00.000-08:00

I recently came across an article on chaos theory which sent my grey cells into action. Chaos theory is based on the statement that the final state of the system is 'extremely sensitive' to the intial conditions.

The "Butterfly Effect" is often ascribed to Lorenz. In a paper in 1963 given to the New York Academy of Sciences he remarks:

One meteorologist remarked that if the theory were correct, one flap of a seagull's wings would be enough to alter the course of the weather forever.
By the time of his talk at the December 1972 meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science in Washington, D.C. the sea gull had evolved into the more poetic butterfly - the title of his talk was
Predictability: Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil set off a Tornado in Texas?

Here is an interesting link on the Butterfly effect. You can see the butterfly emerge in an applet

A day in the life of a normal person like me turns out to be quite exciting because of this. I wake up in the morning and yawn forgetting that my yawn sets off Hurricane Watzizname.
Coffee! Add sugar and stir and you end up being responsible for the tornado in Brazil.
Sneeze and you just sent the whole universe into turmoil and a kitten got run over by a car because of this. This is indeed a cruel world.

So remember, when a slap is what greets you on opening your heart to a girl, or that F grade stares at you blatantly on your arithmetic test, or even when Ganguly has a bad bat. Its no ones fault. No one is to blame except for the butterfly that flapped its wings in the Amazon.

The Thanksgiving day sale

2005-11-26T06:12:00.000-08:00

And finally the phenomenon called Thanksgiving is over. Though it seemed like any other day- cold and windy and I'm wishing that I could be on a frying pan until I thawed away... but no it still was just another day out here. Black friday happens to be the time that the big sales are on...when people are waiting in the lines from 2 or 3 in the morning. I wonder if they feel cold.

Apparently that is the challenge..to bear the freezing wind, to wait at the end of a line that just made it to 1.2 miles, to make it past the entrance without getting trampled. Yes! Darwin was right. This is the survival of the fittest.

I realized there are three kinds of shoppers: The ones who are truly into the sport of shopping, who shop not because they need something but truly shop for the sake of shopping. That is so noble! Their lives rest upon the sole aim of making the world a happy place to live in by shopping (well it is happy for them!) You can easily spot them since they will be the only ones with sleeping bags in their hands when they go for shopping.

The second kind of shopper is the one who needs something but also develops the urge to get more than what he needs. Thats the sale factor. At the end, you find that he gets tires for a truck that he never owned and you wonder why- "Because they are free after mail in rebate" or the guy who purchases 100 bags of doggy biscuit- "because they said you get one free if you buy 99 bags!" But yes their lives are happy ones as well. (except when they need to fill in the mail in rebate forms)

The third kind of shopper is the one who goes there because everyone else goes. Its a hangout, a bar, lots of people, lots of fun. This guy is the player.....the kind who is always on the look out to open the door because the woman's hands are full or just around to say "Oh you dropped something, let me pick it up for you. And by the way my number is....."

There are other categories as well like the ones who have no choice but to go since they need to drive the shoppers of category one, two or three to the mall..but then again I will leave the process of making this list any longer to you. Drop me a note if you have classified any more shoppers.

The one's who stay at home sleeping deserve special mention. Though they might be regarded as the scum looked down upon by the rest of the world, they are the ones who experience true salvation. A warm room, coffee when they wake up and the contentment of owning a toothbrush that isnt free after mail in rebate.

The price of integrity

2005-11-22T20:54:00.000-08:00

This morning seemed like any other morning until Vivek pointed me to a blog by Gaurav. It relates the the murder of an ex- IIM student who was murdered for placing a seal on a petrol bunk on account of the sale of adulterated petrol. Sad as it seems, looks like integrity has a heavy price to pay.

Gaurav weaves this in very nicely: "Rest in peace, Machan. Whatever place you are at right now, I am sure you are rocking it. You staked your life on your integrity. I really doubt if I would have done the same, had I been in your shoes. Hats off, and bye, Manju."

A penny for my thoughts 2

2005-11-13T19:09:00.000-08:00

the firecracker

Photo: Childcare and poverty alleviation in Gujarat, India

Sundar and Jumboo waited anxiously outside a quaint little room of a Government hospital. Just like any other Government hospital, it didn’t seem a hospital at all, but that was all fifty rupees could afford…

As Shashi Tharoor beautifully put it, “While driving forward in life it’s sometimes good to take a look into the rear view mirror.” And exactly seven days before this was what had happened.

As the hours drift like the lonely clouds into the glorious sunset, one day always inevitably leads to another. Just put the days together and a month suddenly comes into light. Such months, twelve of them had almost passed. For Sundar and Vijay and a whole lot of other people in India it meant that the Festival of lights, the wonderful festival called Diwali was just around the corner with just seven days to go. Sundar was eleven years old, a cheerful and fun- loving boy, who always was in the happiest of moods. One could hardly have seen a tear on his face. For him, life was wonderful (though I am certain he had no idea as to what the word ‘life’ ever meant). Vijay was the tiny tot, the one who needed care and support, being only eight years old. Not that Sundar himself was too old, but he was a boy who was determined to take responsibilities into his hand. This necessity wouldn’t have arose to any school going kid on the busy streets of Chennai, but the two boys represented the dearth of the Indian society, the downtrodden and the demeaned, that’s how society had deemed their lives to be. Society…the combination of people who call themselves cultured but would take every liberty to behave in the nastiest of ways you could ever see. People, who would cut you down at every chance and at every traffic signal, giving them a sense of achievement worth speaking of in life. Sundar and Vijay were rag pickers, the very word that sends out shock waves into the heads of some people. Well they were a little dirty, having had minimal opportunities to take a bath, and of course they don’t use a Yves Saint Laurent, but otherwise I guess they are pretty much human. Pretty much consisting of the very same blood we are made of and breathing the same polluted air amidst which we live our lives.

The Festival of Diwali is perhaps the most adulated and adored festivals of all celebrated in India- A most colourful and joyous event, that spares no community in India. Sundar and Vijay had watched them year after year. They had seen the smiles on the people, when the wick of the firecracker is lit, and when the anxiety of waiting turns to joy as the night sky glows with the brilliance of a thousand suns. A year before, Sundar and Vijay had vowed to light one of those firecrackers on the next Diwali. Their job fetched them very little revenue, that they hardly found sufficient to fill their own stomachs, but the burning desire within them pushed them to save every possible rupee to buy that one of those wonderful firecrackers.

That morning, Vijay peeped into one of the houses in the neighbourhood. He looked earnestly into the house but at the same time cautiously. And he saw the calendar!It showed that there were seven more days to go before Diwali. His joy couldn’t be contained and he rushed back and woke up a tired Sundar. Pain meant nothing at that moment of ecstasy. He told Sundar in his own twisted way, “Seven days to go!!!!!.” But that was good enough for Sundar who gave a weary smile. “We have collected Hundred rupees so far Vijay, I think we can make a little more money over the next three days and buy those firecrackers.”, said Sundar. Vijay gave a tight hug to Sundar. The sun had just begun to rise. It’s a pity that the two had to wake up at such an early hour of the day but life hadn’t endowed them with a place to live. Platforms would get very crowded soon and inconsiderate people might step onto a hand or a leg. Sundar tugged at his sack and Vijay just tagged along. “Let us go and see Jumboo”, said Sundar “ I hope he is in a good mood today”.

Jumboo was an old man who took care of the news mart. Sundar would go and give him his share of collections for the day and in return Jumboo would give him some money. Jumboo invariably was never in a good mood. He found it odd that people could be happy and cheerful. However, he knew the lives that the little boys lead. He had known their mother and father who died in a tragic accident, which had forced these two boys onto the streets. Jumboo had a soft corner for the two of them. Vijay rushed and hugged Jumboo and excitedly said,” Jumboo Maama, Diwali is fast approaching and Sundar and I are going to buy a certain firecracker.” His eyes lit up as he explained how that ‘certain’ firecracker would go up and burst in the sky into a thousand colours. Jumboo listened with patience and at the end of it said, “Well here both of you , take 10 rupees. My Diwali gift for you.” He smiled. His smile was a rare thing to see. In your life time you might see more giant pandas than Jumbooji’s smiles. Sundar unloaded his collections and Jumboo took a good look at them and gave the boy 20 rupees. Sundar thought to himself about how ‘lucky’ they were.

In front of Vijay’s eager eyes, Sundar counted out the money they had collected carefully. They needed only fifty rupees. That night after their frugal dinner they kept staring at the sky. Sundar said, “Do you see that star up there that is shining brightly Vijay:? Jumboo once told me that Papa and Mama stay there. How worried they must be about us! But then when we send that firecracker right up into the sky and it bursts out into a thousand colours with all it’s glory, maybe it will tell them that we are happy and that life down here is as wonderful as can be. Next Diwali we will send them an even better cracker!” But nay, Vijay was fast asleep. Sundar tender eye’s too grew heavy. Just as the tender lily floats down amidst a stormy breeze and slowly falls to the earth, Sundar’s eyes closed with happiness.

The next two days were very busy for Sundar and Vijay as they worked hard to make up the void of money. Finally they had earned their fifty rupees! Vijay couldn’t wait to buy the firecrackers, but Sundar was prudent to decide that, being a little late into the night, they rather buy their firecrackers the next day morning. Dawn comes quickly to those who sleep well. The sun rose and the day had dawned..the day before Diwali.

The city was at it’s best. People were in a shopping frenzy. Children were even happier, tugging away at the wicks of their favourite firecrackers and lighting them, watching them go off with a big bang. They found it very exciting. Grandmothers were the busiest of them all. They took charge of the kitchen making Diwali sweets. The city seemed to take on a life of it’s own. Diwali seemed to take on a life of it’s own. Sundar and Vijay loitered the streets strewn with the remenants of the firecrackers. They couldn’t wait to get to the shop and buy their own firecracker. Sundar thought to himself as he always did “How lucky we are!”

Children will always be children. Carelessness comes hand in hand with their very innocence. A lone fire cracker had been lit by an infant and he rushed back into safety. He shut his eyes and ears and waited. Fate is very strange and invariably puts you in the wrong place at the wrong time, and so it was for Vijay. His timing was impeccable and the cracker went off with a bang, on Vijay’s leg. Vijay screamed with agony. Sundar was shocked. He immediately carried Vijay to Jumboo’s shop. Jumboo, as I have said seldom showed any emotions, but the situation demanded it. He quickly put down the shutter of his shop, which was doing extremely well on the holiday, and helped Sundar take Vijay to the hospital.

That brings us back to the quaint little government hospital outside which, Sundar stood along with a worried Jumboo. The doctor came out assuring them that all was fine. Sundar rushed inside and saw Vijay lying down. The wound fortunately, wasn’t very serious. Vijay gave a little smile. The enthusiasm and ecstacy had disappeared…so had their fifty rupees. Vijay, with a small sniffle, said “I’m sorry Sundar. It was because me that we couldn’t buy the firecracker. Now Mama and Papa will never know that we are happy here. ” Sundar had no answer.

Jumboo then patted them both and said in the kindest of voices, “Sundar and Vijay, do you think your Mama and your Papa need a firecracker to let them know you are happy?
The concern that Sundar showed for you is more than anything in the world that would let them know the two of you are happy. So forget about the firecrackers and take some rest.” He then told them sternly, “I knew that these firecrackers were always wretched things, so NO MORE firecrackers!”

Sundar smiled weakly but little did Jumboo know that he had already started to plan out how he was going to buy the firecracker next Diwali.

Life is a whirligig and humans are meek creatures falling into the same well again and again and again……

Bath and beyond

2005-11-03T21:11:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: If reading this article has a profound influence on you and as a consequence of it you lose out on an amazing social life that you had, I am not responsible.

to bathe or not to bathe that is the question Hamlet asked and 200 years later I asketh this to thee...

I love wrtiting about baths simply because I don’t like taking them. I think they are a waste of time. They are rituals man has been cursed to perform to please the bath god. While people end up wasting a few minutes of their precious day pleasing Bathus maximus (Latinizing it to make it sound like a greek god) - probably because he will grant them three wishes after they have worshipped him for a hundred years- I have breakfast or catch up on lost sleep. One bath a day is understandable (though I recommend a bath in probably two days for the larger interests of mankind which I will elaborate on) but then, there are these strange people probably from Planet Gazook who take three or four a day.

Hmmm… apparently baths keep people clean. I wonder where people got this impression from , inspite of rubbing a piece of slime that has gone through a lot in fifteen days of the month and is still being put to this act of eternal damnation. But then I must concede that baths do help keep odour away and that’s probably the only reason why I reluctantly take one at least once in two days. For times when I don’t there is always Calvin Kline or Axe to the rescue. Made for each other. We are. (does this sound like Hemmingway?)

Water statistics (mine of course) indicate that 10.01 litres of water is used up for every bath (of course this is a minimal requirement excluding those who like to soak in tonnes of it and cause regional water shortage problems) You can do the math to figure out how much this exploding population of ours consumes. Yup! You are right…we consume an exploding quantity of water.

Friends Romans and umm…and umm…. And yea the rest of you guys…listen up! Every time you take a bath, think of the water that falls off you and ends up in the sewer treatment plant. Think globally. About Somalia where people need to walk miles to get a litre of water. Water is a global resource and conserving it anywhere in the world is conserving it for the whole. Think of the future generations to come. Show them some of the blue that you saw along the shores. (yuck! I sound like a sentimental pig out here...but if it works I' d do anything!)

Not to forget the potential dangers in bathing such as drowning in your bath tub or slipping in the shower or ...or....something terrible happens!

So whats the first thing I would do if I become ‘king of the world’ or maybe president of the U of A would do. (considering its easy to do that provided your IQ is below zero like mine is) One day is all that you have and one bath is more than what you need (sounds like a catchy one liner for the presidential campaign). Maybe I should institute a ‘No bathing day’ to remind people of the solemn responsibility that rests in their hands. Conserving water and oh not to forget- world peace! (the tag line that gets people krying) Wonder if the next Miss Universe will model for my campaign...... after all we share common interests- namely world peace.

So what are the solutions to taking conservative baths:
Ideally one would like to not take a bath at all..since this has some practical limitations (like the lack of a social life or generally people preferring to talk to you over the phone), workable options include waiting for the rains. If you are in India, you should keep in mind that it might be a while before your first bath. If you are in the Sahara, dont bother.

I’m sure that some of you would have realized how wasted your life has been with all the baths that you have taken and how much harm you have caused the planet. Trust me! Its not too late to change. Big things come in small packages and its this small act that you can perform that can make a huge difference to the evolution of the human race.

So, if you are reading this article in the morning and are just about to pick up your towel you know what to do! Drop me a line if this article has changed your life ☺ Remember that with every bath you end up not taking you earn a brownie point. Don’t forget to let me know how many brownie points you secure at the end of the month. Exciting prizes to be won if you earn 30 points next month!!!!!!

Signing off......

A penny for my thoughts

2005-10-30T11:58:00.000-08:00

waiting

Raj decided to make a boat. It was not a very big boat but not a small one either. So it was a small big boat with masts and sails drawn to perfection. He was only ten years old but had a genius level instinct for carpentry and the consequence of this was the boat. He loved every moment that he spent with it. He usually used to let the boat sail on a lake and watch it graze past the lilies. It floated with a life of its own….with no direction, drifting the way the wind decided it would go. Suddenly he felt that there was something wrong….the boat did not have a sailor; someone who would steer the ship through the waters. So came into existence, the icon of his life. Tim the sailor. Tim was probably the bravest of the brave, the strongest of the strong and the most superlative of any other word that you can come up with. His courage saw no bounds as he took the ship across the darkest of lands to save the poor elfin creatures. And then there was this adventure where he dives into the water to find the Diamond of Shebha. Pirates and sword fights, wizards and magic………Tim did the impossible and Raj was proud of him. Raj said, “Tim, this is just the beginning …there will be a day when you shall sail the seas” Raj wondered if the sea was more exciting. The lake was a wonderful place with an audience of birds watching, the trees leaning over and trying to get a glimpse and the sun twinkling like a thousand stars along the water. But the sea was another world.

Raj detested time. It had the strange property of disappearing before you knew it was around. He hated it when the evening came since that meant he had to go home. Home was not too far away. A ten minute hop skip and jump past the bushes and across the creek. He never knew his parents. His uncle had always taken care of him. Every night, Raj told his uncle stories about Tim’s adventures on the sea. His uncle loved the boy very much and took care of him like the son he never had. It’s such irony that people have so little of what they want most.

Sree was a man in love. Don’t you know what it is? Oh that’s the time when roses are no longer red and violets are no longer blue….the moonlight is brighter than the sun and you always saw the stars not in the night, but in her eyes! Sree had his checklist right and so for all practical purposes one can conclude that he was in love. He was about twenty-one and that was a nice time to be in love. A little responsibility and someone to share it with. One day she had asked him to come to the beach. It was a nice warm, sunny day. He looked at it as an exciting prospect wherein they could enjoy the sight of the waters. Nature’s patterns are very interesting for anyone who happened to take notice. The water always comes and leaves, taunting tempting….you try to hold onto it but then it slips away, right through your fingers. And when you thought you had lost it, the waters smiling with glee come back for you to make another futile attempt. But that’s something that we as human beings relish….

He waited for her to come and in time he could see her approaching. His heart skipped a beat as she came closer. She smiled at him…. it had been a month since she had first seen him. A flood of memories…moments and she said, “Sree, I’m not sure if this is all going to work out. Things have sped past us at such a pace that I don’t know what to think of this whole thing.” He looked into her eyes, and said, just one word, “Love”. She turned away, saying “I am not sure what that is. Perhaps you need to wait… wait a bit more.”

Raj decided that he would take Tim to the sea. It was fairly close to the village. A lot longer than his usual ten minute walk but then he thought Tim was all set to ride the seas.
It was a warm, sunny day and Raj decided to start his day early. He knew that Bholu, the milkman always rode to the town where the sea was. “Bholu maama, I want to come to the town with you.”, said Raj. Bholu loved to talk. He didn’t care if the other person even heard what he had to say. He just needed another person around so that people didn’t think that he was crazy. Everyday, he saw trees and wished they could hear him as he passed them by…. ever since his wife died in the riots during the Emergency. He still remembered the night when he had stayed up waiting for her….it was a week before he knew of her death. He was quite pleased to take Raj along with him. There was a soul to accompany him through a few moments of his life.

Raj jumped onto the cart, which made its way through the town. And then came the sea. Raj bade farewell and promised he would make it home safely before nightfall. The sea was calling out from all directions and Raj wondered where Tim might want to sail to. Would he like to fight the Dragons that lived in the Far East or the demons that lived in the North Pole? Tim didn’t have much to say.

Sree looked at her …he didn’t have a reply for that one. He still held her hands. He didn’t want to let go. “I must leave now.” she said sounding rather unemotional. The words in Sree’s mind were like those that were part of a dictionary…. waiting to be used but they would just stay. Static. And with only a memory to hold onto…he still held her hands as she walked away….far away. He wondered what the last thing she said was.

Raj decided to get the boat sailing. Tim hopped onto the boat and stood still. Raj gave a standard salute to Tim. Tim was a hero….his hero. He would finally sail the seas. Raj told Tim not to be too long. He knew that sometimes Tim could go onto these long adventures where he is battling to save the innocent or save the land from the dreaded Mordors. There was quite a crowd on the sea on that day. Vendors of all kind, shouting out in all directions, were everywhere. But the world of Raj was very different. It was Tim, himself and the sea. Tim set out and as the waters came in. The ship sped away as the waters receded and floated away. Raj watched as the waters came in and went away, slipping out of his hands every time he tried to hold onto it.

Back in the village, Bholu had reached home after a long day’s work. The sun had been rather harsh during the day but the night was cool. His ride home took him past Raj’s home. Bholu saw Raj’s uncle standing outside and pacing around. It was a rather odd time for someone to be up in the village. Bholu asked, “Sahib, why are you awake at this time in the night?” He just gave him a blank stare and said, “I’m just waiting.”

The Sun took its everyday walk from East to West and returned to its dwelling somewhere deep in the waters. People became scarce as the hours went by. And as the darkness deepened, Sree stood by the waters wondering where his life would go from here. He realized after a while, that he was not alone….there was a boy sitting by the shore as well, watching the waters come and go. “Boy, what are you doing out so late in the night. Shouldn’t you be home sleeping?” Raj turned around to see who called out to him. He saw the man by the sea and realized he was not alone. He wondered if this man had a boat sailing by the sea too. “Sir, I cant hear you…what did you say?”, he asked. Sree got a little closer to him and said, “What are you doing out here at this hour?” Raj smiled and said, “I’m waiting….just waiting”

Amidst the colours of fall

2005-10-30T10:48:00.000-08:00

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Originally uploaded by kauwee_123.

Ode to Autumn

- John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.

The end of a day blog

2005-10-29T19:13:00.000-07:00

This blog has gone without direction for sometime now. Its like many roads diverging in a wood and I have ended up taking all of them. Robert Frost would be unhappy with the way I have used his lines but then lets just say I'm entiteld to poetic license.

I just had this awfully unproductive day dwelling in the realms of solitude which at times can be such a rewarding experience but no!!! this definitely was not one of those days. Its the kind of day that one likes to get to a clock and turn the dials around.Turn them right where the day started and hope to retrace the path in a way that I would have liked to....

Then again in retrospect, I'm almost at the end of the day and trying to figure out what part of this entire day gave me the happiness to get by. Perhaps its the few hours of sleep that I got or was it the few moments of joy that I got when the cold wind rushed through my senses....what really gives me happiness is a really hard question to answer. I wonder if its a more generic question and ends up worrying others as well.

Anyways as I conclude this day trying to introspect, I think i will end with no answers. But then I'm glad I dont have any answers. I dont want any for in all this uncertainity I shall take joy in the mystery that is life.

Signing off...

Paheli, Black and a blundering move for the Oscars

2005-09-28T13:17:00.000-07:00

Does anyone ever value an opinion? But since opinions are a part of your identity Im gonna go ahead and write this. The choice of Paheli over Black. I am too passionate a 'Black' fan to be covinced of being plaigarised in any manner.
but I must of course admit that I havent seen Paheli but got the nuts and bolts of the story. The story was nothing short of a gimmick. A ghost in a love story seems very innovative but too far fetched considering that the ghost get Rani pregnant.
Love stories can go the extra mile twist around the corners, bend trees and fly faster than the speed of light...improbabilities are allowed but then arent these the limits?
let me give, what at the outset is a very biased and passionate claim for Black. It has a wonderful script- a touching tale spiced up excellently with spectacular cinematography and very moving background score. I am not embaressed to admit that I cried twice for the movie, inspite of, what I must admit, having a tame ending compared to the way it began.
But when a movie like Black gets so much right, the wrongs can be brushed under the carpet. In contrast Paheli is a movie with equally marvelling cinematography (obviously because they had the same cinematographer) but thats the only thing that they get right in the movie.
IF IN THE MOST IMPROBABLE OF SCENARIOS- PAHELI WINS AN OSCAR, it will be because the Americans might have never seen a movie like this! for one thing I would never want to! :D

I am a very disappointed fan but Im sure Sanjay Leela Bhansali can take happiness in the outrage that has come up as a consequence of this. I think the people's opinion matters more than any damn committee sitting either in India or the U of A.

IF YOU HAVE NOT YET WATCHED BLACK - ALL I CAN SAY IS- BLACK IS AN EXPERIENCE THAT DEFINITELY TAKES YOU FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT.

An unfinished blog

2005-09-22T20:22:00.000-07:00

The hardest thing to do in life is to think of something to write…..it especially becomes a lot harder if you try to hope that people end up reading your blog. I still don’t know how that happens but what I do know is that some people write and others read.
I envy some writers that’s for sure…I wonder what really gives them the words to fit into each spot. Its as if the word was destined to be there.
What lines are these but those worthy of being immortalized when one says Beauty is truth and truth beauty.
Some of the poems that I posted on this blog are truly immortal in their own right.
Howver just like the unknown singer whom everyone tips a penny on the roads, these people pass by and get trampled upon…are like the slush after the rains that people hope to get rid off…of course my description is exaggerated and is in a style that is hardly suited for this kind of writing but hey where did all the good guys go?

The Sleeping Beauty- my favourite

2005-07-24T04:24:00.000-07:00

THERE was intoxication in the air;
The wind, keen blowing from across the seas,
O'er leagues of new-ploughed land and heathery leas,
Smelt of wild gorse whose gold flamed everywhere.
And undertone of song pulsed far and near,
The soaring larks filled heaven with ecstasies,
And, like a living clock among the trees,
The shouting cuckoo struck the time of year.

For now the Sun had found the earth once more,
And woke the Sleeping Beauty with a kiss;
Who thrilled with light of love in every pore,
Opened her flower-blue eyes, and looked in his.
Then all things felt life fluttering at their core--
The world shook mystical in lambent bliss.

Tears- Elizabeth barret Browning

2005-07-24T04:22:00.000-07:00

Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
More grief than ye can weep for. That is well -
That is light grieving! lighter, none befell
Since Adam forfeited the primal lot.
Tears! what are tears ? The babe weeps in its cot,
The mother singing, at her marriage-bell
The bride weeps, and before the oracle
Of high-faned hills the poet has forgot
Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace,
Ye who weep only! If, as some have done,
Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place

And touch but tombs, - look up I those tears will run
Soon in long rivers down the lifted face,
And leave the vision clear for stars and sun

Prospice by Robert Browning

2005-07-24T04:12:00.000-07:00

Fear death?--to feel the fog in my throat,
The mist in my face,
When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
I am nearing the place,
The power of the night, the press of the storm,
The post of the foe;
Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form;
Yet the strong man must go:
For the journey is done and the summit attained,
And the barriers fall,
Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,
The reward of it all.
I was ever a fighter, so--one fight more,
The best and the last!
I would hate that Death bandaged my eyes, and forbore,
And made me creep past.
No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers,
The heroes of old,
Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears
Of pain, darkness and cold.
For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave.
The black minute's at end,
And the elements' rage, the fiend voices that rave,
Shall dwindle, shall blend,
Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain.
Then a light, then thy breat,
O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again,
And with God be the rest!

A poet at the corner- a collection of my favourites

2005-07-24T04:07:00.000-07:00

Hi all those who visit,

This series of blogs are some of the poems that appear to me to be the most moving, touching and delve into depths within- so deep that I never knew.

Open Book

2005-06-22T09:24:00.000-07:00

I was tagged by Deepa Ramakrishnan at a time when I was still fresh into blogs and tryin to figure out what this open book stuff is all about. I hope I've got it right..

So books that I would love to read...Im the kind of reader who reads a book once and never again. Of course there are those awful text books that I need to keep reading againand again and again. Thank god this has nothing to do with it.

Cider House Rules- John Irving- a lovely book on the life of an orphan who refuses to leave, a doctor who performs abortions and loves ether...a girl whom he falls in love with....

No.1 ladies Detective agency- Alexandar McCall Smith- A charming book about a woman who starts a detective agency in Africa

The Guide- R.K. Narayan- a classic for sure!!

Da Vinci Code- Dan Brown- everyone knows what this is about

Doctors- Erich Segal- a really long and lovely story.. the kind for which no ending is good enough.

Love in the time of Cholera- Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Hope you will experience the same joy I got out of these books when I read them...

'Anniyan'- Vikram all the way!

2005-06-18T11:06:00.000-07:00

Its hard to say what drives anyone to see a movie when its first out...some people love the thrill in watching it first, others take a more analytical approach and wait to watch what others have to say about it. Let me tell you- Anniyan is one movie where you dont have to wait for a second person’s opinion to decide to watch it.

Its hard to call it a Shankar movie or a Vikram movie- the grandeur that accompanies a Shankar pic is there in every shot and the effort that Vikram has put in as an actor is very very evident as well. I think this is a role even Kamal might have found to be a stretch,

I’m now an hour fresh out of Anniyan with the opening song- Sukumari running in the background and tryin to think of where to start about the movie. Anniyan is a typical Shankar story with one man out to correct the world (ya right! like its gonna happen!)

Ramanujam is a typical Iyengar and is awfully religious, dotes his parents, loves a girl (Sada) but cant express his love for her since he thinks of it as violating his principles. Imagine, a guy giving a love letter to the girl's parents and telling them to give it to her IF they think his action is correct. (the heights of being an absolute goodie goodie!)

Vivek plays the role of Ramanujam’s friend and comes up with very clean and laudable humour. He plays a policeman trying to investigate a series of murders taking place.
(You won’t get a prize for guessing that Anniyan is responsible for these murders)

Ramanujam is a lawyer and is affectionately called Rules Ramanujam. He believes in upholding every rule in the book.Then again, the world is anticlockwise, cars drive in reverse (metaphorically of course) - in short the world isn’t as ideal as he wants it to be.

He resorts to legal ways to seek justice but always fails in every venture of his. It’s not long before Shankar ties up Anniyan and Ramanujam Its the old idea of a website www.anniyan.com (oh, by the way the website doesn't really exist- I even tried accessing it) and Ramanujam puts up his grievance. It is at this point that the viewer thinks - Oh boy, typical Four students, Ramana et al. kind of movie. Well lets accept it…. The world has very few stories in it and Shankar picked one from the lot.

Now lets move on, Anniyan obviously reads the post and murders the guy who commited the crime. The killings are gruesome and one wonders what the theme behind the killings is. Prakash Raj plays a police officer, to whom Vivek is assistant, investigates the case.

At this point there is a little ice I need to break- dont worry this isnt a high point of the movie- Anniyan and Ramanujam are actually the same person and well there’s one more charecter that enters the soup bowl called Remo. Vikram suffers from multiple personality disorder. Now our innocent Ramanujam loves Sada but Sada does not like an 'amanji' like Ramanujam and wants some one more interesting and someone who would sweep her off her feet. Enter Remo, a ramp walk model dancing with Yana Gupta, and she’s already in love.

So the story moves in this fashion with Remo loving Sada, Ramanujam struggling in court (of course Sada ditches him) and Anniyan killing people by some gruesome method.

The story line is already failing with Anniyan being excessively strong (he beats up a hundred guys at one stroke- u wont believe it even if you watch it) There is also another scene where, Anniyan calls everyone to Nehru stadium and tells them about how India is in a pathetic condition. Inspite of a zillion police officers guarding the stadium our man escapes (unbeliveable again….but this is a Shankar movie). Ramanujam can’t obviously carry the rest of the movie and Remo is one chumma charecter.

So now what does Shankar do?

Well Im struggling to write this review since I’m not sure how much to reveal but trust me I haven’t spoken much at all.

I think I will stop here by saying that at his point where the movie is falling apart Vikram does a tremendous job in holding it all together. Vikram is absolutely superb in all three charecters and it’s immensely exciting to watch him switch characters.

Obviously, in the end Sada marries Ramanujam and there is a happy ending...but is it the end? Watch it and find out for yourselves.

Would appreciate it if you got back to me about it...

When Sundays are not really Sundays

2005-06-12T08:49:00.000-07:00

Today is not really Sunday. I try to think of it as being a Monday or a uesday since it helps me sleep better. But then there is this thing called morning newspaper and its out there and waiting right at my doorspte for me to pick it up and say "Hey its sunday!" I love the Sunday magazine on Hindu, I love the morning coffee that goes with it et al.

Well today was not really that kind of a day..I got up awfully late. 10 I think was when I saw the clock. (people this is late by my standards) Anyways life these days has been a real drag ...
I put on the TV and hey there is this awesome Big Fight on NDTV. Advani was the scape goat. Poor guy is in such deep shit after his Pakistani adventure.

Then the clock moved clockwise unfortunately and then I found the time to be 1. I watched this movie called Keladi Kanmani which is Vasanth's directorial debut. It came for the billionth time on Raj TV. But then again its really worth it. There are so many aspects of the movie which showcase the directors ability to bring across the emotion and the moments. The movie is about a little girl who refuses to give way to another woman to take her dead mother's place and be a part of her fathers life. When she grows older and she rethinks her life, she is deperate to right her wrongs. Unfortunately fate stretches places its hand on the girl and she is fighting the odds against an illness that could nd her life. Ultimately the movies climax is how the father unites with the woman he loved and the consequence of the illness is left in a bunch of ellipses. A real tear jerker on thw whole.

Post movie watching was shopping...guess what the deal was! Shop for Rs. 100000 and get 10000 worth of stuff free. Obviously there is a catch The 10000 u get for free is brand restriucted but then I must admit that the stuff is pretty decent and if ur out to stretch the buck as far as it goes perhaps its worth it.

Anyways people on the cost note lemme end with:
That money talks/I'll not deny/I heard it once:/it said, "Goodbye."- Richard Armour