Right out of my mind...

Time to CongArrest our nation

2011-08-16T20:30:00.000+05:30

We the people of India are strange. We have planted the thorn on our seats, sit on it and complain that our rear is bleeding. The Congress or the Indian National Congress is one of the oldest parties in India and was formed in 1885. Right from 1947 to 1977, for 30 undisputed years, Congress had ruled featuring Nehru, Shasthri and Indira and yet again after a failed attempt by the Janata Party, Congress was back in power for yet another 10 years! By the way, why was the Congress ousted after 30 rocking years?! You know the answer, serious corruption allegations against it. The Janata assumed power of an economically eroded and weak India and people could not wait to have Congress back. We all know how the next 10 years ended after the operation blue star and assassination of Rajiv (also include the Bofors) and immediately after that we elected a new government, a side dish called the Janata Dal which was nothing but a part of the National Front (the Dal Makhini!). But we were too impatient to have the Congress back. So, the VHP started to dig up near the Babri Masjid in order to construct a Ram temple. The Dal platter goes empty in just a year and some one know as Chandra Sekhar Singh becomes PM for yet another year only to welcome beloved P.V. Narashima Rao for yet another glorious term which was marked by evergreen events Babri Masjid demolition and the Dawood Bombay fry. I am not telling that Congress has been responsible for these, just what did it do?! Oh, but we did something. We spend a royal amount from our tax money and voted just to make Vajpayee get a flavour of the PM’s seat for 13 days. And then people tasted the Dal for 2 more years and Vajpayee (he seriously looks like my grandmother!) for few more years. This was the longest gap when Congress was not in power. No, not good at all! We the people of India love the Congress, in spite of their corruption and in spite of their incapableness. We brought them back to power in 2004 and right from day one after this Manmohan Singh assumed power, we called him a puppet. We are good, we know everything but still we don’t want anyone to rule us other than the Congress. Seriously, what is wrong with us? 65 years after Independence and for 52 years Congress has been eating away. This time the portions became bigger with the 2G and CWG and suddenly everyone is awake.

What is happening now is good. Don’t change the government, but change the law. Pass the Jan Lokpal which gives us a chance to oversee the government’s corrupt officials. All though the years, corruption has been the key issue. Not that one government is going to be better than the other. India is a free buffet. You don’t need to pay to eat, but with the Jan Lokpal at least we hope people eat only half the stomach or may be in time less than half! (Here eat = eat peoples money! I don’t want the government screaming that I am trying to make them forgo food!!) But I doubt after what they have done to Anna Hazare, the government can stay for long.

This is one opportunity that has dawned upon the youth of India to make things happen their way. For long we have been ruled by old farts whose ideologies and mentalities are old and not worth preserving and now when the fuel is full, we need the right spark for ignition. I am feeling helpless sitting here in Germany now and the least I can do is vent out through this blog. Please, make us Indians who are living outside India now feel that we have lost the opportunity to participate in a revolution. Please don’t give us the feeling that we were clever to avoid rushing back home just to take part in nothing. Vande Mataram.

The Polish Wedding !

2011-07-26T13:10:00.000+05:30

Weddings are always exciting. It is a place where you meet new people, make new friends and reconnect with old friends/relatives. But this wedding I attended for me was an entire new world! I am just back from attending my first European wedding and it was a Polish wedding, right out of the traditional book. There was no dragging, no bored moments, no unpleasantaries and no panic. It was smooth, like cutting the perfectly baked cake with the right knife! The wedding took place in Damesławek, a small village in the Paluki region of Poland, 20 Km from Żnin. The bride was Marianna Adamska and groom, Krzysiek Hoffmann.

Agnieszka invited me for this wedding and I was excited about this even 6 months before the wedding date! Probably as excited as the couple when they decided on their wedding date! And even from months before, Agnieszka began her coaching for European dancing, for my legs yield only to Yuvan, Rahman, Harris and Deva! Ok, enough of prelude. Here starts my experience journal…

The flight was from Dortmund. The nearest airport is Bydgoszcz, but there were no flights available for our travel itenary. So we flew to Poznań with an airtime of just 60 minutes. Agnieszka’s father and brother came for us at the airport and we drove to Żnin, 95 Km from Poznań. On the way we stopped at a highway restaurant for “Pierogi” and ice cream and finally reached Żnin at 10:30 PM. It was already dark and I could not already have a glimpse of the city where I would stay. In the house were Agnieszka’s mother, grandmother, uncle and aunt. They welcomed warmly with “Dzień dobry” and showed me to the room where I would be sleeping. After slipping into comfortable shoes, I went upstairs to the living room where the table was set with finger food. Tido also welcomed me by smelling me around and trying to climb on. He was always licking my fingers, guess the Indian spices were still on! After exchanging pleasantries, I was taken on a tour of the house by Agnieszka. Then back to the living room and this time I was greeted by a large bottle of Polish vodka and Agnieszka’s father and uncle were smiling at me and said, “son, we need to train you for tomorrow! Are you up for the challenge?!” It felt a little strange to be invited by a family for alcohol, but when in Rome, there is no shame in being a Roman. Else you are just an observer, not a player! And for them, alcohol is not offensive; it is how you are judged as responsible. So, I was up for it! Discussions, juice and 8 shots of pure vodka was what followed. In between Agnieszka’s cousin joined us after his long drive from Warszawa. He is a vegetarian by choice and it felt nice to have a fellow herbivore nearby! After sometime, Piotr (Agnieszka’s brother) introduced me to his fabulous hobby of reconstructing 14-15^th century battles and showed me his collection of armour, weapons and materials. It was really fascinating and I salute the effort. Then Agnieszka’s parents gave me memorabilia from Żnin (set of old pictures, playing cards and maps) and it was the most thoughtful gift! I gave them a collection of 8 Indian recipes, Cooking Indian with easy ingredients. I had written them in English and Agnieszka translated them in Polish. I referred to it as gift for the mother, punishment for the father and brother! At 2.30am, we decided to call it a day.

I was woken up by excitement and the sunlight piercing through the curtains. I opened them to discover that my room was overlooking the lovely garden! Apples, pears, cherries and walnuts all stood tall and colourful. Eventually the house woke up too and preparations for breakfast started. I and Agnieszka went into the garden to harvest fresh cucumber and onions. There was also cabbage, kohlrabi, beans, peas, carrots, marjoram, some spices and tomatoes. And in one part stood many rose shrubs with wondrous blossoms. The breakfast spread consisted of home made bread, variety of cheese, sausages, scrambled eggs, fresh tomatoes, cucumber with yogurt, tea and coffee. Immediately after breakfast Agnieszka took me outside to the city. We ran into her best friend from childhood and spent some time over cake and coffee. Then began my city tour. It is a very well planned city centre. The houses are with gardens and some with farms, 3-4 Km from the city centre. The centre has all the essentials with a little dash of modernity. There is no hurry and people know each other. I could see people giving me second looks and probably I am the first Indian to have set foot on Żnin! We visited the city museum and saw collections of traditional dresses, paintings and printing machinery. The first magazine for women was started in Żnin in the early 1800’s. There were also collections from local artists in painting and wood work.

We reached the church at 15:50. The bride and groom stood in the entrance and welcomed the guests. The bride was dressed in white and the groom in a suit with a black bow. Exactly at 16:00, the bride and groom walked in to melodious live organ music. The priest blessed the couple, announced the gathering, read some psalms, the couple exchanged the rings, the priest blessed the couple again, gave communion to the couple and the gathering and the couple walked out married at 17:00! Once they walked out of the church, people threw rice and coins on them and the couple had to pick up the coins. Then we started out in our cars to the reception hall which is a few kilometres away from the church. The children from the church’s vicinity blocked the roads with ropes and let each car only after we gave them some coins and or chocolates!

The couple entered the reception hall and the live band began to play. The guests followed in pairs, gave their gifts and wished the couple and took their places at the table. After everybody assembled, they sung the traditional “sto lat”, which means 100 years together and the couple kissed to a joyful cheer. Everyone toasted with Champaign and the couple tossed their glasses behind them and broke it. After this they cleaned it together symbolising the hard work that needs to be done after marriage! The couple took their seats along with the guests. Traditional chicken soup was served first. The table already contained salads and fruits. The salad was traditional polish, consisting of boiled vegetables cubed into small pieces, with pickled cucumber and mixed with little mayonnaise. The main course was an assortment of dished cooked with pork and for me, there was special vegetarian mini pierogies garnished with garlic-butter sauce. There was then coffee and cakes for dessert. Most important of all, there was incessant supply of vodka and the crowd raised a toast every few minutes! The toast was always followed by a chant of Gorzko! Gorzko! (bitter bitter) and the couple have to kiss. The entire song translates as “The vodka is bitter, bitter, bitter, and you need to make it sweet.” Hence the couple kiss to make the vodka sweet! After food, the couple came up to the stage for their first dance. The bride looked very cheerful and happy and I could sense the tension in the groom. Guess it’s the same everywhere, the men are always tensed!

I finished applauding their dance only to find the bride run up to me ask me to dance with her. This was not what I was expecting; nevertheless, I like the centre stage. So I stumbled across and danced what would have been the best entertainment for the guests. But I had a nice interaction with the bride and thanked her for inviting me and told her how much of a learning experience it has been. She was really nice and spoke good English to respond to me. The rest of the night I spent talking with Agnieszka’s cousin, some curious relatives and toasting with vodka to cheers of Gorzko! Gorzko! Exactly at midnight, the couple took centre stage again and sat on a chair. The young unmarried girls walked around them and when the music stopped, the bride tossed behind her veil and the girl who caught it took centre stage. The guy now did the same and tossed his bow behind and fortunately I was not the person who caught it. The guy who caught it took centre stage and the new couple opened the dance again. Now everyone started to dance together and go around in circles around the bride. After half an hour of intensive dancing there was slow music again and out came the wedding cake with fireworks! The couple cut the cake together and all the guests received a portion from it. I already began to feel sleepy and retired to an adjoining room where two little children started to teach me polish! We started back at 2:30 and reached home at 3:00 am in the morning. The longest party I ever attended.

There was absolutely no hangover the next morning and after yet another tasty breakfast spread (this time with krokiety), Agnieszka took me around the region. First was to her grandmother’s house which has a huge garden and a small chicken farm. We strolled around the garden eating cherries and smelling the roses and let the 10 chicken and one rooster out from their pen. People always speak about contentment but seldom realize it. But looking at their houses and life style and their city, I guess this is where it lies. Żnin is sandwiched between two beautiful lakes and every year in summer, boat racing championships take place here. Żnin is the capital of the region called Pałuki and there are totally 130 lakes. Poland owes its origin to this region and the first church in Poland was built in Poznań. The first place we visited was a narrow gauge locomotive museum and the ruins of a castle in Wenecja. There is a legend that the cruel count of Wenecja who terrorized nearby villages during the medieval times can still be seen sometimes in the night! Then we went to Biskupin which is an archaeological excavation site. The civilization existed 5000 years back and the site has preserved an entire part of their community with original excavations and some reconstructions.

We came back home at 16:00 and got ready to attend the “after party”. This was a get together only for close relatives and friends. Before we started out, Agnieszka’s grandmother (who took a special liking to me), asked us to return home by 21:00 and help her put the poultry back and that she would show me her house. It was a very sweet invitation and so we returned home at 21:00. The party was a smooth get together and the couple spent a lot of time with me discussing different things about India. When we went back, grandmother was already ready. She showed me her garden and her roses and figured out that one chicken had strayed into the neighbour’s garden. 75 years old and she still chased down the chicken and caught it! Then she took us inside her house and showed me her favourite room with heavy furniture, piano and books from 1875! All conversations were translated to and fro by Agnieszka and I was amazed by her grandmother’s energy!

After coming back home, we spent the evening looking at childhood pictures and discussions about marriage traditions. The final day, we woke up early and after a quick breakfast, went to Lubiestroń. It is a small palace which now hosts concerts. Unfortunately it was closed but we walked around in the gardens identifying some plants and trees. Agnieszka’s parents drove us to the airport and we encountered a fine ice cream break and a tense traffic jam before we reached just 2 minutes before the gate could close!

Bleed blue, I and Cricket.

2011-04-05T14:01:00.000+05:30

To write something about this World cup victory at the winning moment would just be an expression of draught quench, 28 years for India and 21 years for me! I remember the first time I was introduced to Cricket matches on the television. Way back in 1991 and Sachin was already playing for India. I had a plaster of paris bat, more locally known as the mavu bat. It was gifted to me by preriamma during my various visits to Trichy and I used to beat the ball around, more like playing hockey! Our black and white Solidare telivision used to be the big screen, turning our living room into the pavilion and Dad and Mom would eagerly wait for Krish Srikanth to play, since back then, he was India´s Shewag. Ravi Shastri and Kapil Dev used to be most referred names. And for me, as a young kid, Sachin and Vinod Kambli used to be heroes, since they too were very young looking in the team. Wearing the most comfortable dress for the Indian summer (just the underwear!), I used to stand in front of the television with my bat and copy the strokes that the batsmen used to play.

And like every kid's dream, I wanted to play cricket all the time. In school, in the streets, in the terrace and even in the corridors. Countless days and nights have been spent in the pure joy of playing this game. The underarm Cricket, Cricket at school with balls made of paper and cycle tube wound around it and text books with hard bound used to be the bat. I remember that during this time, my Science text book used to be my favorite for this purpose and perhaps this is why I am now a scientist!! Sports time (P.T) during school never allowed us to play Cricket and every time we had to request and cajole our physical trainer to allow us to play cricket! Well, the school had their own reasons, like to promote interest in other sports and to minimize damage done to the school property! Nevertheless, we used to play our own version of the book cricket during recess and sometimes even when the lectures were going on. Even book cricket would bring so much of satisfaction to us.

The moment I was back from school, in spite of the scorching sun, I would meet up with friends in the apartment and we used to play cricket in the terrace until the ball was lost or until it was bad light or until all our mothers used to drag us home by the ears to do home work. And on really hot weekends, cricket used to be played with a plastic ball in the corridor! After tired game, rest for us meant to play with cricket trump cards or sit down and discuss about the recent matches.

Then came college and cricket was now even more and a serious part of life. By now we had matured more in following the game. I was not too good in playing cricket, but it seldom mattered. After all passion has many forms! It included bunking boring lectures at college and play cricket near the hostel!

Indian cricket has gone through various transformations and yesterday's victory voices hard work, discipline and determination. There were times when when Sachin would be out, the Indian batting order would collapse like dominoes. The master has stood alone on so many victorious occasion and has been the lone fighter in desperate situations. Then came the match fixing controversy that wiped clean, players like Azhar, Mongia and Jadega. For long, Javagal Srinath stood as the lone epitome of bowling discipline and then was a time when Indian team was at its aggressive best, Saurav Ganguly. And there was a time when the Indian team lacked the young propellers to move forward and when the journalists were screaming for Sachin to retire and give place for youngsters. From all these controversies and misdirected anger, rose this team. First the team which won the T20 World cup and the team which won yesterday. A team balanced between the adrenaline and serotonin, to provide the thrust and to provide the calm and the point of balance still originating from the master himself.

The sail to lifting this cup has not been smooth either. A hyper energetic start and yet not a convincing victory against Bangladesh, a fantastic performance against England but an immediate lack of attitude during the chase, wrong decisions against SA, bounce back of bowling against WI, the real test of character against Aussies, exhibition of ultimate control under pressure against Paki and then, finally, the calm, composed and asserting victory to lift the World cup.

I feel proud to have lived when the legends lived/live. M.S.Subbulakshmi, Rajnikanth and Sachin Tendulkar!

Go Hindustan!

How to tame your horse, after the fall !

2010-07-28T16:55:00.000+05:30

What was it that inspired me? The fact that many great men in history is always associated with a horse? Or the marvelous picturization of horses in the various movie sequences or just the thought to control a magnificent animal which weighs nearly 500 Kgs and stands 2 meters above the ground with well toned muscles? Every single thing about the horse makes me feel like a tiny little guy standing on the ground. And there are certain things that make me feel jealous too, like its muscles and most importantly of all, the pampering it gets from the beautiful ladies who are there in my riding school! Three gorgeous girls spraying the horse with water and scrubbing him as he stands lazily enjoying it. I am sure this sight would about make you feel to stand there instead of the horse!

The first thing you learn is how to groom your horse. Clean its hooves, scrub his body and legs. It so well co operates with you and its amazing how it will lift its hooves automatically with you bend down to clean it. Next is to learn how to put on the saddle and secure it. And when you walk with your horse, it needs to know who the master is. The more confident you are, the more the horse is going to like you. It wants to be controlled, in a loving manner and when you sit on the horse, your posture already becomes confident. I guess my mom would very happy to see me now. She used to tell me that I always slump whilst walking and sitting, a casual laziness that used to be a part of my posture. But not anymore. After 5 weekends of riding, my posture has become more straight and my backbone seems to be relaxed only when its straight now!

The horse responds to your body language. A slight relaxation in your body and the next second the horse relaxes too. The slightest kick and a knee push, it starts trotting and the instant my right leg is raised a little bit, it starts to gallop. As much as you work, the horse also works. I cannot judge how tiring it will get for the horse, but I know how tired we get after our course is over. The last class, especially, after my historic fall, was the best one ever.

Men who do not fall down, don't have the opportunity to learn. And men who do not rise after a fall, arn't men at all. It was the fall that mentally prepared me for the best. Before falling down, I thought may be, I am not fit for riding it. I was unable to lift my body during the trot, it was not synchronized, it was not high enough. But last Sunday, things got different. My trotting was nearly perfect. Before I mounted the horse, a rush in me told me that I am the boss and no longer is the horse going to make me feel small. I guess that is exactly what the horse needed too. My adrenaline was its feed. After gaining confidence in the trot, the instructor asked me, so, ready to gallop? Of course I am, is the horse ready?!

I did it. Sitzen, sitzen, sitzen.. was the instruction from my instructor (sit, sit, sit). The idea is to maintain your perfect seat position. When the horse gallops, its energy and force will try to fling you over and your mission is to act against 500 Kg of well toned muscle, galloping at nearly 30 Mph, and maintain seat position. Sounds easy?! Well, to describe it, I felt connected to the horse. The uncomfortableness of irregular bounce vanished once the horse started to gallop. Felt like I had gained the 500 Kg from the horse. It was just tremendous. I had to take a break after 3 galloping rounds. I have never sweated so much in Germany, not in any sport till that day. Finally when I got down after nearly 7 rounds of galloping, my legs were just shaking, but my face was glowing!

Nostalgia in a fall

2010-07-12T00:55:00.002+05:30

When was the last time I fell down before this? Hmmm... 2001 after my quarterly exam results, I was cycling back home when my friend crashed into me on the kotturpuram bridge and I fell down and encountered a green stick buckle fracture in my right arm. I rode the cycle back, single handed before I went to the doctor for the casting. Escaped a good trashing for my poor results!!

After nearly 10 year, it was today, during horse riding. Though there was no physical injury, this fall brought back a lot of memories. Last weekend, my instructor was pleased with my body language during riding and she said, next week, we start with galloping. That already had my adrenaline rushing. I was mentally prepared this week, to encounter the muscular beast and reign my command over it even during galloping. Reading and watching videos cannot prepare you for what I encountered today!

I started with the walk, then the trot to find the proper seating position and now the instructor said, ready to gallop?! Of course was my spontaneous response. Ok, left leg should kick the horse, right leg should be a little behind the usual position and power forward with your knees was the instruction. The next instant the horse started to gallop. 40 Mph and in circles. The centripetal force was too much. Too many instructions and the instructor was repeating, bend your body back, back, back, power with knees, good, go on, faster! Everything was a blur. The blood flow to my brains was tremendous, I could hear my heart beat and I was losing balance. Managed to stay put during the first two trials, though my seat was slipping! The third time, I was determined to make the instructor proud. I am going to bend my body back, I told myself. Patting the horse friendly, I started with the trot and then, kick with the left leg, right leg behind and he was galloping. A desperate attempt to bend my body back and I knew I was falling. Not a single thought in my mind. It was like one of those slow motions they show in Matrix, when Neo jumps up before the kick, but it was that instant. The next instant I was on the ground. Thrown from the horse from a height of 2 meters and when galloping at a speed of 30 plus miles per hour! My legs were shaking when I got up, with a smile on my face! My instructor was also smiling, now you know how it is and now you will not make a mistake! Get back on the horse now, it should not feel you are afraid. Now I rode him alone, without the instructor holding the string. It felt majestic!

After so many years I fell down. A travel back to childhood when you constantly fall down when you learn. You get up, and get going. I felt just the same. But I missed my mother. Back then, when I used to come home with a hurt knee, it was a scolding first and then the dettol cleansing. Unmatchable care. Nostalgia in a fall!

s(f)oulful search!

2010-03-03T17:39:00.001+05:30

Inspirations to blog always come during the most uncanny times! I am just finalizing my thesis outline and I am hit by this incident and forced to blog than finish compiling my chapter list.

It was an usually cold end February morning and I was on my usual walk up to the institute. The road bisects a park which is usually heaven for sun bathers during peak summer, but in winter its seldom populated. My walking pace slows down when my mind perceives happenings that could turn out interesting and so I started to walk slow and I was observing a woman. Ok, I am not going to describe to you how she looks or tell you that she was around 35. I dont want to emphasis on her height of 5.5 feet or her well maintained anatomy because I did not notice all these and I seriously dont know her age or height! What interested me was the anxiety in her face and her restlessness to find something.

Yeah, she was searching. I wouldnt call it search, it was most probably like frantic hunting. I could see the sweat drop down from her forehead on such a chilly morning and I could gather that she had probably paraded the entire park withing a few minutes. She took her fingers to her neck and let an exasperation "schiße" ( schisse in German means shit ). I though may be she had dropped her locket and probably it was precious and dear to her. But then she started to crack her fingers with repeated schiße, schiße,schiße and I thought it was probably her wedding ring. That could be trouble or at least a very expensive loss. For a moment I thought I should offer to help her to search for it, but my instinct told me not to interfere. And probably if it was really something expensive she would have already called for help from other passerbys or probably called out to me.

Her search intensified and so did her voice. Her eyes were scanning so intensively and nothing could distract her. Nothing actually did, even "ME" walking past didnt distract her!! Then suddenly, her face broke into a smile and she put both her hands to her hips and stared down and said "da ist es" (there it is!). She pulled out her gloves, scooped it, rolled it and thew it into the garbage and exactly at the same time, her dog came running from behind the bushes!

And then I saw the sign board : A heavy fine would be imposed!!

BARCELONA, Winter 09 : UNFINISHED but published

2010-02-26T17:45:00.001+05:30

This is my third winter here in Germany and I wanted to travel to somewhere warm. Two freezing winters had already saturated my want for snowfall. Barcelona it is. Before my previous trips to places like Rome, Prague and Paris, I did a lot of research on the internet to learn about the history and map the places I wanted to see in depth and detail. Those were carefree days of my research life, but this time, the flame is on the penultimate thread of the wick and this pressed me to backpack and experience the insitu planning. Nevertheless, trips to historical cities always keep me on the edge with an overdose of adrenaline to last for even weeks after returning from the holiday.

It had snowed heavily in Germany and all the flights were delayed by more than 2 hours. Luck be praised, our flight was planmeßig, which means 'on time' in Germany. One quick look at the display board and my friend Vimal read it as 'plane missing'! It was a clean 2hrs 15mins flight from Düsseldorf Weeze airport to Girona Barcelona and the bus from Girona took an hour to reach the Arc de Triomf bus station. This Arc is not to be confused with the likes of the historical one in Paris. In Barcelona, this was constructed just as a gateway to an exhibition in the late 1880's.
Taking the red line of the metro from there to clot station, we changed to the purple line to Pep Ventura. This is the last stop of the purple line, 20mins from the main city center and just outside the metro stop is the Barcelona Dream hostel. A perfectly calm location near the beaches(calm during winter) and the hostel was amazing. Clean and neat dorms and absolutely nothing to complain of. It was already 6PM when we reached the hostel and after checking in, we found company in the form of an Indian couple to travel with us. Buying the unlimited metro pass to last for 4 days, we proceeded to the city center in search of food and for the first contacty with the city of Barcelona.

Placa Catalunya is the center of the city. This is a massive square where the Gothic city meets the advent of modernism and the center is the origin or the confluence of the main streets Passeig de Gràcia, Rambla de Catalunya and La Rambla. A walk through these streets will make you experience Catalunya. Why do I keep referring to this place as Catalunya and not Spain. Well, in principle, they were(are) different. Catalunya means land of the castles or the land of Goths and its capital was Barcelona.

The La Rambla is the most fascinating street I have ever come across. From the center of the city it leads right down to the Harbor. A walk down the La Rambla is an experience by itself. This street is actually a dried river bed and during the dark European ages, this river was used as a quick dump for transporting waste right into the sea. Now, it is highly crowded and is the exhibition street for street performers and hawkers. They even sell animals like hamsters, rabbits, several species of birds, monkeys, reptiles, tortoises, porcupines, mice and several unknown but fascinating species.

Turning left into any of the small alleys in the La Rambla will take you right to the Gothic part of the city with the Cathedral of Santa Eulaia standing magestically over the Roman constructions. This is the seat of the archbishob of Barcelona. Outside the church, one can still see the only part of aqueduct that reminds the city of its Roman foundations. Just behind the Cathedral is the museum where you can take a lift down to visit the preserved parts of Barcelona as founded by the Romans. The city plans, the baths, wineries, laundry and the watch towers are preserved inside the well designed and informative museum.

The entire trade and history of Barcelona could be understood with a visit to the Maritime museum and the Museum of Catalonian history. Unfortunately, these were closed on 25 and 26th Dec. I guess another trip to Barcelona during the summer is on the cards just for these and the beaches!!

Walking down to the end to La Rambla from the city center, I reached the Columbus monument. It stands at the port where Columbus returned after discovering America. His hands don't point out to America in the West, instead deliberately to the East. The maritime museum is situated just around the corner from here and so is the Port Vell. Cruises are offered here that could take you even until Mallorca. There are also the shopping complex and cineplexes making this place bustle with activity and entertainment.

The most impressive place in Barcelona is the Montjuic. It is a hill offering the most brilliant panoramic view of the city and the harbor. The best way to reach up the peak of this hill is to walk from the Palau Nacional(National art museum) to the Poble Espanyol(Spanish village) and further up to the Olympic stadium and finally reaching the fortifications on the hill top by a cable car that can be taken from the Montjiuc funicular stop. Though I followed the opposite route, I figured out this is the best way to start the evening and reach Montjiuc peak before sunset. The fortifications served as a prison and also to protect the city from the naval attacks. There are several long range cannons at strategic locations. One can spend hours during and after sunset enjoying the glimmering lights of Barcelona up from this place.

Enter Barcelona and the most heard name will be Antoni Gaudi. He is know as the son of Barcelona and its most celebrated architect. His most famous church, the Sagrada Familia is still under construction due to his untimely death(1926) and economic recession(1914). Yet another incomplete work of his is the Parc Guell. This showcases loads of ceramic work and very different styles of pillars. Gaudi's non catholic architecture includes the Casa Batllo and Casa Mila. This is the list of his must see works in Barcelona. The walk to Parc Guell from its nearest metro stop is grueling but then it is totally worth it. There are several shops selling Gaudi stuff and I would recommend people to shop here for curios and memoirs rather than in the La Ramblas for the Ramblas, its expensive and low quality.

This should pretty much give you the historic experience of Barcelona. But a visit to Barcelona is incomplete without a visit to its beaches. Ha! Talk about beaches in winter. Well, for me, I have grown up on the sea side and nothing can attract me more than the Marina and yeah, goes without saying that you are not bound to see any bikini clad beauties in Winter. Still, I walked up to the beach near my hostel to set foot on the Egyptian and Sahara sand strewn over the rocks to make an artificial beach and to smell the Mediterranean sea! In better beaches in the summer, the palm trees are shipped from Arabia to make the landscape more attractive!

An added attraction in my trip was the Flamenco opera. I booked a show in a VIP restaurant, Tablo de caramen, inside the Spanish village. It was a choice I made after reading internet review and it really stood out! worth the money! 90 minutes of amazing Spanish guitar and Flamenco. The energy possessed by the dancers were amazing. Even after a month now, I can still feel the electricity when I think about it!

Barcelona Day 3 : Drizzles and Dazzles

2009-12-25T04:53:00.000+05:30

What a day this has been! This is the only way to put this into words after a day that started at 6AM in the morning and is still to end at 00.00Hrs! After the usual breakfast, we started to out to the preplanned destinations. Today is the day before christmas and usually on this day, everything comes to a halt in Germany. Sparse trains and metros and no trams, absolutely no shopping and yeah, no one on the roads too. This is not the case here(was not the case in Paris last year too). The metros and trains run 24hrs and with twice the frequency in the evenings and many people love to party tonight. Its the 25th that is significant here and I will write about how it was tomorrow!

So, the first destination stop was at the main Cathedral in Barcelona. Well, it is Gothic and surrounded by the Roman influence on Barcelona. Spending a few minutes in this, we then proceeded to the Archaeological museum which houses the Roman foundations of the city. This was very informative historically but not so very culturally. I have to visit a culturally and artistically informative museum on Saturday!!

Out from the ruins, we proceeded to the Casa Mila, the most visited Gaudi house here in Barcelona. I went inside this one and personally I feel that Gaudi is brilliant from the outside, but the interiors of the apartment were a bit too non conventional. Details will be posted along with pictures!!

It was then lunch at an Indian restaurant, Bombay spice. I had a limited north Indian thali and the food was very average. This lunch was readily digested when we decided to visit the Gaudi park. It is a flop idea of a commercial apartment complex that was commisioned to Gaudi. It contains loads of mosaic designs and beautiful pillars. The adventure was in reaching this place. From metro stop we had to trek 30 minutes uphill to reach this place.

The next stop was the Olympic stadium. Its massive and romantic. Totally. I think its the best romantic place Ive seen till now to spend the evening alone with you girlfriend/wife, or at least I would prefer to do it someday!! I will write about the architecture when I am able to post the pictures.

7PM we entered the Spanish village for the Flamenco concert. Well, it was just breathtaking!

This blog has just been a simple travel log because I am totally running out of energy now. I have loads to write about the Flamenco concert!! But let me recharge my batteries(the ones in my camera and mobile too) to start yet another adventurous Christmas.

Barcelona : Day 2

2009-12-24T03:13:00.000+05:30

The day started at 6 AM after a fairly decent sleep of 5 hours. Hot shower and emails to mom followed by breakfast at 8 AM occupied the time I spent inside the hostel. It was filling breakfast of cereals, bread with nutella and orange juice and this was perfect to kick start the day. I have seen beautiful sun sets where the sky is splashed around with a hue of colors, but this was the first time I was treated to a painted morning sky.

The first place of visit was Sagrada Familia. This is a famous architectural structure built by the renowned Antonio Gaudi. I will write more about Gaudi after tomorrows in-detail visit to one of his master pieces. Sagrada Familia was started in 1882 and was left incomplete due to his untimely death. Further constructions were also disrupted due to the Spanish civil war. This church is yet to be completed and is expected to take yet another decade, but still this is one of the most visited places in Barcelona. My want to go inside was cut at point blank by the expensive entrance fees of 12E!

Having navigated with ease with the city map in Brussels and Krakow, I thought we could walk to the next Gaudi architecture with ease. Let Spanish and Catalan be praised, we lost of way in spite of the detailed map I had in hand. The reason, the street names are so similar, even the parallel streets. Carrer Maria and Carrer Mariana and the likes ran parallel causing a retinal malfunction leading to disorientation of directions!! Anyways, these things happen for the best.
So, we figured out the nearest metro station and headed straight to La Rambla (more on this street tomorrow) where we had to meet at the Travels Bar to start our free walking tour of the Gothic part of the city. I am not going to write in details about what I saw during this walk, for I want to do this in detail with the pictures posted along side. But the history is fascinating and seriously, if my history teacher had made our classes as wonderful as our guide did, I would have probably taken up history as my main subject!

Our walk group consisted of nine people, 4 from India, 3 from Mexico and 2 from Australia. I liked the way our guide made us interact with each other to make it a well knit group and not the known people talking their own language during the tour. It did rain, but I only now I think about it, I actually remember that it rained! The 2 hour walk through the Gothic quarter ended with lovely Sangria. This is a typical spanish wine punch with sliced fruit, sweetener and brandy. Await the surprise blog regarding this on Sunday morning (27.12.2009)!!

Lunch was in a small vegetarian eatery, Maoz. It consisted of a custom made falafel, exactly th same I ate in Amsterdam. Not wasting time we took the metro and then the funicular up to the Montjuic castle, the highest point in Barcelona. The sunset was imposing upon the city. Yet again, detailed description will be given along with pictures as soon as I touch base in Germany!

Walking down the hill, we located the place we want to visit tomorrow and also confirmed our reservation to the event I had book for. Dinner consisted of dough nuts and a lovely Mexican Desperado (Beer with tequila) and 1L of Pineapple juice that I purchased from the supermarket.

So, what is the place I located to visit tomorrow and what is the event I attend? Also, what does the Sangria hold as a surprise?! Tune in again to indulge in Barcelona through me!

First evening in Barcelona

2009-12-23T04:33:00.001+05:30

Lets try something different this time, a live blog about each passing day in the new country I visit. Barcelona. This is the ninth country I am visiting in the past 2 years and I have never arrived so impressed!

The flight to Barcelona was from Dusseldorf Weeze, one of the misnamed airports in Germany but allowing the cheapest travel possible! Every flight for the day was delayed owing to terrible snow. But since snow is seldom heard of in Barcelona, ours was the only one that was on time. After 2 hours and 15 minutes of uneventful air journey, I had to take the bus service from Girona airport to the main city. Accommodation was booked in Dreams hostel. This is the first time I had booked a youth hostel for my stay, in every other country it was a cheap hotel. Rains welcomed me into the country and now I have learnt after my Krakow experience that a rainy welcome will lead to the best enjoyment and its proving to be true again! 1 hour of bus journey saw the rain fade away to lead into the most pleasant winter evening so far. 14 degrees and wet with little breeze. The thermals that I had to wear to fight the minus 10 in the morning was already starting to feel uncomfortable and useless.

The hostel is situated in a place called Pep Ventura, 20 minutes from the city center where we [myself and Vimal] got off. But the well structured metro connections made it a cake walk to reach this place. Learning from a Spanish guy how to locate the hostel, I was highly impressed by its neatness and organization. The 12 bed dormitory is clean and well insulated. The reception is spacious allowing space for numerous activities and the guy at the reception too was helpful with the touristic doubts.

After a refreshing face wash, we were surprised in the reception by an Indian couple who had also just checked in and plan to stay for the next 3 nights. So we teamed up to get to the city center and walk around. The city center, Plac Catalunya is enormous with fountains and huge streets which resemble the Champ Elysee in Paris. Brilliantly lit for the christmas, its is truly a shoppers delight. The four of us were just walking and awing at the beautiful lit complexes, buildings and restro bars. Finally the long walk ended in an all you can eat Catalan buffet. Wonderful salad and the Catalan spinach was my pick and I relished it very much.

back in the hostel at around 10 and we planned the itenary for day 2. Until then, its good night from Rp!

The mud between my toes

2009-11-23T16:34:00.000+05:30

10 minutes isn’t a big time to lose when you are traveling from Dusseldorf to Muelheim, especially if it is a Sunday and the previous night was some amazing Christmas market visit filled with hot Met (honey wine) and an extended night with Cacasa cocktails. Cacasa is a Brazilian spirit made from sugarcane and tasted lovely with sweet lime juice and sugar. So I decided to take the S bahn from Dusseldorf to home not minding the extra 10 minutes. New york nagaram was playing in my i-pod and I was leaned against the window in the not so crowded train.

It was a beautiful sight. A few farmers were harvesting huge pumpkins and red cabbages. Though this picture was in frame only for a few seconds, I was able to take in the entire scenario and nostalgia began to bring smiles to my face. To feel the mud in your toes in the garden is such a wonderful feeling. May be the Germans were wearing leather boots to avoid this and also to protect themselves from the chillness of the winter. But not me and not my sister. We always used to be bare footed when we were gardening in our grandmother’s place in Trichy.

It was a compact garden but still huge enough for two crazy siblings who came to spend the summer and winter holidays there. Since there wasn’t much age appropriate company around, me and my sister spent most of the sunny afternoons in the garden. Watering the plants in the afternoon was such a favorite job and the smell of Geosmin (the smell when rain hits the dry muddy lands) used to elevate the atmosphere. There was a huge mango tree which was responsible for the shade over the entire garden. A huge hibiscus bush and a Guava tree nearby. Further near the compound was a Neem tree, a bush with flowers what we used to refer in the local language as Idly Poo and a Pavzhamalli tree (or was it not there?!). There was also lime and once also were snake gourd creepers that hung supported by a structure. Near the clean water sump, there were white pumpkin creepers and our favorite touch-me-not plant. We used to always touch the leaves and watch them shrink. There was Jasmine, Rose, flowers that were beautifully colored but no fragrance and even pillayar poo (well, I am not a botanical gardener, so I just know some of them in the local lingo!). Also not to forget a few tomato shrubs, egg plants and green chili. Aloe vera and spinach stood in space opposite to the main garden. Oh! And the coconut tree in the corner near the dangerously deep well.

As a young kid and also without anything to do in the hot afternoons, the garden was the only fun provider. We had tools for digging and scooping the earth off and a huge hose pipe that could be dragged to any corner of the huge garden. Our regular job was to dig nice water channels that would store water around the tree and also to interconnect them with ducts so that if you water from the start of the duct, it would flow and distribute amongst all the plants. Usually these constructions were done every afternoon and destroyed in the evening and planned in a new design every afternoon!

We also planted seeds and loved to wait to see the tiny little plant peeping out and watch it shed its cotyledons and if we were lucky enough, also see the first flower. There is a thrill involved in this and if I compare this feeling to my present day scenario, I can say that it is similar to protein crystallization. Carefully planning your protein drops and checking every other day and the anticipation for crystals. Well, I got more lucky with plants!

Once, me and my sister were really involved in gardening. I used to remember all my science class lesson and try to utilize them. Earthworms are farmers best friend was the lesson I remembered on that particular day and want to implement it. So I asked my scout (my sister) to search for earthworms so that we can put them near the plant. We found several ones by digging the earth and transported those wriggly squishy little friends in the stem of a plant or on a leaf and put them near the plants. Suddenly my sister let out a cry of triumph and called for my backup. She had spotted a real long worm and it was escaping her by digging itself deeper into the earth and she was pulling it out with her fingers! By the time I rushed to share the moment, she has pulled out half the worm and I saw it snap into two. One part was wriggling in her fingers and the other part was digging into the earth. She was determined not to let the other part escape. So with one half clutched in her hands, she scooped out the other one! Since this was a long worm and still alive in two parts she wanted to put them for the egg plants. She is crazy about egg plants!

When we stepped out of the garden to wash ourselves, we were always covered in slushy mud. It was all over our hands and even faces. It will dry over your skin and change its color. Our toes would be in layers of such mud and also inside our finger nails. It has a real special smell and taste. Of course, how many times it has gone into our mouths! To get cleaned up would take an hours scrubbing and the water that washed our bodies would run totally mucky!

I don’t know if the trees and the plants still stand there, for the house along with the garden has been sold to someone. But they still do in our memories and I have the best harvest of mangoes, lime, egg plants, tomatoes and fabulous blooms.

Missing Diwali, Lights, Sounds and Aroma

2009-10-14T14:20:00.002+05:30

Been ages and I don’t know what has been stopping me from blogging. I wouldn’t blame it on work for I had always found time to write and not the want of events either. There had been some over which I could keep writing until I feel bored of expressing them in different ways! But today, the thought of day after tomorrow has pushed me to write this in a last minute effort to feel closer to the best ever times I had had back home in India, celebrating Diwali.

The only thing I like about religion are the festivals it holds. A reason to celebrate, a reason to unwind and feel childhood every passing year. It feels shocking to me when some of my friends tell me that they don’t celebrate Diwali because they have grown up. Is this how you grow up? To lose the celebration, the anticipation and the fun? And a few of them turn environment conscious and child labour conscious and stop celebrating. This is a baffling paradox. India is such a huge country with a huge socio-economic barrier. Let there be no blame game, instead there could have been support. You stop the purchase of fire crackers since the NGO’s shout that the majority of them have child labourers and if you don’t buy them, who is going to feed them anyways? So, why cant there be support and regulation and then everyone is happy! Instead there are these emotional stories, pictures and advertisement which makes you feel like a pathetic human being every time you light up a sparkler. Truth be told, I’ve never felt that way.

Escape from this feeling and then here comes the environment friendly part. It is ok for the government busses to emit pathetic gasses all around the year. It is ok to sell doctored petrol and diesel and even give emission clearance for vehicles even without checking it. It is perfectly ok for the roads and traffic to be chaotic which increases the emission and it also perfectly fine for huge trucks and lorries to roam inside the city limits during day time and most important of all, parks can be converted into IT parks, trees can be cut to make broader roads, lights and blarring speakers can be run 24 hours for political purposes. And now you have rules for a one day celebration to protect the environment. No firecrackers before 6AM and after 11PM and no high decibel crackers. Wow, the government really cares!

Diwali is one festival that turns every grown up into a kid. For people who realise this, welcome to the club. Else, thanks for reading until this! I used to love the celebrations in my apartment. Loads of kids in the age group, juniors to whom we were heroes and seniors who were heroes to us. It was perfect. 12 Midnight used to witness intense competition on who lit the first firecracker of the season and after the first one burst, we used to go back home to prepare in the more traditional way. Oil bath and prayers and then off at 4AM in the morning with the back of crackers, candles, incense sticks and matches. I love the smell of crackers and the color of my hands after an intense session of bangs and poofs. Sulphur and Phosphorus and burnt paper. Combine this smell with the ones emanating from several kitchens in the apartment cooking elaborate festival meals and you can get an idea how heaven smells like.

The first session of fire crackers used to last until 8AM and after that is a pause to stop the bursting hunger inside the stomach. I don’t know why, but the sweets taste more divine when eaten with the chemical smeared fingers :P Though for weakly immune people the side effects could be a disastrous stomach! The early morning Diwali special programs on the television were a treat and a time killer until the next bursting session would start. The day would be filled with visits to my grandparents house and if lucky, my cousin brother’s visit to grandmothers would coincide and creative naughtiness would be at the peak. New firecrackers would be manufactured by us by reverse engineering the existing ones and certain experiments have taken place that would rise several eyebrows!

I felt the same intensity every year, the same anxious wait for this festival and the same restlessness. This is my third year away from this festival and I miss it, dearly.

Stage fear and beyond

2009-07-17T15:25:00.001+05:30

I still remember my first stage appearance from my kinder garden days. May be because it has been repeatedly reminded by my parents and from the recording I have of the lines I had to recite on stage. It’s funny, because at that age, you know nothing about stage fear. You are not bothered about the huge crowd in front of you. All what you think about is how you look in your costume! I was in total love with the police costume that I had to wear. I even wore that dress on a school day and stood out from the class for doing such a thing. The very first lines I spoke on stage “police aaga naan irunthal, polla thirudanai pidithiduvaen, kaali sirai il adaithiduvaen, kambi yenna vaithiduvaen” (If I were a police, I would catch the notorious thief, hold him in an empty cell and make him count the bars).

After this performance, I didn’t get the chance to deliver dialogues on a stage until 1998. For some strange reason, I was chosen to play the role of Nehru in a play. I had to recite a few lines, emote patriotically and wear a costume. Stage fear showed its colors. I had to practice this several hundred times and still, seeing the entire school in front of me, I went numb and sweaty. The rose pinned on my shirt fell down and caused much laughter which made me even more nervous. How I spoke those lines, I don’t remember now, but it was over!

Its funny how life transits and how behavioral characteristics change and influence. Two years later, I still could not overcome stage fear during a simple intra school cultural event and exactly one year later, I was an orator. A change in school did the magic and the determination that this new crowd should never see me sweat or stammer during a talk. Credits go to my parents who framed my talks that time.

Now I crave for the stage. It’s like marijuana to me. Every talk I hear, I feel I could have done it better and I show that in the opportunity that I grab. I feel let down if some one does not utilize an opportunity to dazzle. The latest incident being a researcher messing up precious 10 minutes in front of 25 Noble laureates and hundreds of international researchers and several funding agency directors. What a stage it was and what an opportunity to make yourself noticeable and envied. Where else would have been the perfect place to glorify the scientific greatness on India and showcase India’s greatest research works and contribution to science. It was the perfect platform to bring to notice the great Indian scientific works that would have received the Noble prize if not for a racially biased committee. And he stood there, blabbering bits and pieces of his research work in English that was incomprehensible. I am amazed that the Indian government that nominated this group took so lightly the importance of these ten minutes. I couldn’t recover from this for a week and until I lit up the stage with my performance in the DFG at Bonn.

I don’t know what takes over me these days when I board the stage. I can reach out to the entire room without the microphone and tell confidently that no one gets bored or sleepy when I talk. I feel like a whirlwind thrashing with utmost ferocity to show it cant be matched against and until its there, it has to be respected. The awed look on the audience face tempts me even more to talk. I felt highly satisfied after my talk on 10 July, especially when officials from DFG praised me and when they told me that they too got excited about doing research once again, to actually step into the lab and start making things happen.

I have inspirations too. Very first is Rangarajan of Alma matter. Hearing his speech changed my outlook towards public speaking. Next comes Cho. I like his fierce dictation and slap stick humor that he vents out on politicians regardless of their power. Then my dear father. I like his style when he stands in front of the mike, his spontaneity and the way he observes and builds upon his speech as and when he talks. Finally, APJ Kalam’s motivatory content.

Travel to the land of Tintin : Brussels, Belgium

2009-06-08T20:00:00.000+05:30

It’s been two weeks since my return from Brussels and somehow I have been kept busy and not able to write about it. Finally, today I start when my proteins are spinning upstairs leaving me a bit relaxed in the office. Every time, my experiences are written like a guide book, but this time, I would like to write it like a journal entry or perhaps like experience sharing. Either way, I can tell you, it might be a bit long!

Brussels Zuid or Brussels Midi, the main station is just 100 minutes away from Aachen, Germany. The fast trains are a pleasure to travel inspite the fact that Deutche bahn (German rail) is always very expensive. But luck brought a 38 Euro two way ticket to me!

First things first! Everyone speaks English! Relief, especially after the sign language and grunts in Paris! Brussels is nearly the centre of Europe and had 3 official languages, Dutch, French and English. Though you can hear people dabbling away in French, they also speak good English. I didn’t hear them speak Dutch but there were advertisements and announcements. Who cares as long as they all speak English!! Makes your travel much easier and allows you to get lost happily.

Brussels is very well laid out. Makes touristic travel very cheap since all the important visits are situated around the Grote Mart or the grand place. It lives up to its name, grand place, for it is really grand. Grandeur comes to this place from its oldness. The minute you stand in the centre of the Grote mart, flanked by the Flemish bell towers and the magnificent buildings, you feel transported back to the medieval times. The place smells of roasted nuts, caramel, ice creams, chocolate, chocolate and chocolate! There are pubs and restaurants and it makes the place very enjoyable.

Situated around the grand place are the churches, Royal palace, Belgium centre for fine arts, the comic strip museum and the Mannekin Pis. A couple of minutes in the metro will take you to the Atomium and the mini Europe. I did not visit the mini Europe because I did not want the miniatures to spoil my fantasy of standing before the originals. Probably I will visit mini Europe after I have visited all of Europe!

Brussels is the birth place of Tintin amongst other cartoon characters. As a kid, I grew up on him and liked the characters very much. To actually be in Brussels, was very exciting for me, just to satisfy the Tintin hunger! Cartoons painted over several walls and buildings all around the city boast of its glorious cartoon characters and their creators.

Belgium is a very beautiful country and the travel within Belgium is very cheap, even at 300Kmph! I bought tickets to Antwerp, Ghent and Brugge in the fast trains, both ways for just 21 Euros! Enchantingly tourist friendly!

The train from Brussels to Antwerp takes 40 minutes, at 300Kmph and as usual, the very first thing that attracted me in Antwerp, more than its diamonds is the really antique look of the railway station. Though modernisation is evident interiors, the structure is perfectly antique and massive.

Walking out of the station brings you right to the diamond centre of the world. Inspite the fact that business has changed hands from the Jews to the Gujjus (no offence meant!), the best diamonds are still out of reach for me at the moment! The Meir is the shopping street of Antwerp and seriously, wow! Women will freak out shopping here. The French impression is well seen when it comes to fashion and the Dutch impression is seen on the architecture. Exotic blend I would say. The city centre of Antwerp has less to offer but the Rubin house is really worth the visit when it comes to appreciating painting. The huge metal guy looking down on you near the harbour really gets into you when you look around the brilliantly shaped city and the once biggest harbour of the world. Incidentally, Congress party will have an easy victory in Antwerp since the symbol for Antwerp is the Hand (Antwerp – from the hand).

Ghent is another beautiful city, 30 minutes from Brussels. It was a merchant controlled town laid out in great perfection. Absolutely easy to navigate by foot with the tourist map, Ghent is a real good destination for walking tour buffs like me. Oh yeah, not to forget the awesome soup I had there. I was automatically attracted to the soup salon serving only vegetarian soups with various toppings. Brilliant!

Brugge is further 30 minutes from Ghent and is considered to be the best romantic spot in the world. Well, I would not argue much for I also felt the same way when I saw the city. It’s a city which has everything. Canals, churches, a perfect city centre, boats, walks and cycle routes. It is really a huge city and would take an entire day to enjoy its history by walk and by water. Unfortunately I could not spend the evening there, but then yeah, I wasn’t with the perfect companion either!

A surprise inclusion in the trip was Ostendee. It’s a beach and was hyped to be great. Well, being brought up on the seaside, it was not thrilling for me, just a blank, bland beach. I would any day rate our good old Marina as more happening and exciting. Not even babes in bikini decorated the vast emptiness. May be it was not the season yet, but this place holds nothing special.

Waterloo would seem an exciting bet as soon as you hear the name and imagine Napoleon at war and conquered. But trust me, its nothing more than a hill with a lion on top and green fields beneath. Well, the light and sound shows and museums might be of interest, but missing this place owing to a tight budget or time is no blasphemy.

Coming to the issue, food and people. Well, non vegetarians will love the food since Belgium boasts of one of the finest sea food. Me being a vegetarian always had French fries, pizzas, falafels and the likes to fill my stomach. No complains since it was cheap and always allowed place for Australian ice creams. This is the best selling brand here and the scoops are always extra big! People are tourist friendly and like every city, the night life always attracts. Brussels is safe and locals willingly help you with directions. This city also boasts highly about its gay population and yet again it is not a threat to any male tourist!

Shopping can get very addictive in Brussels. Being the French like in fashion, Brussels offers every new fashion you can imagine of. And chocolates! I think there are more chocolate bars in Brussels than the bricks that would have gone into constructing the city!
Every street has chocolatiers making home made chocolates and selling them and you get to choose from unheard but tempting varieties!

On the whole, Brussels is an ideal place to camp and move around Belgium and even entire of Europe. Its cheap and fast railways and international airport offers the best and quick connectivity.

The spirit of my lab coat(s)

2009-05-20T14:21:00.002+05:30

My office room has been silent for a while now. No rhythmic beats emerging from the most hit gadget in the world. Imagine the number of people hitting it everyday all around the world, wow! Huge! Yeah, it’s the key board! Anyway, this exclamation has nothing to do with the blog that follows. Just my respects to the keyboard!

Before I started on a holiday to India, I hung it in my lab.

July 2007 was when I got it, a fresh, new, stark white, thick cotton full sleeved lab coat. Class XI was the first ever when we were asked to wear lab coats. It was very exciting and believe me, even though I outgrew sizes, I wore the first lab coat I bought then, till the end of my bachelors education. In school, we used to feel proud wearing the coats. The look in the eyes of the junior students when they see us going for the lab sessions gave us a sense of superiority. Well, I had the same look of longing when I used to see my seniors! But then I learnt that most of the students picturise themselves as medical doctors when wearing the coats and still continued to hate Chemistry and lab sessions and the only time they were proud about their lab coats was when they flaunted it before juniors and maintained it stain free!

A stain free lab coat?! This is a blasphemous by my standards. Come on, a lab coat should have stains. Well, that does not mean that you are careless, its just how involved you are and if you lab coat has acid burns, then it’s a wow and thumbs up from me! And wearing a lab coat allows you to have some fun beyond what would be considered safe. I remember us signing our names with potassium permanganate solutions and spraying the coloured solutions on each others lab coats and not to mention the unlimited fundas and art work that used to roam around on each lab coat! The usual was to write ‘Kick me hard ‘on the back of some ones lab coat. Drawing danger sings, designing cloth tattoos, signing names and designed splatter of non harmful chemicals are some.

Each lab coat has been special for me and every stain always brought back memories of experiments and happenings. Here, my coat bore my name, chlorophyll stains, Trifluoroacetic acid burns, protoporphyrin streaks and the pockets contained personalised spatulas, NMR labels, and custom designed crystallisation grease dispensers and markers.

When I came back to the lab from holidays, my lab coat was missing.

I never faced a situation like this. It was suddenly like realising that you had lost your arm or leg. I searched places even where it was least probable to find it and finally complained to my supervisor and put a word to all my co-workers. They were surprised that a lab coat went missing! Guess I have some secret admirer here!!

I ordered new spatulas, new markers, made my custom equipments again and finally loaded them in a new lab coat. To wear this now is like having your memory whitewashed. But now, my new coat bears on its back, in huge fonts, “Ask me if you want a souvenir! Don’t take away this lab coat too!!”

The Volatile Dream

2009-05-11T17:39:00.001+05:30

This post has been put on hold again and will be released to public viewing after discussions.

Fright and Flight

2009-04-30T14:51:00.001+05:30

Nearly 6 weeks before, that was 2 weeks before my flight to India, I had to suddenly change my airlines from Emirates to Air France. I had travelled before in Lufthansa and Emirates and know pretty well about their air crafts and the baggage allowance. Well, this is the most important fear factor for everyone. Who wants to pack up excess, then throw away, simple but heart rendering stuff away in the last moment at the check in counter?! I definitely don’t want too!

So, Air France was new to me and they allowed just 20Kg of baggage. I don’t understand why people want to start a panic by discouraging them about the flight. I was discussing my India trip over the phone with my friend and as soon as he heard the airlines name, he was like “I’ve travelled once with that, its totally galeej (dirty) flight. It’s like taking a town bus in India. Rickety seats, dirty floors, not so friendly air hostesses and very bad food. Why did you have to book with this airline?” He literally took my enthusiasm about the flight, though the destination home was an annulling factor to his comments. So, I made up my mind, don’t care about the flight, just get on, think India and you are home!

The days rolled by and I had packed my baggage and weighed it, 21.7Kg. Not a big deal at all and for a frequent flier with various airlines, I knew it would pass through. Just when I was calling to say goodbye to friends, the second panic switch was pressed. “Do you know, these days everything is so strict. You flew a year back with a few kilograms excess. It’s near to impossible these days. I paid 90 Euros for an excess of 3Kg in Lufthansa and I’ve heard Air France is more expensive and totally strict. So, be prepared to pay for your excess” Well, it wasn’t really the panic button for me, but for my friend. I was carrying her expensive sarees to be delivered to her house and that was the major part of the baggage. I told her what I heard about Air France and she said she will come to the airport in morning (it was a very early flight!) and in case they demand money, she will take her sarees back. Well, it was disappointing for everyone, until check in…

The baggage weighed 22.7Kg on the counter! I bit my lips and crossed my fingers as the lady scanned my passport and visa. I could hear my friend chanting prayers that she must let the luggage through and then tadaa… It was through! No questions, no raised eyebrows, it was just through!

After crossing the first hurdle, the second one was still nudging my peace. Will the flight actually be as my friend described?! Well, I soon found. It wasn’t! I would rate it as the best one I actually flew with. Class interiors, awesome leg space, comfortable push back, tasty and good food and entertaining selection of movies! What else can you ask for?!

I don’t understand why people have to be so discouraging and negative about every airlines! Especially when someone is about to travel, isn’t it always good to put the positive points and if there arnt any positive points, why blow up the bad ones? Anyways, we cannot change the flight in the last minute just because someone tells it’s the worst! Grow up people, seriously!

The French Connexion

2009-02-11T21:14:00.000+05:30

After a day of brilliant seminar and some tough structure elucidation through software, I thought, why not blog today and complete the hatrick! In principle, the sequence would be good if I wrote about nostalgia again, but then I guess its time for a change!

When I was taking a holiday in Paris, even though I was stunned by the beauty of the city, I was nauseated with the attitude and behaviour of the public. After living and travelling in Germany for nearly two years and having travelled quite a bit to other European countries, by far, Paris has been the place of worst public attitude.

The first repulsive moment was when people understood English but refused to answer back in English! Fine, don’t tell me now that I am a tourist and it is an adventure to travel like this. Accepted. It is really adventurous to explore places, but when the entire world is striving to be cooperative, why can’t the younger generation speak English?! French may be like music even when spoken, but it can be really irritating when you have to catch a train on a day of train strike! We were really luck to find a young French girl (no eye brows going up please!) who could guide us using her broken English to the correct platform and even she was confused. Finally it was my ingenuity that lead us to take the correct train in spite of announcements happening in French!

Let me not press further with the language. I guess in a non English speaking country, it is always like this and no complaints. The above was just an experience ;-)

The metro trains were always crowded and people were standing jam packed even near the doors. Funny that the doors do no open automatically and even the people standing near the door will not open the doors unless it is their stop! Come on French people, can’t you open doors atleast?! They stand right in front of the door, sometimes with big bags on their backs, not even giving way to fellow Frenchmen, forget tourists! The very first time, we didn’t know the doors weren’t automatic and I was waiting for the doors to open. When they didn’t I fiddled with the knobs and still didn’t open. If such a situation was here in Germany, the person behind you will gladly help you with a smile. Here people were least bothered. I finally managed to kick the door open and then learnt that you had to turn the knobs! Crazy!!

Talk about French wine, French perfumes and French kiss! I guess some frustrated tourist got bheja fried in France and hence the name French fries!!

Solar Cooker, more memories of 2000

2009-02-10T20:30:00.001+05:30

The previous blog was induced by boredom but triggered up real good memories. But this one is an inspired recollection derived by the comments of Vivek on the previous post.

Standard X is an important phase of life and it’s supposed to mould you into what you wan to pursue in future. Although in schools a students future depends only on his mark sheet and not on his potential, I never gave a second look at scored. True, it did result in a lot of tension during admission to the next level, but it was unable to stop us from mischief and what I am right now!

Physics classes were the funniest ones for we had the weirdest teachers. IX standard saw us through with one whom we named ‘kuthiral vaal gundama’ (pony tailed fatty: P). I seriously don’t remember what her name actually is! But this named suited her for her curly haired pony tail and squeaky voice. In standard X landed in our class, the most brilliant physics teacher we ever can rejoice of, of torturing to the maximal extent. Indira alias Aaya. Aaya in Tamil means servant maid and she was named so because of her looks, language and behaviour! Well to simplify things in her language, she has no capaquity whatsoever, even to handle electriquity and her classes were pure atroquity.

She commanded our class to submit a project in Physics for which we would be granted 5 precious marks and this would be added to the final score of the practical in turn to get added with our board exam marks. The final threat to make us all work. BOARD EXAMS! The class was divided into groups and mine had my dear companion Vivek. I can remember only Vivek in my group for it was only the two of us who decided to work weekends and actually submit the project. I think our group also had few other students who failed to understand the importance and need of our project, to construct a working model of the solar cooker!

Initial days went off in designing the cooker in paper. Well, there wasn’t much to design, but me and Vivek drew on pages and pages and finally came to the conclusion that it had to be rectangle! Unfortunately there was no Wikipedia to guide us instantaneously! Then came the list of raw materials required to build it. In principle, it was a small list. Wood to make a rectangle box, nails, hammer, black paint, mirrors to reflect the light inside and a pane of glass to cover the top.

The above bill was not passed since making our own box seemed a bit out of way for the project and hence we decided to buy one. Now the problem was how to get some box like that. Jumping from one hardware store to another finally taught us that we need a box which translates into English as 5 ½ woods and 3 inches (anjara katta, moonu inch). I still have no clue what the dimensions mean, but we did get one that exactly fitted our need. The next weekend was a black one owing to painting of the box with black enamel. For some reason it was a good feeling to smear our hands with the paint and then remove it using turpentine!

The reflecting mirror was bought from Vel glass works, just near to Sanskrit college and had been fitted with supporting styrofoam as a reflector. Now the task of getting a glass cover remained. We scanned the glass works but then they all asked for exorbitant rates for a small piece of glass cover. Finally we hit upon one kind glass workshop in St. Marys street and the owner allowed taking the glass broken covers for free! Rummaging the throw aways, we fished out a huge piece of broken glass sheet, got it cut neatly and placed it to complete our cooker!

It was really funny when we took it to class. That was the last day for submission of the project and our ingenious Aaya kept our cooker in the middle of the playground with a bowl of water inside it for testing purposes. A thermometer was kept on the water and we were told that only if the temperature rose above 80 degrees we would be given marks. Seriously, we couldn’t take that risk though the sun was at its hottest. So, after few minutes of waiting, we replaced the water in the bowl with hot water taken from the chemistry lab and once the thermometer showed 80 degree Celsius, we ran to fetch our teacher who reluctantly gave us the full marks!

And then the cooker remained in the attic of our class room and the students made good use of the mirror to comb and style. After a few months, the same was used by my sister for her project submission and I guess it still remains in some classroom shifting hands to fetch easy marks!

Electrical Gadgets, some memories of 2000

2009-02-09T20:08:00.002+05:30

A sudden urge to write just filled me. Is it because the volume of diethyl ether I have kept under argon will probably take 4-5 hours for evaporation or am I getting bored of trying to fix the conformation of my compound to perform density function theory calculations? I guess it’s because of the Harris Jeyraj music in the background and the fact that I just read a lot of very good blogs (some of my old ones too!).

For the past few minutes I have been staring at my screen deciding on what to write. I know that now, whatever I decide on, is not going to hinder my thought flow and words are going to be typed until my co-worker sitting opposite to me goes mad due to the non stop sound of the keyboard.

Somehow my thoughts stray back to my 10th standard EG classes! Every Friday was a treat for us because the two classes before lunch was EG and typewriting and we had so much of free time and fun. Our EG teacher was a very old yet stylish mallu guy named Balakrishna Nair. I have a very clear picture of how we were seated too! Two parallel rows and boys on one side and girls on the other and the teacher could move in between. I used to sit at the very first and opposite to me was her as usual and always. Besides me was Karthik followed by Vivek. The line further down had no significance since the source of maximum distraction and fun has already been listed.

Our master seldom took classes. Usually the blackboard had some stuff already written with which we had to copy to our record notebooks and then idle away the rest of the time silently. But me, Karthik and Vivek had other plans. We started directing movies with our EG master as the hero! We even used to tell it to him and every time he moves or tells some stuff in the class, we used to pre phrase it by ‘ Movie name – Scene 1 – Take 1 ‘. The hero entry for the movie was like this… Our EG sir comes in, takes a live wire to his head and the shock makes the hair on his head stand straight. Then he takes some styling gels and puts his hair back and then pick up his 1 meter long wooden scale and walks to hit the students, Darpan, Siva Saravanan and Arvind who have been playing sharpener game! Our EG sir for some reason disliked when students played that game in his class: P

I always wondered how he heard the chaos of the sharpener game in the last benches for in the first row; we used to make such a racquet. I always used to sharpen a small knife on a touchstone with Karthik trying to spin the touchstone faster and faster to produce more noise and sparks! Somehow he never scolded us for doing that, though the girls opposite to us complained.

May be he was frustrated with scores of students taking his subject as a fun session or may be he didn’t really mind all this as it reminded him of his younger days. Whatever is was, these are just beautiful memories!

Skiing - The ultimate experience

2009-02-05T15:29:00.004+05:30

“Origin has reached the maximum number of users, please wait until someone disconnects.” This was the message displayed to me when I excitedly opened it to analyse the spectral data I had been accumulating for the past few days. Hyperfine couplings between electrons and protons had been recorded and it is time for me to interpret. But then, why am I writing all this?! Gosh, too much of project thoughts…

January 4th 2009 recorded the highest snowfall in Germany in the past 25 years. The entire city engulfed in whiteness and buried under several inches of snow made it a mesmerizing sight. The first two days after the snowfall were good, but thereafter, the snow became dirty, slushy and sluggish and made walking in the streets a total pain. Still, the excitement didn’t dampen much. So, wanting to make use of these conditions, I decided to Ski!

Saturday 10th of Jan 09 was chosen for this adventure. My first ski trip. Accompanied by enthusiastic friends, I started to Winterberg. It is nearly 3hrs travel by train from my home town, Muelheim and we reached there by 12.15. The travel had made us hungry and we headed straight to the pizzeria in spite of the welcoming white slopes of snow. After lunch, we rented our ski equipment, a pair of heavy boots, ski and poles and walked up the hill with great difficult owing to the heaviness of the equipment.

The ski slope was wondrous and the people skiing down made the adrenaline rush in me. Small children were skiing like accomplished professionals and this gave me some confidence that even after initial trials, I would be able to ski decently well. I imagined myself as James Bond and got ready for my first attempt. There was a conveyer rope that you had to hold to ski up the slope and since so many people were doing it with ease, I thought it would be a cake walk. Confidently I held the rope and skied up for a few seconds. My legs twisted on their own accord and I lost balance and then bham, I was on the snow with my body twisted in all possible funny angles. Moreover, I had to roll to the sides to avoid other skiers! After a few seconds, I thought I heard the echo of my fall, but looking back I saw my friend twisted in a similar funnier fashion!

The lady who was overseeing the conveyer walked up to us and decently told us not to try this again as it was for professionals and commanded us to walk up the slope to ski down. Unfastening the skis, we started walking up. The thrill rose when I was ready to ski down. Just one small lean, I was racing down, balancing well. The chill air brushing against my face made it more thrilling. The view through my sport goggles was blurring as I picked up tremendous speed, probably 50km/hr! The slope was nearing end and I had to stop. Only now I realised I didn’t know how to! It was a planned fall and I was flat on the snow. It didn’t hurt but it was taunting me to try again and again! Finally after 25 times of falling down and getting up, we decided to call it a day. It was really the best experience.

Proudly displaying the pictures and narrating my experiences had encouraged more people to experience it and hence we started on a second ski trip the following weekend. Now it was group of 16! 15 Indians and one adventurous Russian. This time, we hired a ski instructor and took lessons on how to stop, turn left-right and walk up inclines even with the ski attached. It was just great and now I am waiting to go for skiing again to test myself again!

From my balconey

2008-12-02T02:34:00.005+05:30

After a brilliant day at the labs and after good food and web development with Neeti, I suddenly felt like having some tea. Aromatic masala tea, steaming hot. I stood in the balconey watching the christmas lights of the city. It was freezing cold, but the warmth of the tea in my hands and down my throat was more effective than sweaters and thermals. I just felt like having tea, though my cozy bed was welcoming me to prepare me for a very early tomorrow morning.

It was around 9.45PM and freezing. I looked down the streets as well as into my memories and recollected loads of beautiful moments. The present also made me happy. There was this little boy, unaffected by the searing coldness playing solo in the streets. He was having a stick in his hand and was conducting an imaginary opera with himself being the lead baritone. It was filled with lisp and energy. He actions made me energetic! Well, you can imagine how energetic if I am writing this from home at this time!

Scanning through my address book in my mobile, I decided to call my friend Tomas who is in Prague. I thought he wouldnt recogonise me, especially through the masked phone number that is displayed when I call through my international calling account, but surprise, he recogonised even my Hello! Its really a good feeling when you are recogonised like this by friends whom you had made during a conference.

Oh yawn ! The effect of tea is wearing out... or is it time for another tea and another blog?!!

Back to childhood II: Snow wars

2008-11-24T20:31:00.002+05:30

Earlier were days splashing in water when it was the first rain of the season and then as years passed by I gave it up but making paper boats for streams of rain water didn’t change. It’s the second winter here in Germany and I felt getting back to younger childhood days in the first snowfall of this winter and the first ever major snowfall in my life. Though I was here last winter, the skies failed to appease my yearning for the whiteness but this year, the wait and thirst was more than satisfied. Winter came early and so did the snowfall. It is the most beautiful experience.

After dancing and enjoying the Diwali night in Aachen, we started out to hit the bed at around 1.30AM only to discover that it had snowed and was snowing like crazy. The entire road was white. The shrubs, trees and the parked cars were coated with inches of soft fluffy snow! I held my palm out to catch a few and felt the chillness as the snow melted in my hands. I also caught a few on my tongue! The temperature was minus 3 with soft wind guiding the snow fall. We walked through the white pavements occasionally making snowballs from the snow collected over the cars and aiming the person walking in front.

After reaching the destination, we decided not to call it a day, but to begin it in the snow! Everyone was so excited and we left our mobiles and purses safely in the room. Gearing with coats, caps and gloves, we walked the snow covered lawns and awed at the white trees. The colour of the street lights made the scene more magical. After reaching the place with the maximum collected snow, it was time for snowball fights. Seriously, I never had so much fun. Though fingers sting when collecting the snow, it is definitely worth the pain to dodge and get hit with! We even made snow cigarettes by pressing and rolling the snow and smoked with our breath through our mouth!

Finally our first snow man was ready. Well, from the size, he may be a snow child, but that was what we could manage without proper equipment and gloves. I felt like Calvin making his famous snow monsters! As our snow man braved the cold sitting on top of a BMW, we retired to the cozyness of heated rooms and blankets. I really felt like a kid, let loose to enjoy however he wanted to.

Di-shirt-ster : Ode to a white linen

2008-11-18T21:04:00.000+05:30

I have always treated them with loads of affection and some of them with high respect. They were instrumental in presenting me at various occasions and have been the reason for loads of head turns and a reason for starting conversations. They definitely make up 50% of me where ever I go and I believe that they are the most essential to build self confidence.

I am speaking about my shirts. I definitely am crazy about shirts and brands and like to flaunt the best ones in parties and functions. I care for them like they are a part of my body. When I was home, there was a time when I never even used the detergent on them. It was substituted by shampoo for I have a feeling that the detergents will be hard on them and destroy the fabric. Such is the care I have taken and still, there was this black Saturday for me and them.

Not many shirts had lined up for the wash but I thought there was enough inner wear and socks and pants and it was time to take them to the wash machine. It is a brand new Siemens with loads of programmable options and I set it up in the best way to suit the shirts. Special non caustic detergent was added and the temperature of water was set to 40 degrees. The rotations per minute were optimum and the wash time was ninety minutes. After switching it on, I went on to make a brilliant Saturday morning breakfast. Hot steaming pongal with coconut chutney. The breakfast was devoured over a conversation with my mother and I finished reading the morning papers online. It was then time to take the clothes out for drying.

It was a total disaster. The brand new ‘jockey’ that was sent to me for diwali was a spurious product. The colour had washed out and it was all over the other clothes. My soft cotton linen white shirt with brilliant green, red and orange stripes had turned a shade of grey. Gone with it was a couple of white vests. It was such a painful moment for me, to take the damaged shirt in my hands. Memories of when I wore that shirt came flooding back and that made the situation more unbearable.

I didn’t throw away the shirt, but did the spurious jockey. Next time I wash my clothes, I am going to wash this stained shirt along and see if the colour will drain away. If not, it still remains white in the photographs.

A FULL BLADDER AND CONVERSATION

2008-11-10T19:20:00.000+05:30

Am sure many guys have been in this situation, with a full bladder and an interesting girl in the conversation!

It was after the welcome dinner at the FEBS crystallization course in Czech Republic. It was the first international congress I was attending after starting my PhD and I was highly excited to be encircled by PhD’s from around the world. All the twenty four participants were having a good time after dinner. After a game of pool with friends and beer, I felt the need to take a leak to get more comfortable and started walking towards the rest room. I had to cross the big hall where we had dinner and groups of students were discussing science and politics and religion.

Just half way through the hall, this female researcher intercepted me. She introduced herself and shook my hand and asked mine and my research status. I told her in brief about my project and my need of crystals. Crystallographers usually need good diffracting crystals and when I told her that I am ok with crystals that just diffract, she was shocked! According to her, it was blasphemy! Then I explained in detail and she was impressed. The fact that she got impressed, made me more excited and the purpose of my walk through was forgotten for the moment.

Minutes rolled by and I felt nature calling me loudly, but I fought it back. I did not want to break the great scientific rapport that was building on and that too with a beautiful female researcher! She started into the details of her project and the difficulties she was facing. My mind was half concentrating on her words and half working on to avoid spillage. Nobel laureate Peter Agre’s words got reminded “If you fight back the sensation, then it has to get back inside after sometime. This cycle is most important and is responsible for the fact that many of you are sitting here and listening to me without running off to take a leak!.” But I think he forgot to mention the time frame of the get back inside for it felt like an over flooded dam ready to break any second. I crossed my legs and now I could not hear her words at all. Still she kept talking and talking and I was rooted just for the fact that she was talking. My responses became routine. A nod, smile, yes ofcourse and aahan’s became programmed for auto intervals.

I could have just told her that I needed to take a leak and go off, but also there was the fact the when I came back from the rest room, I will not be able to continue this great conversation and I knew that other guys were ready to pounce on her the moment I left the scene. But then finally, after an hour of fight back and conversation, she wanted to get some beer and I used this opportunity to tell her that I need to remove the excess beer accumulated in me and ran off towards bliss!

Spiritual connections and Hamburg

2008-11-03T18:12:00.003+05:30

I was really confused for the title of this blog and finally settled for this one.

It was 1980 and my father got an offer to work with Prof. Armin de Meijere. He was Prof. of Organic chemistry in the University of Hamburg at that time. But unfortunately, due to some political problems, the funding for the project was withdrawn and my father couldn’t make it there. After that, life took a different course for him, but working with this Prof. was something he really missed and wanted to.

Nearly three decades later, in the year 2008, I get a chance to work in the University of Hamburg. It was really a special offer. I met the contact in Czech republic and made arrangements to visit the DESY (Deutche Electroniche SYncrotron) facility in the University of Hamburg to measure Dynamic Light Scattering on my proteins. His name was Dominik and he was doing his PhD under Prof. Betzel. It took me three hours from Muelheim to reach Hamburg. The train journey was brilliant and the main railway station in Hamburg is just similar to our good old Chennai central! Over bridges, kiosks in the platform, huge clocks, battered down main display board, dim lighting, the smell of food and the crowd, it was nostalgia in a new place.

I made my way to the DESY campus by taking the suburban train ( S1 / S11 to Oathmarshen, direction of Wedel and bus from Oathmarshen to DESY ) and was bowled over by the huge campus and greenery there. Dominik took a hungry me to the canteen where I had real good German food! To get good food in the canteen is a blessing and we sadly don’t have in here in Muelheim. And then it was time for measurements. They came out really well and Domink was pretty good in pacing up the work.

I told him, “If time presents, then I need to visit the department of organic chemistry in the University of Hamburg and try to find the whereabouts of Prof. Meijere.” “Dr. Meijere?! How do you know him?! He was my teacher in Organic chemistry in Gottingen” was his surprised reply. Then I told him my father’s story. It was really a very special moment for me. I actually worked with a student of the Prof. with whom my father should have worked with! There is some spiritual connection running beneath everyone. It surfaces during happenings like this.

After a days work in the lab, I met up with my school mate, Harsha. He works in Hamburg. Unfortunately, I could not see the beauty of the city due to my packed schedule. Before boarding the train back, I sent dad a postcard…” Dear Appa, we will visit Hamburg as the first place when you come here to visit me…” Love, Munna.

P R A G U E

2008-10-22T18:36:00.000+05:30

Arriving in Prague

The flight from Dortmund takes less than an hour to reach Ruzyne, the airport of Prague. Bus number 119 connects the airport with the metro station in the green line, Dejvicka. The metro has a train every 3 minutes and from Dejvicka reach Muzeum from where the Red line has to be taken to reach Hlavni nadrazi, the main station. Prague still has to work on the beautification of its main station. Some metro stops look far better than the main!

The main mode of transport in Prague is the metro. It consists of 3 lines red, green and yellow and they cover all the important land marks in the city. We never used the yellow line even once! Accommodation was at hotel Kafka which is a tram stop away from the main station. The hotel room was impressive. It was a double bed room apartment with a cooking place. Very comfortable place for six people.

Sightseeing

Prague has complete structures. None of its landmarks were destroyed in World War II nor has there been any destructive revolution. Though there is a history of the king being thrown of the window from his palace, everything is intact! I guess Hitler too was amazed by Prague’s beauty that he didn’t have give us any ruins.

The Vltava River has 18 bridges and out of these, the most famous one is the Charles Bridge. It is highly crowded by tourists who cross over from the town side to visit the Prague castle. This bridge stands from the 15th century and has an array of statues of saints and patrons of that time. Now, there are also shops and artists who earn a living on the bridge.

Crossing the bridge and climbing uphill takes you to the magnificent Prague Castle, Pražský hrad as called in Czech. This is the most beautiful place in Prague. The history of the castle dates back to the 9th century and the grounds comprise of the Basilica of St. George and St. Vitus. The castle served as the office of the president when it was Czechoslovakia and now serves for the head of the state in Czech Republic and is the world’s largest ancient castle.

Walking down to the old town square is the marvellous Astronomical clock or the Pražský orlo. It consists of three main components and is a highly complex system. There is an Astronomical ring, stationary background and a zodiac dial. Once an hour, there is also the walk of Apostles when the clock chimes.

Wenceslas Square is the new town of Prague. It is the cultural and shopping hub. It houses theaters and the National museum and the majestic statue of St. Wenceslas who was the patron saint responsible for the new town.

Prague also has a set of impressive Jewish Synagogues. We did not visit the interiors due to lack of time. Nevertheless, our guide on the tour explained us the beauty of it. The Old-New synagogue, the oldest of them all stands from the 12th century and is still functioning!

Shopping in Prague

I was highly excited with shopping in Prague. There are so many things that are trademark and cultural of Prague. The Bohemian crystals for sure, though expensive they are worth the collection. Czech is also the thrive of puppetry and you can find numerous puppets that can be string controlled. Collectable miniature designs of the astronomical clock and traditional hand painted Czech eggs are a must buy.

Food

Vegetarian is a bit on the low key but its not a difficult place if you are not choosy. The traditional Czech dish is the Bramborachi which is made of potatoes. Sometimes its served with cheese on top which makes it too fatty! Sour cabbages are a delicacy and definitely worth the try. Meat eaters have heaven here. Czech beer, the Urquell Pilsner and Budweiser are definitely thumbs up. The Budweiser is an original of here and not America. God knows why the Americans want to spoil such a great beer!

Blogger is not configured enough to accomodate pics in the format I've prepared this travel log! Anyway, hope this is a good enough apetizer!

Workshop in Advanced Crystallization, FEBS, Nove Hrady

2008-10-21T22:47:00.004+05:30

Nove Hrady, had the workshop not been held there, I am sure everyone who attended wouldn’t have noticed this place! 350 Kms away from Prague, 30 Kms away from České Budějovice, Nove Hrady translates into New Castle. The history of this town dates back to the 12th century when a castle was built for protection of trade routes and since then till now Nove Hrady houses a population of 3000. It has all the essentials and to top it all, it has got a research institute!

This is the castle/research labs where we were put up for 7 days. There were lectures everyday morning from 9.00 am to 1.00 pm and then practical demonstrations from 2.30 pm till 6.30 pm and followed by late night beer party discussions which extended till 2.00 am in the morning!

This workshop was the first of its kind I attended. It was really a wonderful experience to be admits so many international audience and scientists. Unlike the Lindau conference, where I a big group of Indians with me, here I was all alone. Hence my interaction with the group was better than weak Van der Waals!

Apart from the scientific discussions, there was a lot of discussion regarding the culture, religion and habits of people from different nationalities. The amazing things that stuck me there is that fact that people can be programmed to hear things differently!
It was early morning and me, Sofia, Valentina, Rosa and Manuela decided to go for a walk. Suddenly, Valentina said, hear the rooster… kekerakeee kee! Her in-the-middle-of- road jiggle like the chicken was unfortunately not caught on the camera, but her representation of the roosters call was different! Me and Sofia were, come on, its cockaraakoo koo. Rosa and Manuela were with Valentia and apparently they hail from Italy. Then we made a survey and found that many people agreed to hearing it as kekerakee kee and not like how we hear it! Some serious audibility programming!

The travel to Nove Hrady for me was with Terese Begfors and Claude. They are both crystallographers and gave awesome presentations and workshops. Terese is a vegetarian and loves cooking Indian! Wow! I was really amazed and shared with her some of my patented recipes! The getting back to Prague was in a train. The group that travelled back was Me, Sofia and Kathrina. Kathrina is a native of Czech and she helped us get the tickets. When I entered the Nove Hrady station, boom, I was transported to my good old childhood days! What a station! Very old, smelled old too. There was burnt diesel in the air, just a single platform, cross the rails and hop into trains, heaped building material and a worn down building. It was just beautiful! There was some construction work going on and hence no trains to České Budějovice from where we were supposed to take a connection fast train to Prague. So, we were shuttled till another station in a bus and then from there in a diesel carriage. The diesel carriage was slow and late and we would have missed the fast train to Prague. Kathrina spoke to the conductor “ there are two international scientists travelling to Prague and they must reach on time. Do something and hold the train there.” The conductor called the controller in Prague and had the fast train held just for the two of us! Man, what a feeling it was!

living like a king!

2008-10-06T00:11:00.002+05:30

sitting in the conference hall now! First blog using my mobile. This place is just wonderful. We are put up in a castle for this advanced course in protein crystal growth, methods and techniques. Assembled are international students and big heads in the field! More information coming up soon!

Missing Amma

2008-09-24T13:33:00.002+05:30

The colours have changed. The autumn leaves crumble beneath my feet as I walk my way up to my institute. It’s a typical September morning and the trees shower their yellow leaves every time the chill wind rushes. I am all geared to fight the cold with my denim jacket and a Kashmir shawl wrapped around my neck.

He has to walk down hill to catch his school bus, a boy nearing his double digit age. His morning face was a substitute for the sun that was denied its show by the mist and fog.
One good thing about school here is, the children don’t need a bulldozer to lift their books unlike how it is back home. And so, this young guy was all set and his mother was opening the gate for him.

It was just a usual scene. The one that happens and happened in everyone’s life. But when I saw it, I could not control my emotions and memories came flooding back. His mom bent down and kissed him on his cheeks and he returned it with his hands wrapped around her neck and then started skipping off. He turned back and waved to him mother and she was waving to him leaning on to the gate. The boy kept waving until the distance from which he could no longer see his mother and his mother kept waving to him until the tip of his cap disappeared. I miss my mother.

Well yeah, she was there with me here and it was just like being home. She used to walk with me to the institute everyday and used to be there every time I returned home after a tired day. I never told her then how comfortable it was, but at least now I want to. Waking up to an empty house and entering one has become a routine now and I tell you, it’s the most painful phase to go through. But the memories and love will keep me going until things get back to how I want them to be.

Tom, Dick & Kambodhi

2008-09-12T13:14:00.001+05:30

It is early morning and I am sitting in my Arbeitsraum (work room). Its Friday and work at the moment is saturated and slow. I much my milk bread and scan the Hindu online for news. A caption brings back nostalgia. Quiz on carnatic music.

Way back in 2004, two amateur flautists and one vocal maestro joined forces for a quiz on carnatic music. My efforts to dig out the article that was published in Hindu turned futile and hence owing to my crammed memory, I have to skip details of the organizer. But I think it was carnatica.com or the like. The quiz master was Sanjay Subramanian.

It was none other than me, Vivek and Karthik. Notorious trio we have been, right from standard VI till B.Sc and we shared a common interest in music. And so, we decided to press our luck and participate in the carnatic quiz that was being held that year. Knowing that there would be a prize for the best team name; we racked our brains hard for days to find one. The three musikteers, Masters of Raga and many more were flushed way with the thought that they were common until we realized that we need a name which conveys a meaning that music is for everyone. Standing outside my apartment and balancing our cycles on null velocity we were rolling with laughter over the ingenious and ignoble names that cropped up until there arose a statement “jeez dude, some Tom, Dick and Harry is going to walk away with this prize.” That did it. Tom, Dick and Kambodhi was christened upon our team and the application was submitted.

The quiz was on a Sunday at an auditorium in a school in MRC Nagar. We cycled there and registered at the front desk and as soon as we went inside, we knew that we were not standing any chances to qualify for the finals! Music stalwarts were participating and we were just a bunch of enthusiastic amateurs! Yet, we took up the written preliminary round and were happy with the number of questions we answered right but as anticipated, failed to make it to the finals. We sat back and enjoyed the quizzing and then it was time to announce the prizes. Away went first and second and then came the best team name. Sanjay’s voice was booming in our ears “The best team name award goes to Tom, Dick and Kambodhi. What an innovative name! Come up on stage guys and which one of you is Kambodhi?!” That was a brilliant moment for us and our expectations were not in vain!

I feel a bit sad now, that I am not able to pursue this wonderful art of music with zest and zeal from here in Germany and I guess Vivek feels the same too being in USA. But we are happy that our Kambodhi ( Karthik) is doing it for the three of us back home. Cheers to you and our team!!

Railway stations

2008-08-21T21:14:00.001+05:30

After more than two weeks, time wants to test me, whether I will write in the after hours of my work and I succeed! Wanted to write about this for a very long time, about something uncommon.

Railway stations.

Railway stations have always been my fascination. I love everything about them and here I will describe about some that have played a very important role in my life and some which I have enjoyed.

Tiruchirapalli Junction or TPJ is the first one that always brings back the sweetest memories. Early morning 5AM is the time when Rock Fort express will enter the well light Junction and I always used to press my face against the window to see the train entering the platform. The smell of early morning in TPJ still lingers around. Way back in 1990, the station used to be filled with the smell of burning coal and oil and after the advent of Diesel and Electric engines, only the smell changed a bit and not the charisma.
My parents used to take me to this station every time I wanted an outing for they know that is the best place to satisfy me! I enjoyed seeing the steam engines pulling the carriages for coupling with the mail line and loved the coupling process. It was here I got my first ambition, to become an engine driver.

Karur station is another beautiful place. Especially in the evenings of October. We used to go to Karur for performing Utsavam to the Thanthondri Perumal (He who appeared by himself) and catch the return train at around 9PM back to Chennai. To the station we used to reach by 7PM and being a restless boy, I just can’t sit still. The station is simple, not a big and complicated one like TPJ. Three platforms, out of that, one unused in the middle, wooden benches, lots of trees and one very old building in the entrance. The breeze will carry the smell of Neem and I used to walk the entire length of the station a dozen times before our train could arrive.

Tambaram, now a junction, is also a very nostalgic one. No roof and the sun used to pierce everyone in the afternoon. The reason why I love this station is because of the brilliant Bonda and the Vadai available in the VRS. My grandfather used to take me in the electric train from Mambalam to Tambaram, get me Aaloo bonda there and then bring me back home. This was the everyday routine for me until I joined school and after that it became a weekend ritual!

Thirumailai, a station with romantic memories! An unforgettable journey with my peppermint started here. Situated above the Buckingham canal, Thirumailai is also a very simple station. Being close to my home, it always kindles memories of TPJ for me whenever I cross it and that was everyday!

Koln is one station that really made me miss home and TPJ. It was around 11PM in the night when I entered the station from Bonn. Had to wait in Koln for an hour to catch my train to Muelheim and that one hour made me relive my childhood and boyhood days. There is a big dome that covers nearly half of the station and the lights are yellow. The breeze enters into the station, bringing with it the wetness of the Rhine running just nearby and the moon casts a shadow of the magnificent cathedral standing just outside the station. The length is long and evenly spaced with seats. I sat down there, away from the roof, and then came flooding back all these memories.

A real good day!

2008-08-04T21:12:00.000+05:30

Today was a real good day for me. Well, what is a good day? The definition has been changing as I grow up. Obvious! When I search into my countless neurons to remember one good day in my childhood, this is what I can stamp as a good day. A day when my parents allowed me to burst fire crackers though it was not the season. Growing up a bit more, a good day was one that had no homework to do and when I was free to play as soon as I came back from school. I don’t remember doing homework anyways! A few more years up the ladder and it was a day when I could play my videogames after studies. Then it graduated to days when I could go out with my friends. Come College and real good days became many! Days of practical sessions and inter collegiate culturals. Days when I used to meet her were exceptionally good days and this is not a blog to describe how it felt!

It’s funny what I define now as a real good day. Like today, the hours were perfectly paced. Stomach did not grumble before lunch and I didn’t have to sit in front of the computer for long. My solution behaved properly during purification and the centrifuge did not spit it out whilst concentration. I did not feel sleepy after lunch but headed straight to the crystals to take a look at them. Immediately to my first German class that lasted for nearly an hour and also the compliment from my German teacher that my language skill is already good and then running to the labs again to finish my samples.

To end the day well, I happily poured the wasted liquid nitrogen on the floor and felt like I was in heaven! And I am blogging in my extra working hour too! What else can be a perfect day? 

I hope the sun sets with good food too!

Discovering Time

2008-07-31T20:52:00.000+05:30

Been a long time. Really a long time. I guess my reluctance to write is because there is no one encouraging me to write with constant comments and pats on the back. And I should not forget to mention that I was searching for time to write. There were situations where I just wanted to write on how I felt, about myself and about the world. I guess it was the combined factor of time and encouragement that had put me off.

Now, I want to do a new beginning, wanting to start blogging on earthly and non existent issues just to kill the new found time. Where did this time suddenly come from? Well, I decided to relax after 5PM in the lab and slowly do the reactions to end the day late! I was pretty slow discovering this, but circumstances forced me to this. In a way it’s good! Let me see how far I am able to stick to this practice of blogging regularly!

Cheers to myself!

My Life.... As I Want It

2008-06-05T15:30:00.001+05:30

After a brief wipe with a wet cloth, I set my hair and check my face in the bikes mirror. My old bike has been discarded as it could not withstand the long trips I have to make everyday to my working spot. This is a new one. 220CC, black with silver steaks, digital display, disc brakes and custom made Bluetooth recognition. No button start, for I always like to start it with a kick. Guess its always done to show my superiority over the machine and that it is tamed to me. With home made food slung over my back and my fingers still smelling of the wonderful pongal that my mother made, I start to my office. An hours drive through the tricky traffic. My iPod makes time vanish and I reach office not tired from the drive, but with more drive to challenge the chemicals. Flexible working hours and known-to-my-dad boss makes work and life brilliant.

With occasional messages from my peppermint, the day dissolves and I start back home. Amma calls me and asks me to get some good vegetables and not to forget to buy spinach. Carefully parking my bike away from the maddening crowd in Mada street, I walk in the sun sinking evening through the wonderfully aromatic place and pick up mom ordered vegetables and those I feel like too. When just taking the bike, peppermint messages me. “where are you da? Am here in the usual shop where I recharge my mobile balance.” I run across the road to meet her and bask in her sight. Her blushes and smile are the best energisers. She is working in a well known private bank. As happy as I am. We decide to meet at MFAC after dinner to listen to the concluding thukaddas of the days kutchery.

I reach home by 6.30PM. Amma and Appa are home. Sister is still at dance class. God, how can this female manage so many things?! We discuss about the day and I call up my sister to find out what time she will be back. Appa has retired from his job. But he still goes to the college and takes classes. Amma is pursuing her interests. Together they find more romance. Sister comes back at 7.15PM. We sit together for dinner. Eating is always on the floor. The dining table is just for guests and the flower vase and it doubles up as the ironing bench too. Spicy kurma with steaming Jeera rice is the menu for the day. The plates don’t need washing after we finish eating them. They are sparkling!

Appa and Amma decide to join us for the concert. Its around 8.30PM now. Sister wants to finish her assignments. Her BSc is nearing completion. I tell parents that I will pick up my peppermint and meet them at the concert hall and start to her house. Her parents welcome me happily. We have a small discussion on when to have our engagement and some worldly politics. Me and peppermint walk hand in hand to the concert hall.

It was a beautiful one. TM Krishna was singing Brochevaevarura in Kamaas raaga. One of our very favorites. We hummed along without disturbing the rasikas nearby. After an hour of enthralling music we met with my parents outside the concert hall and then I walked with my peppermint to her house.

10 PM when I reached back home again. Sister was bent on her studies and Appa boiled milk. Amma always used to complain the he gave milk only in moderate heat! After checking and sending mails for an hour, I decide to call it a day. My good night message arrives and I go to bed.
Seriously, this is what I wish my life is. Home is where you heart is. Home is also where your dreams are. What I wish for may come true. But sitting here far away from home and thinking of all the possibilities how life could have turned out to be is very painful. May be it will turn out more beautiful, but all I want is the above, at least.

I AMSTERDAM

2007-10-24T13:36:00.000+05:30

I AMSTERDAM Prasanna Venkatesh Rangadurai

This is the official tourist logo of Amsterdam.
I reached there by InterContinental Express ICE 224.
Boarded the train at Oberhausen which is 10 minutes
from my home in Mulheim. The journey took 2.5 hours at
an average speed of 130 km/hr and reached Amsterdam
Central by 7pm on Friday 19 OCT 2007.

First Impression

The city is a typical tourist spot and is also maintained so. The tourists also help a lot in the maintenance process by littering. Gives a home coming feeling!! The temperature was around 12 degrees in the daytime and 4 degrees in the night and no breeze at all. So you don’t feel chilly. The sun was out and no clouds.
It’s a night city. Things start after 8pm and when the darkness begins, the lights are on! The streets are flooded with local and tourists and roadside music bands. Noisy I would say.

City layout – Architecture

Amsterdam means city on the river Amstel.
The city is around 8 feet below the sea level
and the water is drained through the extensive
canals. You can use the water ways to navigate
and get to any place in the city. The central station
is the landmark that one should use to recognise
Amsterdam in the movies. The style is a blend
of Gothic and Renaissance built in the 1800’s
by Cuypers. The other very famous landmark is
the Rijksmuseum build by the same architect. Unfortunately I could not make it to the museum due to time/money crunch. I need to make another trip just to visit the museums in Amsterdam. Amsterdam is also called the Venice of North. It has many beautiful bridges, even wooden ones from the 16th century.

Diamonds

Amsterdam goes hand in hand with diamonds. I went to a diamond
cutting industry where the famous Kohinoor diamond from India
was cut for the Queen. Well, diamonds are cheap if you have a salary
of 10,000 Euros per month!! There are several shops which sell
diamonds and they are tax free.

Van Gogh

The Van Gogh museum is one place I need to visit again.
I had to see it quickly in just 2 hours time while more than
that is needed to capture Van Gogh’s master pieces mentally
as no photography is allowed. It has more than 200 of his
originals and also the letters he wrote to his brother Theo.
I don’t think there was blood flowing through Van Gogh’s veins. It was paint and emotions. His paintings capture the raw emotions, mainly of the farmers and his colours reflect them too.

Holland

I took this one day tour of Holland to see the famous Windmills and the capital city of Hague. It was a very nice trip to learn about the evolution of Holland the way they are utilising the resources. They are actually building a whole new neighbourhood by draining out water bodies. These are done over years
using windmills and windmills are every where
in Holland. There are several pastures for the
rearing of cows and Holland’s diary products
are yum!
The city of Hague is very beautiful.
It the economic centre of Holland
and houses all the embassies, ministries and
commercial giants. The architecture is a
blend of Modern, Renaissance, Gothic and
Dutch Classism.

There is a small village called Delft before Hague. It is an artisans village and famous for the Dutch clay artefacts.

The next place is the Madurodam. It is actually a war monument built 1952. It is an architecture park of miniature Holland and having the world’s biggest miniature railways.

Amsterdam and sex

Amsterdam is also designated as the sex capital of Europe.
This is a place where prostitution is legal and so are the drugs.
A big board says that pimping is illegal in Amsterdam.
As if people need them here. The girls stand in the most skimpy
clad dress and beckon the people with erotic gestures and language while the niggers ask if you want straw filled with quality marijuana and Viagra pills. I walked through the streets with pity for the body sellers and thinking about the mind set of the people who sleep with them.
There is also a sex museum which I visited. There are pornographic pictures from the late 18th century and paintings and some bizarre stuff. There is an Ivory sex toy in display which was made in India. The designs around them indicate it was from the Mugal period. Interesting!!

Travel and Food

There are a lot of Indian restaurants in Amsterdam and
many joints that have pure vegetarian stuff. Salads, French
fries and Falafel are the hottest selling items. Food is
available in all the varieties as Amsterdam is flocked by
millions around the world. Heineken is the trademark beer here.
The city has a network of trams and metro trains.
The waterways are used only for tourism.

People

The people in Amsterdam are very tolerant and friendly. They have a liking for Indians. There was a Dutch guy who was speaking to on the tram. He spoke in Tamil! He was there in Pondycherry and Thiruvanamalai for sometime and he picked up Tamil. There were also a lot of people who enquired about India. The main language spoken here is Dutch and almost everyone knows English. Dutch is similar to Germany and people understand it too. The population here enjoys Discotheques and casinos.

Return

I returned back to Mulheim by ICE 125 that was from
Amsterdam central to Frankfurt. Got down at Oberhausen at
6.30pm on Sunday 21 OCT 2007.

I love you

2007-10-08T23:44:00.000+05:30

I wouldnt have spoken about me, i would have spoken about you.

I wouldnt have told her i miss her, for i dont, i would have told her i miss you, for i do.

I wouldnt have asked her how she was, I would have told her how I am, with you.

I wouldnt have asked her about her happiness, I would have told her about you, my happiness.

I wouldnt have talked about the past, I would have spoken about you, my present, my future.

I love you.

Hindus... A Forgotten Definition

2007-10-02T16:42:00.000+05:30

What was India before India? It was Hindustan. Place of Hindus. Why did they change it ? The change of name has led to the loss of definition of Hindus and the rupture of the religion too.

December 6 1992 saw a big riot. The demolishing of the Babri Masjid. The discussion here is not about who is right and who is wrong in doing that. But the discussion is on preserving the belief. The Muslims fought for theirs and the Hindus for theirs. The funniest part is co existence and yet all the blood. The most funniest part is that the government has been celebrating December 6th as Babari Masjid anniversary and is reminding the people of all the differences.

A non Hindu sect was able to establish itself in a country called Hindustan. Its about secularism and at the same time not demeaning the existing religions. Every religion has the right to defend itself when it is threatened. Only that we should in a more civilized manner. The country needs more than fights due to religion.

But the country does not seem to realize that. The Rama Sethu project us emerging as a potential threat to Hinduism and the saddest part is that people have forgotten who a Hindu is. A Hindu is a native of Hindustan. Any citizen of Hindustan is a Hindu. Unfortunately now, people have started associating only Brahmins as Hindus. This has arisen from the political scenarios and the reservation systems.

A temple is a monument of belief. This holds good for structures that are considered to be sacred. The Ramar bridge is supposed to be destroyed to make way between India and Srilanka. Or is it being made so that LTTE can be benefited?! I was shocked at the remarks made by the CM of TN on this issue. He questions the existence of Lord Rama and he asks for proof of Srilankas burning by Lord Hanuman. What does the so called Kalaingar think about himself? He does not believe in God, we all know that. But he is forgetting that he is a Hindu. He is questioning the very base upon which India has been built and has insulted the Hindu population.

What is necessary is not proof, but belief. And the stronghold of tradition and religion in our country is only through epics like Ramayana and Mahabharata and upon this Hinduism is built. Already our country is being torn apart by the caste and now religious disputes? The CM of TN must think twice before speaking such things. I hope he realizes the meaning the Hindu and the need to preserve something that people consider sacred.

Yet again, I am astonished that there is no resistance from the people regarding this. This is a matter of religious belief and the government is planning to destroy the Bridge that is believed to be built by Lord Rama. This is a national issue and Kalaignar is trying to make it into a Brahmin issue! It feels very repulsive, sitting here and thinking about this issue.

When are the politicians going to stop dividing people? Its high time India becomes Hindustan again.

The sky is still blue

2007-09-13T13:58:00.000+05:30

The sky is still blue because of the reservation and the quota system. Read my previous blog ‘ why the sky is blue ‘ to understand the first line. The quota system has damaged the very roots from where our country needs to derive its essentials in becoming developed.

Education is the most important tool in a under developed country like ours. Now don’t raise eye brows. What is that we gain from the title Developing Nation? Its just imparts a false security and the hallucination that what ever is going on is right. Unfortunately, this system of quota is destroying everything what every Indian citizen wants to achieve and feel proud of.

I cannot oppose the quota system. It is essential when our country is divided into two major classes. The village and the city. Life is totally different in these places. Unfortunately, education is different too. This is that primary factor that actually makes the scenario worse. If education was the same, would you need a quota? See, this makes the quota system look funny. If there were a quota for the village students alone ( because of the education standards ) it case would be much simple. But caste spoils the whole thing. Why someone who seldom knows anything about the subject should, become a faculty just because of the quota system?

Our country cannot depend on Ekalavyans. Ekalavyan needed no Guru to become a master himself. Unfortunately in a population of 1,129,866,154 Indians (13-09-07, 2.15 PM IST) need gurus. The same population cannot depend on born geniuses, they need made geniuses. And geniuses are made only through proper education.

The quota/reservation system has destroyed the essential roots from where the development starts. Teachers. Let me illustrate a true and recent scenario. The government colleges needed chemistry faculty and an interview was conducted. 25 candidates appeared ( all above the age of 35 ), some already working as faculties in private colleges. The maximum belonged to a particular caste and no one was from the ‘knowledgeable class’. I would not have been angry if there was a single person who loved the subject, who spoke flawlessly, who wanted to become a teacher and who could make students understand the subject. But they were there only for the governments need to fill in the quota of teachers, get a government job and pension. A candidate who was already a chemistry faculty in a private college could not recollect the oxidation stated of common metals and struggled at equations. No body had command over the language or the subject. All of then had come into the system because of the quota.

Where are the people who actually love the subject? Who actually like teaching and are ready to dedicate themselves for imparting knowledge? Why is the government not looking at these aspects? Why does the government want anyone to teach? The answer is simple. People who qualify for all these are chucked out because their quota has been filled. ( If there are 100, 1 is the quota for such qualified people). Why do highly educated and capable people not come for teaching ( be it in any quota )? The pay is pathetic. There is no investment for teachers. I don’t know where else the investment is being made on if not on teachers!

India will start developing only when importance is given to the knowledge level and not the caste or quota. After all Who is John Galt ?

Lessons From The Retarded

2007-05-21T17:29:00.000+05:30

I sat down at the restaurant with my sister. She had long asked for a treat. Having competed 5 years of college and getting ready to launch myself into the next level of my life, research, I thought we would relax at this posh restaurant for dinner.

It was a brightly lit place. The menu card was elaborate and you had to spend ten minutes on going through it and another ten minutes on deciding what you wanted to eat! After successfully ordering the chosen menu we sat and talked about the things that were going around us. About the couple nearby who looked as if they were on a war front, about a family who had tasted half of what was there on the menu card, about the lonely man who was sipping a bottle of fizz…

Just sometime later, in came a family of four. There was this particular kid, six years old who was mentally retarded. They sat down near a family of three. There was a kid too in the family of three. But he was just as we were.

I saw the way the special child struggled to get on to the chair. His parents had to help him and keep his hands on the table so that he did not lose his balance. He had a inquisitive look on his face. Immediately he started to fumble with the menu card and tried to put it in his mouth. When his father did the ordering, he too wanted to say something. He was pointing at the nearby kid who was having ice creams. There was a look on his eyes that said, hey, am the normal guy here. Why are you guys behaving strange and not like me?

Looking at him, so many thoughts stuck me. Here is a kid who did no fault, but punished. As much as he wants to be free of all the restrictions, as much as he is restrained. We, the normal ones, do all possible things in life and get away with it. When there is so much freedom unbound, we act restricted and we act incapable.

What is our purpose? We live a life of certainty and dependence. Certainty has made us lazy. Everybody is certain that tomorrow will definitely come and we are going to live through it! Yet we lose out on the purpose of our life. We are capable of finding our purpose. What is his purpose in life? His existence is to prove to us that we are gifted. When you look at him, he makes you realise that you have so much in you and yet you are not capable of carrying it out. What is the difference then?

The special people are really those who can, but who don’t. He was born retarded, but many become retarded. Live you life and make the difference.

Why the sky is Blue?

2006-11-07T15:42:00.000+05:30

This prestigious college in our city was granted Autonomy recently. Autonomy in inculcating education to students, to set its own syllabus and to have its own methodology in teaching. But, no autonomy in selecting students. That’s one thing the government is very strict about. Promote the intake of more SC/ST candidates and suppress the study of the 'interested class'.

The reservation system is going beyond tolerance. Many students aspire to study. They are denied the college seat. Others get bare minimum marks and get into colleges with ease even though they detest the subject and don’t have a background in that. Let the seats go unfilled, but you just cant give seat to a student of the 'interested class'. The seat can go only to the candidate with his community certificate showing SC/ST and with his marks reading as 40%.

I asked one of the SC candidates in my own class. He studies well and understands well and he is interested in what he is doing. “How would you feel if another of your community fellow has been awarded this seat with just a pass mark in this subject along with you, would you feel comfortable"? He was practical and not political. He said NO.

There are students who study and are really interested in studying. They are know as the 'interested class'. Why not give them the seat? If they are unable to pay the college fees, let this reservation quota help them to pay the fees or speaking politically, let them even given them free education.

By the way, here are a few responses in an end semester paper (Chemistry major). The question was " why the sky is blue ? ". This responses were given by the specially selected 'reservation quota' candidates other wise affectionately called as " Arjun Singh babies".

1. The sky is replaced by sodium thiosulphate. Hence it appears blue.
2. The sky appears blue because of the eye. ( Philosophical huh??)
3. Nitrate replaces bromate and replaces chlorine and replaces Blue color of sky comes.
4. Therefore s orbital and chlorine give therefore blue color. Therefore the sky is blue.
5. Why the sky is blue?

Now, whom are we to blame? The school in which they were educated? Most of the students hail from the government run corporation schools. You can imagine the state of teachers and the kind of education! The college is helpless, they are forced to accommodate these kind of students fearing the governmental policies. This is big crap. How many students you think passed this paper?

And why is that people who cant study need to study? Is our economy based on the number of educated people? Why is that true knowledge is not sought after at? Why are people afraid of pursuing what they can?

Well, this is our Government!!

Trickles........

2006-10-28T18:34:00.000+05:30

Trickles have always mesmerized me. The stream of water running down the street on a rainy day has something that couples my neurotransmitters responsible for bliss and happiness ( Phenyl ethyl amine and a dash of serotonin i guess !! ). When it runs over sand and stones, it looks just beautiful that i feel like watching it until all water flows down. The ocassional floating down of a leaf and a flower along with the downpour of water from the roof tops into the trickle makes it look like a vision of heaven!

Its a small unnoticeable happening on a rainy day, but it attracts my most attention!
Today, it was raining heavy and i was in my college hostel taking notes on Cholestrol ( I have to burn the excess in me!!!). Started from the hostel admist the rains wearing my rain coat towards the parking area where my beautiful blue Ducati stood waiting for me ( well, its just self soothing!!). But before that, this trickle flowing over pebbles and sand got me fixed on to it. I tore a page from my note, made a paper boat and was following its course downstream. There was big fallen branch on its path and superman heaved it out before my titanic could hit it!!

I know, its sounds crazy, but I just love doing that! Rains and trickles and paper boats!

GROW UP?

2006-10-13T08:18:00.000+05:30

Into my fifth year of college now and transversing into the final semester of my college life. We are sitting in the classroom, a round table with a big board on the western wall and thousands of books enclosing us. The professor walks into the room and announces, " Guys, you ve got your model examinations next week, from Monday to Friday. " Hey ! But, the Friday is Diwali eve ! The professor looks at me,

" Arent you grown up? whats the deal in Diwali for a MSc student like you"

Well, how is that growing up is defined? Is it defined in terms of how many festivals you dont care to celebrate and the many birthday days you tend to ignore like any other day in your life? if this is the defenition, then to the world, I am certainly not a grown up. But, do I care, certainly not, I define my happiness and I lead myself to it.

People want to stay young. Anti oxidants, peroxide creams, free radical scavengers, wrinkle control, skin upliftment and what not. Every chemical formula goes into the body just making things worse. I shall give a simpler treatment, just celebrate. Keep your mind young, you stay young.

I still feel as though, everytime I light up a fire cracker, its the first one I am lighting. The smell of the burnt powder of Nitrates and sulphides does more good than any of the creams do! The early morning competetion on who bursts the first cracker still makes me jump. The task of lighting the sky in the night is a responsibility that me and my sister look forward to. And if this means that I am not grown up, I am not!

See, celebrating works better than creams because even after years, am still going to light up the sky with my sister near me!

The System

2006-09-21T18:46:00.000+05:30

He asked me if i could,
I told him i would,
but why not now ?

What was missing?
The reason? The urge? The wounds?
Am i afraid to quit?

Yet again he asked me,
yet again I answered I would,
he said, better not.

This world accepts metamorphosis, not changes.

And then she asked if I could,
I answered i would,
But now there was a tear,
of no reason, no fear.

Senators And The Senate House

2006-09-04T18:00:00.000+05:30

Today, I thought it would be the most memorable day. The 150th year celebrations were on in the most sought after university in Madras. The " Mother of all universities " was how it was referred to. May be it was a pun intended, Mother, a person who makes us instantly sleep and I guess that’s what the students affiliated to the university do and the so called lecturers catalyze our serotonin levels that induce sleep!

The most anticipated event of today was the talk by our President. But, the President had to anticipate his turn first! The first citizen of the country was the last person to address the gathering! Our president had to endure through 2 hours and 30 mins of Tamil and Tamil Nadu politics before he could rightfully belong to his citizens, WE.

We were a large group of say nearly 700 students from various institutions and we were given a taste of politics and the beautiful Tamil "uraiaadal" of the eminent scholarly and Honorable ministers.

What is the purpose of a language? Is it to communicate or is it to change us into fanatics and never adopt any other language? When I returned from the 18th International Conference of Nobel Laureates, held at Germany, there was a meeting hosted by the Indian Government with the Minister of Science and Technology. A participant in our group started to speak in Hindi. The explanation he gave, " I find that the Germans have advanced in everything because they never speak anything else that their mother tongue. Therefore, we can also advance by speaking only in our mother tongue". Is this a statement of jealousy or ego ? In a country where there are 18 languages, is this a possible way towards development? The ultimate aim is to develop our country. Is there a question of language in this? When English is serving as a cross platform access, why is this ego playing?

Well, the brief introduction about the language war is a preface to the following passage !

The function began with the speech of the current vice chancellor in English. It was good, to the point and apt to the occasion. Then came the first Tamil speaker. Sorry for not remembering his political status. We are in Tamil Nadu and hence Tamil. Ok. But in a occasion like this, where the majority of the participants are scholars and students and some Central Government ministers, why Tamil is my question. Well, he could have completely spoke in Tamil, but there was this beautiful statement in English. " Thanks to the revulsion in IT industry " Revulsion in the IT industry!!!!? Since the purpose of language is to communicate and make understand, you are supposed to understand it as Revolution!

The next minister, " Colleges function in shipt system" . The word shift was changed to Shipt and it just sounded like Shit !

Ok, here comes the first best one. The speech by the Minister of Rural development ( state ). He inaugurated the Digital library and spoke thus ( In Tamil ) : " Libraries are important. All colleges have libraries. Students utilize the library. Students must utilize the library. Since libraries contain many books and hence they can be termed as Book store house. Scholars use the library. The fact that APJ kalam has used the library made him president. Libraries decide the fate of Tamil Nadu." Judge this speech yourself !!

Next came the speech of the man responsible for India in 1 Rupee. The man who gave internet to the farmers, instead of ides towards better crop cultivation. The words in the left are those which he said for those on the right. But since language is only to make understand, we could get the meaning.
Perumukkal : Perumakkal ( Audience )
Alambam : Aarambam ( Beginning )
Palaikegam : Palkalai kazhagam ( University )
pugzhal mundham : pugzhal mandram ( praising committee )
nootuandu vila : noothruaandu vizha ( 100th year )
Paritalum : Paaratinalum ( to praise )
palbadu : paagubadu ( discrimination )

Long live classical Tamil !

Next was the speech by the father of the minister who spoke on the importance of libraries. This function is a educational function. But his speech was full political and " reserved ". Reservation in education ( Mr Arjun Singh was there in this function and he too spoke ) . Haven’t we had a lot on this already?!! This were his concluding words ( in Tamil ) : " Like how Lord Krishna was supportive for Arjuna in the Kuruksethra war, I will support this 'Arjun' singh for the war on reservation policy." The students are supposed to take this easily and that too, spoken in a education university!!! Is there really a value for your degree certificate or your Caste certificate?

Then at last came our President. His speech lacked the fire. I guess he could not fuel his thoughts due to the very high price of fuel here! It was an ordinary speech. Mostly about his school and college day memories. Expectations shattered. We were asked to submit questions that would be answered by him. But the questions were scrutinized and selected and hand picked by someone. The President will read out the name of the selected person and that person will ask the question. These were the questions asked :

* How can we impart technology education in school?
* What is the importance of women empowerment?
* How to make technology education and moral education go hand in hand?
* How can we control environmental pollution?
* Why is India lagging in sports/Olympics despite its population?
* Why isn't news on technology reaching the farmers?
* In spite of rise in technology, why are medicine prices high in India?
* Why is not India conducting Nano technology research?

All these were hand picked admist questions about the Indian development, the fiscal nature, the current issues, the rocket failures, the reservation, the future of pure science, question on commerce and current scenarios and the response of Indian government to the recently faced problems. These kind of questions were not allowed to be asked.

The ending was most pathetic. Everyone stood up for the National Anthem. It was played in the tape. The president raised his hands and asked everyone to join in. Imagine how reverberating it would have been if all the 1500 in the auditorium sung? And isn’t it how it should be when it comes to the country? Only 10 sang along. The President, a few students and me.

" INDIA " We are forgetting that its OURS.

My Media Plugs!!

2006-07-17T18:55:00.000+05:30

The chemistry COOK!

2006-06-21T07:18:00.000+05:30

My friends always say that i always cook well with the values in the chemistry lab! Though this aspect is not verifiable ( even by my professors!!), you can verify how i cook at home! yesterday, a new recipie struck me and i name it,
PSEUDO PANEER MASALA.

The basic aim is to replace paneer by someother thing so that people on "diet " can relish it without having to worry about the calories. And also, i chose a vegetable that is usually blended in the base in this kind of dishes as the main ingerdient.

Carrot! cut it into cubes and boil it soft. Shred cabbages and boil them soft too. keep them aside and remember to add salt when cooking the carrot and cabbage. Make a fine paste of Tomato, onions and ginger. Add butter to the pan and let it melt. Add a few pieces of cinnamon, elachi and clove to this and saute. Fry cut onions in this butter melt till the aroma elevates you to a few inches above the ground. ( errr... actually till the onions are golden!) Add salt and garam masala and red chilli powder. Now, add the paste of tomato, onion and ginger with a little if water if it is too thick. Let this come to a boil. Now, add the carrot and cabbage to this and close the pan with the flame on simmer. Stir after sometime and add finely minced capsicum ( cut in thin strands for more glamour! ) . Take it off the flame and garnish with fresh corriander and few pieces of cashew.

The boiled carrot is a beautiful substitute for paneer and it tastes awesome ( tested and certified!!) . Goes well with Basmathi rice varities. In the picture, my mom cooked the pudina-basmathi rice and i did this side dish!

Guten Appetite!!

Arvind Sir

2006-06-19T14:20:00.000+05:30

When the time comes, let this be the fist one about the Man who is.

He is courage. He is strength. He is what the youth have lost. Arvind sir.

I was in my second year of BSc chemistry. Those were the days of utter carelessness. We had shortage of faculty and hence a lot of free hours. Towards the end of the second year, he entered our department. Average height, athletic, fair and with a lot of beard. His eyes spoke before he did. He was not employed like a faculty, he was a part time staff and handled only Allied chemistry.

Then came the final year BSc and then came to our class, Arvind sir. Physical chemistry, gaseous laws and stuff. He stood before us, we laughed from the last bench. If he shaves, he will look like a kid! What a baby face! Skinny man! Ho... another new faculty, gonna mess up the subject. It was just the usual welcome.

After the class, i sat mesmerized. Well, where has this guy been all these years? It was not a class, not a lecture, not a meeting. It was an experience. The way he brought out the concepts and the way he talked in class, not a single student needed to take notes. It was like energy reaching out to you and getting inside you. After all, it does travel from higher potential to lower potential without strain!

And then i contacted him. Something drew me to him. He accepted my request to train me for IIT and thus began my trip to his house.

I entered his house, there he was, seated on the floor. He looked like Buddha. Radiance emitting was so powerful that you will never feel any hatred in his presence. I asked him, sir, you practice Buddhism? why all these pictures of Lord Buddha here? What he answered that time i cant remember. But he follows no religion, for his religion is mankind, the youth.

I will coach you in chemistry. I will just give you questions, find out the answers and we will discuss them. And i return, i heard you are a flute player, so, teach me flute. I was stunned. Accepted it without any hesitation and the next moment he thrust a few currencies and asked me to get him a flute. Then he brought out his Tabala and played a thaal. After some time of chemistry discussions, he got out his Harmonium and played a raga. I was literally stunned.

In college, his classes were getting better and better. We had this practice of playing table tennis after the college time. One day we were in for a surprise. It was none other than sir, with the TT bat in hand and skillfully smashing the shots across. It took one full year for me to block and return his smash to his own table and till now, no one has won him!!

After a month of the classes, flute and TT, he asked me if i could take classes for the less previliged childen in the slums. I accepted. He made me feel the most wonderful thing. Then i came to know the real Arvind sir.

The MSc from IIT Madras, a part time faculty in our college who taught chemistry the way it must be, a philosopher, who believed that the villages in India are the key to its development. He told me about this Organization. Mother, he had named it. Educating the children from the villages and making them know the value of education and trying to develop the villages was his primary activity. His teaching in college was just his hobby!

Having education networks in over 16 villages, he coaches the students and supports them to pursue their interests. The most unique thing about him is that he gives charge to the youth. He himself, just over 25 years, has over grown all the basic things that attract the youth.

Life and emotions are nothing but chemical surges. The effect of this on the Mind controls the body. The experience of these on the body controls the mind. He had everything in control. His chemicals, his mind and his body. Meditating for hours and a staunch follower of Vipassana, he cannot be shaken by any worldly thing.

His aim, develop the villages, develop the youth, develop the nation. He resigned his job in college and is now full time into his ambition.

I go to his house often. To be frank, he is an addiction to me. It feels great to be with him, to speak to him. We have had endless conflicts about everything. From chemistry to Love. We have spent so much time playing the flute. Never seen someone who can pick up things very fast. He is the most positive force on earth.

To put it very short, the summation of energy, hope and self is him.

Life is worth living

2006-06-13T20:40:00.000+05:30

Life starts the way it must,
it goes on the way it does.
People turn when they can,
some turn whenever they can.
For others, its a wild river,
turning whenever it wants.

Many give a discourse,
on how to put life on course.
But what purpose is this force,
makes things little but worse.

sit down and give a try,
find out the real I,
then to places unreachable, you can fly.

What you are is living.
What you want to be is life.
Aferall, life is worth living.

WALK BACK, AGAIN

2006-06-13T19:54:00.000+05:30

I walked down the road,
plugged my ears with music, cutting off all others
Through the crowd i waded,
each face, meaningless, yet meaningfull.

I just moved on....
why did they exist?
why did i?
why did he stare at me?
why did it run away?
why did she stop?
why were they shouting?
Do i need answers?
I just moved on....

The wind blowing salty, i neared the beach.
with the waves beneath me, i stood.
A toddler learnt to walk, just like i did,
to walk through life.
He played in the sand, vastness unknown.
Should he know it?

The sun sank into the ocean.
I know it will rise again.
I know i will walk back here,
again.

RIDING TOWARDS THE MOON

2005-10-14T21:18:00.000+05:30

Riding towards the moon

There it shone, above everything
The dark sky bore it, with pride.
Hiding behind clouds, majestically mysterious.
I rode towards it, engines roaring,
Heart soaring, hopes brightning
It was like flying, the breeze cutting my face
The faster i rode, the farther it seemed
Gleaming, it mocked at me
" try not what you cannot mortal,
Limited by imagination you are, beyond that I am"
Its radiance seemed to blossom,
Outshadowed desire and passion,
Beauty and limitlless compassion.
The darkness of the night disappeared
From beneath the clouds it reappeared
I realised from where the glow emanated
From deep within myself was the light
Closed my eyes to behold the sight
The tyres of my bike not aground
I knew I would reach it, mortal as I am.....

UNFOUND LOVE

2005-10-12T17:52:00.000+05:30

A quest to understand what love is.....

UNFOUND LOVE

The main plot revolves around a college final year student. The guy
is brilliant and a class topper. People expect a lot from him and he
tries to keep up their expectations.

Throwing light upon his character, he is more of pessimist. Still he
performs. One day, he meets his girl ( or he thinks that he has met
the right girl ). What starts as a mere eye contact between them
blossoms into a deep passion. He becomes mad about that girl. He
thinks that she is her life. He conveys this to her..............

The main motive of the story is show that how love can help and at
the same time destruct....

before proposing to that girl he was 'the guy'.. a never say no
kind. there was a positive aura around him and he used to pass on
his charm to his company... At first he did not think that he was
in love with her. He gave it time and allowed the feeling to grow..
he found out more about her.. her mannerisms, her way of
socialization, her innocence and her candicent smile.. all these
made him more passionate about her.. It was the day when things
started to go out of place.. it was the day he proposed to
her..........

You cannot just go up to a girl and propose just like that.. i think
that anyone would approach only when you see some positive signs
from the other side. Our hero was not a fool. He had noticed that
she did look at him when he was staring at her. She had given him
her candiscent smile whenever she found him staring at her. Over
the telephone too, our hero couldn’t rule out that she wasn’t
interested. As everyone does he collected all possible details about
her (please don’t let your imagination run wild guys..!!). He found
out that she had a brother, a mom and a dad ( Of course.. how
foolish!!). She was a study machine ( as if our hero is not) and she
did not have friends.... (it was the good part, coz she did not also
have a boy friend!!). There was a lot of discussion about the
studies over the telephone between these two. Eventually he became
just mad about her. It was THE DAY when he dialed her number to say
those words... those words that were unspoken... thoughts that were
embedded deep within.. things that were about to change his
life...........

Well, feelings and emotions are dangerous. They can turn the tide around you. After all everyone is human. Emotions, if not reciprocated in the right way can be disastrous. It all started.... He could not contain himself... he tried to... he thought it was just a infatuation. So, he gave it time. He thought he would be able to forget her and all those 'feelings' would end. But, as days grew into weeks, his passion for her grew like the soaring petrol prices in our city. Sleepless nights, restless days, killing evenings and unpleasant mornings became his routine. The only time he found himself happy was when he heard her voice over the phone. He cooked up reasons to call her and just speak... It was then, one fine evening, things began to turn from worse to worst.. it was the evening when he dialed her number with trembling fingers and the hammering of his heart could be heard blocks away. He was filled with hope and expectation...
" hello..., could i speak to...." .." hey how are you? " yeah doing fine..!" so, tell me how was your day? "somewhat ok, went to college, came back tired, slept, trying to study now. Got my internals tomorrow.... so, tell me wassup with you? .... " er... just,,, i want to tell something to you... i ..er.. i am crazy about you... i am just mad about you... i couldn’t restrain myself further...."

"...err...hello ? are you there on the phone? " Apparently she became
speechless. "Hey.. i don’t have any thoughts or feelings of that kind. I
am treating you like how i treat anyone else." " so tell me..did u like
the crossword i designed today?" .... Now there was silence on his end.
He could feel the blood flow in his veins become heavy.. there was a
momentary giddyness..cold fingers and sweating eye brows.. "I dont know
what to talk.. i will call you later." The phone connection became
dead. The receiver was placed on the phone with such a disappointment
that one would think that it would never be picked up again. His
dilated eye could show his love being dissolved in tears of rejection.
The flame in his heart began to flicker.. a dull gloom settled over
him. Why? was the question killing him. He crept under the cozy and
warm bed sheet over his bed... with eyes wide open, he tried to sleep...

One never knows how to start, but as soon as he begins somewhere, the flow continues.
It was the longest night of his life. He thought the time piece had been tampered to run slow. The more he tried not to think about what had happened, the more the reality began to hit him. Was it a dream? did she really reject me? why did she do that? In what way am i not lovable?
aaah... why should she love me? it is her own right, her own freedom... come on sleep.... Unfortunately the former thoughts easily over-rood the later. Finally, before he could think of anything else, he fell asleep....

It was college the next day and there he came. A smile upon his face. He sat down for the class. She came in too... what? she here? Am i dreaming? He rubbed his eyes... then she changed into the professor! There was heavy breathing. I looked upon him and saw the shattered visage of my dear friend. Was he the same dear fellow who used to jump up all the way to college? I knew, i was losing him....

She said no da... what? i screamed in disbelief. i could see tears trying to break the membrane of his eyes...
dont worry da... she will come around.....

It is a common saying that time heals. Time does heal fissures on the earth, but fissures on the heart is impossible. May be it would heal, but not without severe scarring and that scare is enough to bring back the memories you wanted to wipe out.
The more you think you want to forget about it, the more you will keep thinking about it. He wanted to forget her. That was his first impulse. The more he tried, the more her images came to her mind…her smile, her innocent face, her eyes, her talk in his ears and all the time he found himself in her imaginative company. All night he would just be awake, thinking about her. He began to lose weight. Each morsel of food went down reluctantly down his throat. The sweetest music did not appeal to him anymore. The beautiful sunset looked lifeless. The cool breeze that blew, always spurred dust into his eyes… why ? He thought. Why did I meet her. Why did I see her? This question began to kill him.
Lifeless days passed, time was not the medicine for him. He had put extra holes in his belt to hold up his jeans and his lunch box was emptied by his friends. He managed to convince his friends that his change was due to excessive preparation for the entrance examinations and since he was brilliant in class, they didn’t mind him. True, the only thing that kept him going was the subject. He loved it. He had an uncanning ability for mechanisms and maintained his top position easily in class.
I was noticing him. He need not tell me. Sometimes you need not have a genius to solve things, just a friend. I tried uplifting his spirits. We talked hours together about her. He was very strong on her. It is just her, no one else.
He could contain himself no longer again. He called her….” Is this 9….., am I speaking to …” “ hey! How are you? Y no calls “ “ how is college…” She was friendly… After a long time, he smiled…..

Analysis is important. A problem remains a problem when it is not analyzed. A problem solved without analysis, remains only temporarily solved. It is just matter of time that it crops up again. So, he analysed... analysed his thoughts. He thought hard, was he really in love. What is love? He couldnt figure out that love was something different from what he was experiencing. He felt that each and every cell in his body was focused only on her and his veins carried not only blood but also his love for her...and therefore he concluded, he did love her.

" hey... so, tell me how are things moving".. "yeah going on.. my dog was very ill, i am upset over that..and moreover my parrot died..." "oh! sorry to hear that..." "that is all right. so, tell me, how is your prep for entrance exams going on.."

He spoke on for a very long time. He was elated. He felt a new energy within him and he took the decision. I will have her.

"hey, you are my friend right.?!!" "of course i am..y ask this suddenly?" " No.. i need a small help from you" "sure sure...tell me" "well, i proposed to a girl last week and she said no. i am still crazy about her. tell me what should i do " There was silence. A long silence...and then she spoke..." err.. hey .. i dont know.." " hey, come on, you told me you would help me!!"

And so it began with her, he started to share his feelings. And she was a wonderful listener. He spoke for hours and she listened on. He shared everything he had with her..his deepest fears, his ambitions, his emotions and his love. She spoke too, first with reluctance, then with confidence. She shared with him, lesser known things about her.

He had a quiz organised at his college, in which she had to take part ( it was the day i saw her!!). He was preparing questions for that. The previous night, he spoke with her about her passions...and the next day, he set a question about that in the quiz!!! and she thought that he was hinting her about the questions!!

He was soaring up again. His constant conversations with her made him confident. Though she did not hint anything towards a relationship, his love for her strengthened. His renewed energy was strikingly visible. He would sing during class hours and dance in the labs! We felt we were getting him back again....

Women, Natures reflection

2005-10-11T21:58:00.000+05:30

WOMEN NATURES REFLECTION

The breeze hit my face
The fragrance of the evening melted in,
The shade of the sky,
Crimson sun sinking in glory.
Birds in formations, their young
twittering, a few stars twinkling.
There she came,
Silhouetted against these,
Yet the radiance emitted,
Divine azure in her eyes,
Graceful strides, anklets
Singing her glory.
Ye, look upon!
The embodiment of purity,
Chastity, love and mercy.
Oh! Nature's reflection !

Under the same tree

2005-10-11T17:52:00.000+05:30

Under the same tree

It was under the same tree
The days of youth, carefree
Hours of fun, right under the scorching sun
What was there to fear, with many near and dear
A craze inflicting aura, dangerously contagious,
All books lay forgotten, the fun voracious.
It was under the same tree
The bond developed, defying differences
It was under the same tree
Egos clashed, then dissolved
It was under the same tree
dreams became reality, lived through words.....
Rain or storm, it stood, just like us
Rooted from deep within, togetherness
like birds we were, seeking shelter
And the day came, when we needed to part
flew we did, fortunes sought
Under the same tree
I sit now, thinking deep
Would we all flock again, under the same tree……