Life's Onward Journey...

Let thy love play upon my voice, and rest on my silence. Let it pass through my heart into all my movements. Let it shine like stars shine in the darkness of my sleep, and dawn in my awakening. Let thy love... This was my favourite hymn in school. The composition which we were taught by Sister Coletta was very "happiness inducing". I still sing it when I am feeling low. Reminds me of old days and also cheers me up. The year is coming to an end. Last year at the same time I was wishing for all the negativities to disappear from my life in the new year. After a bad 2007, I so wished for a change. 2008 provided no respite. Neither on personal front nor in general. This is Moshe, son of the Rabbi who was killed at Nariman house during the terror attacks. He is just one of the orphans created by the acts of terrorism in the last year. The more I think about it, the more it disturbs me. Those who are indulging in such violent acts in the name of God or religion, have never known

I had been waiting for long to write this special post. However, I had not decided what will be the content of this post. I wanted to write something which I have not written before. But then I didn't get enough time to put in more thought. So, I decided to write about my blog on my blog. I came to know about blogging from my friend K2. She was a regular blogger and I loved reading her. One day I was remembering another friend of mine who is no more amongst us and I decided to express my thoughts in words and the result was this post . My second post was about the first love story of my life. Then I started writing about a subject which I love the most-"Movies". I am a complete movie-buff and all those around me can vouch for this fact. The first movie review i wrote was for 'Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna'. It became the most popular post on my blog but I deleted it sometime earlier this year. With the post all the 'fantastic' comments were also lost. I regret do

Finally there is something which i am beginning to like about Ghajini . It's the song "Kaise mujhe tum mil gayin, qismat pe aaye na yaqeen..." The lyrics are not great but the tune is very sweet and has a certain kind of calmness. And the picturization seems to be good. It shows Aamir Khan in a pensive mood, going away from Asin (no idea about the situation), he first takes an auto, then is seen in a car, getting down at the international airport and then is seen sitting in a chartered plane which finally the takes off.... It reminds me of the similar scene in the "Tanhaai" song from Dil Chahta Hai . The way things are moving, mostly I won't be able to watch the first show of Ghajini. Will try to catch the movie on the first day or the latest by the first week :(. My record of several years is going to break... :( Picture courtesy: aamirkhan.com

http://www.johnclearygallery.com/pics/smith/couple.jpg The other day I was talking to a friend of mine and the topic of discussion changed to "Marriage". This friend of mine is very different from me and he often introduces me to alternative perspectives. The good thing about him is that he doesn't impose his point of view on me (sometimes he does that with other people though). We talk peacefully, he speaks his mind and I speak mine. I was telling him how much I am scared of getting married to a 'wrong' kind of person. By wrong I meant a person with a personality conflicting to mine. e.g. I like movies and he is a movie-hater. I like to be organized and keep my workplace and home clean and he turns out to be a person enjoying the mess around him. There can be different kinds of mismatches on different levels of personality and I won't name them here. I can't live with and share my life with a person who is so different from me. Actually "different&q

The End of Innocence is not an extraordinary story but it is worth a read. One of the negative points of this book is its similarity to Bapsi Sidhwa's Ice Candy Man . I have not read Sidhwa's book, however I have seen 1947-Earth which is based on it. The theme of both the books is similar. A child sharing space with the adults and trying to understand the world of grown-ups. In the End of Innocence Laila is the 9 year old girl who reads Enid Blyton and wants to 'solve a mystery' like the Five Find-outers. She has dreams of a child but wants to grow-up fast so that she can talk like one of the adults around her. She finds a friend in Rani, who is 6 years older than her. Rani, a teenager, has a different world. She dreams of falling in love and getting married. She shares her feelings with Laila who is too young to understand it wholly but still she acts like a good listener and poses to be excited in front of Rani. But the truth is that she does not understand the gra

I went for this movie with zero-expectation just to watch SRK after a long interval of more than a year and I didn't get disappointed. Seriously, it is a very ordinary movie which takes up an age-old idea (of arranged marriage) and adds all kinds of 'spices' and SRK to it just to cater to a very specific kind of audience, which includes SRK fans and YRF loyals or time-pass movie goers. Surinder Sahni cannot be 'one' single man. There are many contradictions within this character. The man leads a dull, boring, monotonous life with his yellow suitcase, yellow tiffin, yellow car and a yellow bed sheet... (i might have missed other yellow objects around him). And he accepts the fact that he is indeed a boring person. Now, he decides to change his personality just to surprise his young, vibrant, newly-wedded wife. He turns himself into the "movie-hero" who makes his Taani ji smile. The surprising part is that he looks extremely comfortable in this new transfo

I was going through the current issue of Science journal and got stuck on this article. The article is " The spreading of disorder " by Keizer et al. This article discusses the spread of disorder and criminal behaviour in surroundings which are already marked by signs of pre-existing disorder in the form of litter, graffiti etc. A theory known as "Broken Window Theory" was given by Wilson and Kelling in 1982. According to this theory signs of disorder induce more disorder and petty crimes. This theory is controversial since it still has to be proved (i guess mathematical proof or something like that). Although there is a report that when in early 90s New York city was cleared of such signs of disorder, the crime in the city underwent a sudden drop. (Quite interesting!!!) The authors of this paper carried out 6 different experiments on unsuspecting normal crowd and found that people do litter more when they observe some sort of disorder or a law broken around them

My school SLS Now I am on this side of the door... (still i sneaked in with the help of my friend) The lab and the bench where some degraded RNA was isolated followed by some weeping followed by a trip to canteen with the seniors who pampered me. The 3rd floor corridor which I identify with an eversmiling face gesturing me to enter the classroom and stop loitering around The classroom and the hangout place in between the lectures. The stop for frequent chit-chat Gateway to the university "The Administrative block" (reminds me of the first day) The bus stop where hours were spent not waiting for the bus. I remember this was the place where a feeling of being alone in the big bad world first came to me after my dad left for home leaving me alone after the first few days of settling down. Sabarmati Dhaba. The refuge for a cup of tea and a mouthful of pakodas. The road which goes to Tapti. Don't know how many times this road was crossed everyday.

The day came and went but not like any other day. I was on my toes the whole day. A lot work needed to be done. I had to work on my manuscript, finish my experiment, pack my bags and catch a train. And in between there were phone calls from friends (many of them call me only once a year and i do the same). There was a lot to talk to but i didn't have time. A childhood friend got irritated when i told her that i will call her on tuesday (instead of saying i will call you in a couple of minutes). It took a while to pacify her. I will be dead if i don't call her up tomorrow. I reached station 15 mins before the departure time (that was an achievement). I really love traveling by train. Most of the time when i am going out-of-station for a vacation or for professional reasons, the 'high point' of the trip is the train-journey. Will write something about it sometime soon. But this particular time, i was unhappy because of one reason. Many of my friends could not wish me sinc

A new week began today. A new week after the recent happenings. I had decided 2 days back only that I will be going to Colaba today. I had some "genuine work" around the Taj area, Fort and Kaala Ghoda. I didn't want to delay it for later as it was important for me to see that the place is back to normal and that there are no army men and NSGs moving around, as we saw the whole of last week. As I approached Regal from Cuffe Parade I became happy to see that there were many school kids on the street. The Colaba Causeway looked just the same, as if nothing had happened. I felt even better. I took the road adjacent to Cafe Mondegar, which goes towards the Taj and i noticed that the road was blocked and there was heavy security beyond Curio Cottage. I had to go to the bank (which is a few metres from there) so i requested the security person and he allowed me to go. There were several others who were stopped at that point. I looked back to see who these people were. There were

Slept at an earthly hour last night (after a long time), but woke up because of some loud sound and then could not go back to sleep. Also i have been getting scary dreams since last 2-3 days. I remember I used to get scared of thunderstorms (I still do) and message my friends in hostel "Darr lag raha hai" and one of them used to come to my room or i shifted to their room and sleep. Remember Monika :) It sounded very funny when I told them that thunder makes me feel as if a war is going on and that people are getting killed. And now when something like that has actually happened I am very disturbed. I can still go and sleep in my buddy's room or call her here...but i don't want to do that. I want to fight this feeling. I wished I was a child who cuddles to its mother and feels completely secure... Arms around me, a slow pat on the back, a beating heart and flow of breath of a live person near me... and then fall asleep. Thank God that when it is night here, there is da

We (my buddy and me) stayed up whole night, glued to the tv set, surfing all the news channels to catch any new update. Finally sometime before 9am the NSG and the other police force were seen casually strolling with mobile phones in there hands and a smile on there face. Operation Cyclone at the Taj was finally over with the last of the terrorists being gunned down (hopefully the last one). But it has left several wounds which will never heal or will take a long time to heal. The young Major Unnikrishnan, the Rabbi's orphan infant, ATS chief Hemant Karkare, encounter specialist Salaskar, young Gautam (a trainee at Taj)... all these faces will be difficult to forget. And many memories of times spent with friends all over the area which is covered with rubble and blood now... I remember... the first treat i gave to my friends from my own money was at Leopold Cafe. sitting on the cemented seat at the gate way and counting the number of floors in the new Taj Hotel. strolling in the Ta

It is going to be 24 hours since it all started a few kilometers from here. Half an hour back I went to the sea face just to have a look at the city skyline... whether it looked any different. It didn't. The lights at the governor's house, malabar hill and marine drive looked the same at least from this distance. It looked like any other evening. But it isn't the same. Last night around 10:30 pm, I was flipping through the pages of Bombay Times to see if there is a late night show of any decent movie aroung south bombay. I was wondering whether i should go to INOX (nariman point) or Metro Adlabs. The shows at both these places were just 15 mins apart and i was still deciding when a friend called up and asked me to switch on the tv. As i was talking to him, i could hear loud noises which seemed like thunder (or blasts) and finally when i set the tv at NDTV, i saw the visuals from Leopold cafe. Speechless... At that time it wasn't clear as to what actually happened. Initi

More than 10 years have passed without speaking about him. I have maintained contact with only few others who know him. And with those few people, i never initiated talking about him. Because it pains... Last week I got in touch with a very old and dear friend from school. We were great buddies back then ( more than 16 years back). Somehow we lost touch and couldn't get back to each other after passing out from school. The first time we spoke, he mentioned G. I was dreading that moment. I dont like talking about G. I get reminded of everything and then it becomes really difficult to push it at the back of mind. But this time i didn't feel that sad. And the reason was that i was talking to somebody who was as close or may be more close to G than me. Still i just chose to stay quite and listen to what my friend had to say. We talked about school and many memories. Memory of G is becoming fresh now. He was one of the most brilliant students (very good at Mathematics) of our class.

I wish I didn't have to answer these questions... not now at least. What are your future plans? (A vague trick question. It might mean either of the following 3) When are you defending your thesis? (This one is not very bad, but irritates me when i am not in a good mood) When are you planning to get married? (I thought that at least one more person is required for this one...Right? I can't see anybody around. Sorry.) What are you going to do after your PhD? (It is none of your business!) I remember the year I could not get through the All India MSc entrance exams and i stayed at home doing some random things like preparing for Bank P.O. exams, reading Pratiyogita Darpan , making 1 and a half paintings and just doing household chores. In between all this i also prepared for the next year's entrance examinations. There was this particular Mallu Uncle who stayed near our home. Often he used to see me either watering the plants or sweeping the verandah. At such moments, he

The way I have been using my memory space, I am sure it will crash sometime soon. I cannot imagine how it would be... Just in case it happens, you all, my parents, brother and my friends will have to remind me who I was and what was my dream, my aim and the love of my life. Actually all of you will have some or the other special way of doing this job. But let me give you some ideas which might really help and result in quick recovery. Make me watch all Aamir Khan movies in chronological order (please skip Jawani Zindabad, Daulat ki jung, Isi ka naam zindagi and Tum mere ho as it would be a torture for poor me) I remember certain food joints and shops where i used to hang out with my family or friends. Take me to those places and these are a my few of my favourites. Badam milk from Janpriya Dairy, Alambagh, Lucknow. Aloo tikki chat from Moti Mahal, Hazratganj, Lucknow. Cakes and Pastries from Sweet Home, Boring Road, Patna. Emotions, Boring Road Patna. Baigan Bharta and chapati from

Guys, Priyanka Chopra is one good reason to stay 'straight'. :) Dostana is as funny as it was projected to be. Me and my buddy went mad laughing. I don't remember when I had laughed so much. May be either I have lost my mind or my sensibilities are not at the right place. I really enjoyed watching this movie. Abhishek Bachchan (he is the only Bachchan I can tolerate now) had a perfect comic-timing like always. The 'Venice' story was well-narrated and well-acted. You have to see it to believe it. John Abraham was also good in the movie, but the former stole the show (according to me). Certain things were a little far from reality (oh yeah its a Hindi movie, so it should fulfil this criteria). Though both the guys love the same girl, there is hardly any feeling of competition amongst them (except once). May be that was to make the viewers believe in the 'buddy-factor' of the movie. There were some moments when the 3 of them really look like great buddies. A

The fever is back again. The cough is bad too. I realized something. That I become a 'little' more sentimental when I am unwell. Or may be it is estrogen... No, I think its the fever because this is not the first time I am feeling this. I have felt this before . Last night I cried watching Full House . There have been plenty of emotional moments in the series but i have never cried watching it. But when Jesse surprised Rebecca with a special Christmas gift- snow (when it had not snowed) all over the backyard with a cute snowman standing in the center, because for Rebecca Christmas is incomplete without the snow. That was really cute. Because of the cough I am not able to talk a lot. That's the reason for blogging this often. On normal days I would have told this to my buddy and then forgotten about it. Since I am not able to do that, I am expressing here. This is my corner. :) Today I saw 'Pyar ke side effects' finally! I liked the movie very much. Shame on me. I

Okay...it is 7 am and normally I am not awake this early. Last few nights were terrible with coughing and wheezing keeping me awake till this hour. I can feel slight improvement on that front now. So, I was looking forward to a peaceful sleep tonight but I didn't get any. I oiled my hair, then watched a few episodes of 'Full House', then read a few pages of a book and solved a sudoku puzzle (too much!). The last one actually made me feel exhausted so I decided to lie down. At the same moment the sleep vanished and my mind started to wander. These days I keep thinking about my weaknesses and the ways to overcome them. 'There is a lot of room for improvement'. The title of this post is more about that improvement and not about my health. I remember quite a few times when I should have been a little more assertive when decisions about my life, my career were being taken. Not that it has affected me very badly, but things could have been better (may be). I didn't

I am not getting time to blog these days. In a way it is good. I should be concentrating more on my paper and experiments. I am doing that. But blogging is like catching a movie on a weekend or having an ice cream, meaning it is not done everyday, it is not essential but still when done, makes me feel good and rejuvenated. My mind has been quite active for the past 2 weeks or so. I have been reading a lot (both scientific and non-scientific stuff). There are so many things which I want to write about. But if I don't scribble it somewhere, I forget the content and just remember the theme. Once this happens I am too lazy to develop the whole idea again. I finished reading Ismat Chughtai's Kaghazi Hai Pairahan . The book is her autobiography describing her unconventional life as a young muslim woman in the pre-independence era. What I appreciate most in her character is the strength and self-confidence with which she opposed her parents and completed her studies. She had made up

Ghar jaane de, chhod mori bahiyan.... (from the Theme of Fashion) Fashion belongs to Priyanka Chopra. I think it is the first time she has played the main protagonist in a movie and she hasn't disappointed her fans. She should get full points for both her look and her acting. From the naive-small-town-girl to an aspiring-model to an arrogant-supermodel, she has done justice to the character of Meghana Mathur. The movie is like other 'relaistic' Bhandarkar movies where the truth and tragedy behind the glitz and glamor-world has been shown. Some of it has been inspired by real-life incidences (like the Carol Gracias wardrobe-malfunction and the life of Geetanjali Nagpal). Kangana Ranaut fits such roles. She is fine in the movie (except the innumerable times when she expresses her feelings for her boyfriend by calling him b*****d). Mugdha Godse has done a good job too. The movie has just too many eye-candies for men and sadly not for us women. If it was not a glimpse of R

This December... ...forget everything. Remember revenge...only. Thats what the first look/trailer of Ghajini says. I was quite excited to see this movie till a few days back. And then i saw Memento. Ghajini (whatever that means) is supposed to be inspired from Memento, which is one of the best movies I have seen so far. And I think it is impossible to make anything that can match it. I am a little apprehensive about Ghajini. I hope AK creates magic once again. His last release, Taare Zameen Par has raised the hopes of all his fans. I hope this one doesn't add to the Mangal Pandeys and Fanaas . 25th December. First show...I will be there. :)

A lamp made by my 'artist' buddy Me and my buddy Me and my piece of art

Organized junk I am just drying them yaar... The table where i hardly sit and study (the flowers have a story though)

I was waiting for my train at Kassel station. It was a sunday evening and the platform was so crowded that I felt as if i was standing at Churchgate station. It was time to say good-bye to Shubha whom I had met after 8 years. We were talking the usual stuff which friends talk at such moments. Call me once you reach. Take care of yourself. Hope we meet again soon... etc. Standing next to us was a couple hugging tightly. The guy was quite tall and well built. I don't remember how he looked. It was the girl's face which caught my attention. It had some weird kind of sadness on it. It disturbed me. They stood still in this pose for as long as they were together. When I told Shubha what I felt she replied saying it is sunday evening and she must be leaving for another city for work/college after spending the weekend with her boyfriend. She added jokingly, that Germans are not as emotional as us Indians and that she will return to her normal self as soon as she hops into the train. S

I turn back to see if they are still following me. They are. Without thinking twice I enter into the first open door I see, desperately trying to hide myself. The small box-like room turns out to be a public toilet. How long will I have to stay in here? I can now hear them approaching. Through a small opening in the door I can see the bearded man enquiring about a girl wearing green dress that is me. I notice that from under the door my feet could be easily seen. I try and climb on the water pipe which runs along the wall. But then I have to bend myself so that nobody can notice my head from over the door. I don't know for how long I stayed in that uncomfortable position. Slowly I open the door and run in the opposite direction. It is not safe to walk in the open street without any guard. After running and walking a good bit of distance I enter into another door. This one is a parlour, a very dirty one, with an open drain running through it. All the seats are occupied. I see some p

"I am the root cause of any problem, mental or physical, suffered by me. And only I can cure myself." I have been thinking deeply about my life experiences, what kind of a person I am and why do I get into difficult situations. I have found a few answers myself with a little help from a friend or two.

Last monsoon I got an umbrella as a gift. Lilac in colour. Foldable to almost-pocket size. But it seemed a little too delicate for the gusty winds coming from the sea-side. I decided that I won't use that umbrella here in Mumbai and kept it safely in my cupboard. I wanted to possess it forever, even if that meant keeping it as a show-piece in my drawing room. One day when somebody had borrowed my other in-use umbrella I had to take this one out. I had hardly walked 50 steps when I saw an accident happening in front of my eyes. A car had hit somebody. Out of shock the grip on my umbrella loosened and I ran towards the site of accident. It was a friend. Luckily she didn't get hurt badly. Next I noticed that my umbrella had flew to a distance. I ran and grabbed it. It was torn. I started cursing myself, "Why did I take it out today?" The new umbrella, now damaged, was kept back in the same cupboard. I got another umbrella towards the end of last monsoon. Thought it would

Bachna Ae Haseeno deals with an issue which means nothing to an activist or an industrialist or an environmentalist or for that matter anybody. It is not even an entertainer. But still it teaches a few lessons. The meaning of love and companionship changes as we age. It is different when you are a 15 year old school going teenager and when you are a 30 year old single. The male protagonist Raj meets 3 women in 12 years and the movie is about his story with each of these women. He breaks the heart of 2 of these women and the third one manages to break the heart of this heart-breaker. It is then that he realizes what he has been doing all his life. May be Mahi and Gayatri were only 2 of the several women he came across. He decides to ask for forgiveness from the two women and manages to do that too. And, somehow magically his goodness is rewarded by a change of heart of the third woman, who runs into his arms and the movie ends with a kiss and a sunset in the background. Quite nice! R

I remember this hymn we used to sing in school. It is very appropriate for this occasion. Where the mind is without fear, and the head is held high. Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake. Where knowledge is free. Into that heaven... Where the world has not been broken up, into fragments by narrow domestic walls. Into that heaven... Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection. Into that heaven of freedom my father, LET MY COUNTRY AWAKE! -Rabindranath Tagore

Ten days and zero posts. What does that mean? Firstly, general frustration and restlessness has decreased a little. So, there was hardly anything to vent out. And secondly, I have been busy with 'real' work this week and didn't get time for blogging. It is not by chance that I am feeling better and focussing on things which need my attention. I managed to grab some inspiration from different sources. One of those is special. I cannot express my gratitude in words. And specially not here on my blog. Thanks A. I will do it! I started working on the document which will end this phase of my life. (No, it is not a suicide note!). Till now I am liking it. It will be my child, my creation... Apart from that, time was spent in some other things too. Went for lunch at a colleagues place. (I love train-travelling sans the crowd). Had a farewell dinner with 2 of my close friends at my favourite place. Saw a movie ( Dus Kahaniyan ) and liked it. 3 of the stories were disappointing. I r

As I am getting older, the memories of childhood are becoming more and more dear to me. There are some bitter memories (which I am not interested in discussing) and there are many sweet memories. I have been reading "Kaghazi hai pairahan", an autobiography of Ismat Chughtai these days. In the current chapter she is visiting her phoophi ( father's sister ). The description of the home and the ambiance reminded me of my grand-father's home at Bhagalpur, Bihar. We used to visit there every year during our summer vacation. Two of my phoophis and chhote abbu (father's brother) used to stay there too. So, in all we were 7 kids. If the timing was good then 2 other cousins from Patna would join us. There were fights as well as fun. I remember once we organized a cultural evening with a short skit and some song and dance too. I don't remember my contribution though. Bhagalpur was a little (actually more than a little) short on electricity. And that compelled all of

दो दिन, दो शहर। बीस से ज़्यादा बम धमाके, कितने घायल हुए? गिनती नहीं। कितने मरे? मालूम नहीं। हाँ ये ज़रूर मालूम है, की मरने वालों की तादाद, अख़बारों में लिखी संख्याओं से कहीं ज़्यादा है। बम लगाने वाले, उनसे मरने वालों से पहले मरे। ग़म है मुझे उन लाशों के पैदा होने का जो बेगुनाह थे, और नफरत है उन लाशों से, जो कफ़न के बाहर जिंदा घूम रही हैं ऐसे हालात पैदा करने के लिए।

The major cytokine which signals helper T cells to proliferate is Interleukin 2 (IL-2). This cytokine is released by helper T cells themselves and these cells also bear the receptors for IL-2. It is remarkable that to some extent, helper T cells themselves control their own proliferation rate. The more IL-2 they produce, more of it binds to their surface and the downstream signaling causes them to proliferate and produce more IL-2. I love Immunology. However, the purpose of writing the above lines was not to give a lesson on T cell biology. The power to drive our lives, lies within ourselves. May be not always, but often. (I should be saying all this to myself.) :) Next time I am feeling low, I will read my own blog for inspiration. I remember discussing with a friend about one of our common friends, " ABC is the person i turn to when i need some advice. He/She makes all my problems seem so small. But, when it comes to dealing with his/her own problems, he/she behaves impu

Dil hai to dhadakne ka bahaana koi dhoonde, Patthar ki tarah behis-o-bejaan sa kyun hai... Kya koi nayi baat nazar aati hai hum mein, Aaina humein dekh kar hairaan sa kyun hai... Seene mein jalan, aankhon mein toofan sa kyun hai. Don't know what is happening to me. Whole of last week I hardly did anything constructive. Oh yes, I spent some time in analysing the data on wednesday and thursday. And on friday i did finish the sketch i had been making since past few days. But still I dont feel enthusiasm in myself. Or may be I have been like this forever. And since I am required to be 'highly motivated' and 'competent' at this juncture of life, I am realizing my own shortcomings. Or may be I am not enthusiastic about the current work and current state of my life. The present is full of disappointments and depression. And there is hardly anything to look forward to. Its high time that I become my own inspiration. How long can one wait for an "external source of insp

Chappa chappa charkha chale Courtyard- Bapu's cottage Khus and a squirrel Sabarmati Ashram Bapu said... The entire group (with me behind the camera) Chalo re doli uthao kahaar... Framed Pair 1: Khus and me Pair 2: Sudarsan and me Pair 3: Kapil and me Pair 4: Binny and me Now, lets all pair up... Kathputliyan... Gujju Thaali...Khao khao Arey itna khaane ko kisne bola tha? To each his own... Vau-Adalaj Kidhar jaana hai bhai? Sarkhej Roza- The corridor ye kya jagah hain doston... Agle janam mohe bitiya hi keejo Who's that girl? Bachcha-log