Life's Onward Journey...

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....

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 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

It has been 3 long years since you left us. Memories of those years spent together, the fights, the badminton matches, or just a stroll around the colony park... I remember all of them. I remember how you looked when we first met and what wrong impression I had of you. It was only after knowing you that I understood what you actually were and why people said the opposite about you. You made an impact on me in those growing years. You were my ideal, you still are. I remember the moments when you cried for me, sometimes with me. I knew you felt my pain. That's rare. I remember the last time we met. You were on the way back to Hyderabad, and the train was supposed to go via Kanpur. You insisted that we come to the station to meet you. We came. The train had already arrived. And you were standing on the platform. Tall as you were, I saw you from a distance and waved. You hugged me. For the 10 minutes that we were together, your hands rested on my right shoulder, firmly. And my hand aro...

Going home after a year. Before that i will be spending some time at JNU with few of my friends and seniors. I m excited about so many things. Traveling (i love all comfortable modes of transport). Meeting old friends after 2 years. Meeting family. Somehow i m getting this feeling that it's not meeting people which i m excited about. I m more eager to be at the place where i stayed 4 years back. Woh tedhe medhe raaste, woh pathreeli pagdandi, woh dhaaba, woh seedhiyan, aur woh mera kamra, chhota magar pyaara sa... Nostalgia. Why m i thinking about those inanimate things? May be i expect that they would not have changed as much as i have changed in all these years. People change. But do places also change (in absence of any physical re-construction)? Will i get the same emotions when i reach there? Less likely, but let me see. I hope this short vacation does any good to me. I hope i come back with a few good memories.

I had been asked by my guide to design a set of primers to amplify a portion of TLR7. The primers should contain a suitable restriction site apart from meeting all the basic requirements. The job hardly seems tough to me now, but in my second year of M.Sc. when I first got a taste of research, it made me think a little. One of those days, I was climbing down the stairs of SLS (School of Life Sciences), completely frustrated as internet server was down. I could hear two of my seniors, Faisal and Sanjay, coming behind me but I decided not to turn back as I didn’t feel like talking to anybody. And more because I wanted to avoid talking to Faisal Sir, (I used to call him ‘Sir’ since he was 4-5 years senior to me) who was famous for his cheerful nature, and used to tease me for several things. But my attempts to escape turned out to be futile as he called out my name. I ignored at first, but then decided to stop. Both he and Sanjay joined me and Faisal sir asked why was I running away. I to...