The Deep Cut

What shit! Don't tell me these puny looking, fragile, 11-year old kids are living alone, without their parents, in a crazily- disciplined hostel, run by saffron-donned monks? Seemingly yes, they are. And what's worse? Even we have lived like that in our times. Sorry, but I can digest this piece of self-rediscovery, only because I've been through it.. I visited my older school, one with the hostel, after about 5 years. 6 years after passing out, as an alumni. It was a strange feeling, as I had gone on a guardian meeting day - the only specified Sundays, when parents are allowed to see their wards. Standing on the other side of the fence, I realized how eagerly the kids on the other side were waiting to meet their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts or other local guardians. The eagerness was depressing and sad. Suman tried to steer the feeling to that of being funny, by pointing out to a weird, baby-faced, bespectacled kid , musing, 'If that kid sudde

Not many of you may still be bathroom singers now. But nearly all of you would have been bathroom dancers as kids. Am I wrong? No, I'm not including you here, Mr. ultra-nerd kid! You were, perhaps, thinking how dense the liquid (called water) is, over your brain, which is actually denser! What all you did in the bathroom, tell me.. as a kid, and an innocent one at that! Like my Mama's son here.. innocent, taking bath in the ultra-huge bathtub! Whenever we went to Jhansi, me and my cousin brother Anshu used to plead my dad to get the thing - I dunno what to call it - the container with the atomizing sprayer coming out of it from one side, used to water the plants - a shower kind, for the veggies. A flower-shower. Veggie-shower. Yes, that. To fill it with water and pour on us. It was a time, when there was no regular water-supply available in the dry, water-starved Bundelkhand region. The city of Jhansi, included. And thus having a shower in the bathroom would ha

What, in the name of Ma Durga, is WRONG with the Indian media! After a long time, today I felt very angry at the Indian news channels, nearly all of them, and how they covered the felicitation of the Team Kolkata Knight Riders, CM Mamata Banerjee's antics and the overkill of a joyous celebration here in Kolkata, the most frenzied city on earth. ... My day had been busy.. Early in the day, I went to see off my sister at the railway station, as she left for Bangalore, for some internship (read suspected rave partying with her crazy friends). On the way, I met with a tsunami of people swept off their feet, yet somehow moving along with the shifty flow, swooping up towards the Eden Gardens - And here I'd like to declare, off-context, that this cricket ground has to be among the world's top 3 grounds ever, along with Lord's and MCC. The taxi driver wasn't impressed one bit as a kid in a faded purple jersey climbed on top his bonnet from one side and clim

Here I am, on my way to home, updating my blog from the train. Such a dedicated blogger that I am! My journey, yet again, sucks - this time more than anytime. Considering, even the last time, on my way to Mumbai, the one I mentioned in 'This Post!'  Dad had given me an option of flying home, which I turned down (much to the disappointment of the hassle-shunning half of my Indian soul) as I hate flying. I had booked 2 tickets in a Volvo AC Bus, from Vellore to Chennai. And much to my fears for the tragic developments about to unfold, the bus was packed! Already? ‘Anna, I‘ve booked seats 17 and 18 on this bus, it’s the 4 o’ clock Volvo right?’ He seemed to get heavily perturbed by my queries - 2 in tandem - one, asking if it’s the 4 o’ clock Volvo and two, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY BOOKINGS ON SEATS 17 AND 18!! Gave me a look, a killer one at that, then hurled a mouthful of harsh-sounding words in the bent, crooked language of Tamil. (Sorry, 4 years onwards,

I'm writing this while looking up at the semester end exams, which is by the way, laughing back at me, prowling alongside the guillotine.. Well, what to say, I'm in terrible hurry to write this off (for I cannot help, NOT to update this regularly!) so dear readers, please understand.. Y'all must've undergone this moment sometime in your life, the one I mentioned in the very first line of this post? Exam fever! Yes, its difficult to digest that the days of semester 7 are done being counted. But well, it has had its moments.. So, lately what have I been doing, apart from this bloody Neurobiology thing, that is? I've been playing outdoors, a lot! And following IPL, 2 lots! And socializing with new friends, 3 lots! Its cricket season in India (and I'd like to find the guy who did that - nominating summer as the cricket season overthrowing the earlier one, winter - and no, name someone apart from the now-bankrupt ex-Man of IPL, he's suffered enoug

We discovered the Law of Parsimony together and ventured further into Systematics (its a pity Systems Biology isn't getting introduced next sem..), so anyway, Divya, this one is for you. And for all the others, yes, surprise surprise! I'm here to talk about philosophy, logic or the word that matters to you most  - study - yes, I'm here to talk about something related to studies. For a change.. William of Ockham William of Ockham (or Occam, as I've always known..) was an English Franciscan philosopher - a friar - who is believed to have been born in Ockham, a small village in Surrey. He is considered to be one of the major figures of medieval thought and was at the centre of the major intellectual and political controversies of the 14th century. He is believed to have given a particular form of philosophy or principle which is widely used in logic/physics/theology and as we've seen, in biology/medicine too. It is often summarized as - 'Other

Aah! PEACE!! The entire hullabaloo about the Bong New Year has come to an end at last.. The one good thing about it will have to be my swift retreat to 'my-kind-of-music!' - Poets of the Fall, Chris Cornell and Beatles ruled my Tuesday. Trying to get Fossils out of my head ASAP as I just cannot stand the weirdness that Rupam Islam bestows upon the contemporary Bong population. However, some songs are indeed good, if sung normally, like the one we performed - Hasnuhana - Oh! and how the people danced and hooted for us.. \m/ The event was great, considering the general audience liked it. However we, being the organizers, know the various faces of it and whom we'd like to skin alive and whom we'd like to ask out for free lunch and stuffs along the same lines.. At one such moment when I was fuming at somebody who maybe didn't even matter on the entirety, a small blitz of yellow ran past me, thus spilling my Juice   on me  (that for some reason I had decide