The Deep Cut

English, the lingua franca of modern world, has definitely done it's share in improving our knowledge of science. But does it also draw a divide and restrict those who do not have access to it? In this post, I'd like to sum up few interesting things  that I've come across, on the topic: numerous POVs, a TED talk , a few scientific letters and a couple of articles, a few lessons in history, but mostly my bit of some loud-mouthed thinking as usual. At the heart of this chain of thought is actually a trivial conversation in my office, where Andrew - who was peering into his laptop otherwise - made a comment on how easy we have it with most research papers being published in English. Me and Stefania chimed in, in agreement. To my knowledge, this group of casual chit-chatters had a cumulative knowledge of at least seven languages: Hindi, Bengali, French, Spanish, Italian, Sanskrit (at least in principle) and of course, English. (But even though we mutually tease each othe

I've had a few realizations in the last few weeks (that's two few use of the word few)! The first realization, is that I have no time to actually sit down and write down things on this blog. And there's also the fact that I almost killed this blog. I downloaded all the data and pulled the plug on it unceremoniously, for a few days. It lost a couple of images (as you'd have noticed already, if you had visited earlier). But anyway, looks like it didn't want to die and just like the most famous zombie of the world, it remained dead for 3 days and woke up to life on the third. It was a Sunday. Happy Easter, everyone! The other realization is that my gaming account got hacked. No big deal, just that after slogging in the lab for awhile, I suddenly inferred that I have not been putting the $59.99 game of FIFA'15 to good use. I should be playing on it, trying to up my Ultimate Team, trying to defeat Brazil playing with India, and trying to beat the crap

A positive result in the lab was all I wanted on the day preceding the opening day of the ICC Cricket World Cup 2015, which for me, was on the day before the Valentine's Day. And boy, the Western Blot didn't disappoint me - a little nerdy moment there. And in the wake of the good result in the lab, I realized that I could suddenly leave earlier than usual. I reached home at 5 and quickly tuned the TV to the streaming of the first game of the tournament. Sri Lanka versus New Zealand. And the first innings of the game was a good example to teach a fellow American (and also the average Indian armchair critic who has never played cricket beyond his own batting in gully cricket ) of how a long format of the game can be exciting and extremely dynamic. The game shifted sides so easily, swaying initially towards the hosts in the beginning and rather extremely, towards the end. While Herath and Lakmal tried to wrench it back in the visitor's favor during the middle overs.

Seriously, who the fuck is Charlie? And why the fuck am I being asked to be him?! I think I'm offended. You want me to say je suis Charlie..  ça me fait chier! The journalists at Charlie Hebdo - cartoonists, artists, media, idealists, provocateurs, obnoxious, anarchists and say what, in some ways -  extremists? As the publication is now being celebrated as heroic, and the slain journalists as martyrs on behalf of the apparent freedom of expression, the whole world rallies behind them in solidarity. One thing is factually clear in everyone's mind: "Cartoonists at Charlie Hebdo published some piece of art, however beautiful or enraging, and that they were brutally murdered for precisely that." Before I actually write about it, I should clarify one thing - there is no speech so hateful, no piece of art so offensive, no tweet so provocative and no music so enraging that it somehow would legitimize or justify the use of violence against them. And it also stands

As you leave the pavilion and walk on to the vast plain spread of bright green that lays in front of you, you suddenly feel the rush of anticipation and excitement that surrounds the minutes before the commencement of a 5 day-long sporting event. You put away your half sweater or jacket to warm up before the game, you do your best to condition yourself somewhere between feeling the sting of a chilly Sunday's morning air and the warmth of the early morning's sun, creeping in through the disappearing mist. As you close the gate behind you and go over the thick white rope that acts as the restrictive boundary of the game, you can't help but start wondering about the various conditions that will covertly govern the rest of the game. Is there a hint of breeze? Which direction is it blowing? Is there an early humidity? Will the sun choose to play little to no effect due to an impending cloud cover thus affecting the red sphere of leather differently than a blazing southern

Yesterday I heard him say my God doesn't exist. Who does he think he is? How dare he? I didn't talk to him yesterday. I walked right past him. He was dead to me. Yesterday he said my God is fake. I stared at him angrily, while he hissed. He should be taught a lesson. I threw a stone at him. By inches, it missed. Yesterday I saw him spit at the name of my God. I lured away his dog. His owner has crossed a line! Till it were dead, I beat him with a log. Yesterday he refused to pray to my God. I burned down his house. Enough has been sought by talks. I kidnapped and raped his spouse. Yesterday he cursed at my God. This time, I took away his daughter. He cried and cried all throughout the day. I raped her, shot her in the head and left her for slaughter. Yesterday I found him weeping to my God. He pleaded for mercy and for his misfortunes to cease. But it wasn't over - I brought out his son. Humiliated him.  Cursed him.

BE ADVISED, CONTAINS SPOILERS. CRAZY BAT SHIT OF THEM! You can tell I was super excited when I learnt that Christopher Nolan has picked up on the idea of black holes and wormholes in his next venture. Unfortunately, he made Inception earlier and ruined everything for me. While Inception was a huge leap in science fiction, it raised the bar for the kind of movies the duo of Christopher and Jonathan Nolan can achieve. Inception was worthy of all the hype it has ever got, because not only was it a brilliant movie, it was also a refreshingly cerebral idea. It was something new. With Inception having set the stage to welcome Interstellar to the movie theatre, it was the sense of expectation that undid everything.  To list a few scientific inaccuracies  (or shall we say) inconsistencies that I personally found with the movie, I would have to start somewhere here: 1. How did the wormhole - the one near Saturn - came to be in the first place? It takes an enormous mass to