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Friday, February 27, 2009

all in a day's work(part 1)

(this a multi series short story.
:) paradox,eh? bear with me till i finish publishing it on my blog. all of it together is too long.
and trying on the patience. hope i can build some excitement here,by dividing it into parts. so here version of a fairytale...)

The young bespectacled man climbed up the stairs to his terrace, with a flask of coffee for company, to start his work. Well, his work was star gazing; when the entire world on his side of the hemisphere slept he gazed at these twinkling beings.
Well, meet Ajay; he is a physics student at the local university finishing his masters in astrophysics. He sure wants to pursue his doctorate, but as per his passionate nature, he does not want to just do it for the sake of it. He wants to research on something new and groundbreaking. I sometimes donot understand, how I am supposed to allow these stars in the sky to help him break grounds? Hmmm..Nonetheless.he has being at this for some years now, seeking inspiration from my twinkling employees. And I feel he has also noticed something which just may be his starbreaking..eerr..Backbreaking..Sorry, groundbreaking research.

Then I guess, it is time to set certain things in motion. Certain lives are to be changed, I better start my work. let me check..hmm..yes..employee of the day is Atreyi.well well,she is the star which contains the river of glory. it is her time to go to this particular town near the sea,where certain people await certain things unknowingly, let us watch the fun, come accompany me.

Little dhruv sat saying his night prayers before going to bed. he was waiting for his mother to come and tuck him in when he saw this beautiful lady descending from the silken night sky outside his window. He ran towards the window and craned his neck out in time to see her dive into the sea.
"Dhruv,it is time for bed,sweetheart.”
“Mom,a shining lady dived into the sea from the sky.”
“yea,you just saw a shooting star,baby.”
“no,she was lady star,I swear.”
The tired mother(as it seems to be the case with humans nowadays..they just miss all the beauty around them.) hurriedly tucked her baby in the bed,kissed him goodnight and said,
“hush now,my child,you have been seeing too many fantasy movies. Now go to sleep and dream away your imagination.sleep tight,my love.”
She switched off the light.

Atreyi settled comfortably in the ocean bed. she had booked her room in the oyster suite. Lovely pearls adorned he room and she lay comfortably inside the oyster. Well,her work would start in a few hours.she as well as rest now.

The day dawned bright and clear in this medium sized coastal town with a normal population of normal people living a normal life.
today let us look into the lives of a few,what do you say,mate?

Monday, February 23, 2009

my first award!!!

well, we are...hardly a month into blogging..and i get my first award.....

though..i hold the person who gave me this award in very high regard...i always feel he spoils me rotten..but..i dont mind at all!!i enjoy being pampered and told that "i am good". :)

well,this award comes with a few rules and obligations to be followed and fulfilled. and to be honest this is the first award in my life which has a profanity inscribed in it...sheesh!! i cant afford to show it to my parents..:( greedy for here goes....


a. Put the image on your blog

b. List 10 truths about yourself

c. Give the award to 3 other people (i can afford only 3.)

d. Provide meaningful quotation

here is the image..with the profanity which is supposed to make me feel "faaaabbbbuuuulllooouuusss".(by d way image says "f*****g fabulous blog"-inverted)

well..for the first time...the great F feels good..(\m/)

moving on to less offensive stuff. ten truths. well,this will be fun,indeed.

1. i can live on a diet of books. i have intensive training in

a.reading superfast and still making sense of it.

b.reading superfast and shutting the sense system of my brain.

c. reading because it gives me a high(a horrible addiction which i have no intention of getting rid off)

d. reading for survival and maintenance of sanity.(this happens generally when i crave for the warmth of just seeing alphabets coming together and making words and words coming together to make sentences. pure bliss!

atleast when nothing makes sense in this world,always come back to the basics,something always does make sense )

if anyone is interested in getting trained they can contact me.

2. though most of the time i prefer people of my same wavelength or just myself as company,there are times i am a misanthropist and blindly hate human company.( i prefer dogs,cats and sparrows at this time. anything which understands silence or atleast pretends to understand.)

3.i have an alter ego of a gypsy and a vampire. as a gypsy i am a healer. as a vampire am a traveller,that is i travel between realms,all around the world,between galaxies.just about anywhere.

4.i find mud wrestling soul cleansing. well,no..that doesnot mean i aspire to be a mud wrestler(though,with recession and all,i need to have career options). it is just that,i feel good,rejuvenated and at peace when i get sweaty and dirty while gardening,building sand castles or just making plain mud ladoos.

5. i am a die hard,self proclaimed Ayn Rand fan. by this,i donot mean i follow all her principles,but if i could it would be ideal. by the way, 'Who is John Galt?'

6. i am vain to some extent as i suppose most of us are. there is only one situation where i donot care for my vanity.and that is-i donot mind swimming for hours in the sea or any pool on any given sunny afternoon. i donot mind living with the tan or sunburn.

7.abstract concepts touch me more than human emotions.. any great architecture,painting,music or book can move me to tears. it is much harder for me when faced with human contemporaries.

8. i believe U2 to be my soulband(as in soulmates,soul sisters,etc). this is based on the fact that they have a song for every mood of mine and i discover it only when i need to.

9. i love working out. there is nothing more frustration relieving than pushing your body to the limits and coming out sweaty and successful. there is nothing more stable and steady than the feel of iron rods in your hands. and there is nothing to beat the moment when you feel your muscles work beneath your fingers-one of the moments when u know the plain,primitive meaning of "being alive."

10. i would love to be a farmer and own a horse ranch. i would love a life where i am connected to the soil and my feet are firmly planted on the earth. and when i feel the need to tame the world, i would love to ride the wind on the back of my beloved horse.

i am sure,at times that i suffer from voluntary multiple personality disorder(you will find that this terminology exists only in my medical journal).

thats about all the truths about myself i could think of.

as for the 3 people whom i am going to give this award to are....(tadaaaaaa....)

1. sam sam- go pour your heart out,girl!

2.kinshuk- lets get some 'intense'truths, young man!

3. karthik- for once ,write something original,YOURSELF!

meaningful quote:

“When I die, I hope to go to Heaven, whatever the Hell that is.”

(any guesses. who wrote this?)

i guess,i have done my duty. and thanks to the person who gave me this award. he is my mentor where blogging is concerned and never a more content man walked this earth(well, he had threatened to sue me if i didnot write this).i would also like to thank "shonai"(she knows for what). and all my blogreaders[i hope noone forces you to do so.(you guys better read ..or else)]

i hope you guys enjoyed this..and never use any of my truths against me(for eg: just because i love soil doesnt mean you guys can greet me by throwing mudballs on me.or just because i am a vampire nocturnally,doesnot mean that you offer me a tumbler of blood when i come to your place.)


Thursday, February 19, 2009

the day it finally rained....

she stood staring out of the window. a body trapped in the four confines of her room. a soul trapped in the myriad confines of the society.

it was her wedding day. she could hear bits and pieces of voices,shouting orders,laughing,playing music, all around her,from her house and courtyard. people were on a constant move in her house,preparations for the wedding.the auspicious hour for the wedding was at night. evening was beginning to gather. she had these blessed few hours before the ladyfolk came to dress her in her bridal finery.

she had long accepted the fact that he would never come back. long accepted the feeling of something left incomplete. long accepted the shattering of the illusion that love was enough to live. accepted it all as a part of growing up. but,today's evening was different. today she would shed her old life for a new the companion of a man,who everyone told her was the best for her.a man who would give her love,security and comfort. a man she respected and cared enough to spend her life with.

at this juncture in her life,she didnot want to face memories of a distant time. time spent staring out of the same window,listening to the voice of the boy she loved,as he practised singing with his master.time spent submerged in the bliss of his rich voice,flying with him to the places his voice was taking her,aching for him as his master scolded him,giving him company as he spent hours practising,sharing his dreams of becoming a singer,shyly telling her dream of becoming his forever.

in this small town,under silken skies their love was born,from the moment she was born.all through her life she remembered him.she was always connected to him at some subconscious level.she could feel his hurt,his pain,his joy and she could read his thoughts. so could he,with her. she believed it was because he had been with her mother all through her pregnancy. her father had to go on a year long project abroad. he had appointed a maid to be with her mother all the time. the maid brought along her son. he was the son,the one with the beautiful voice.her mother had told her about how he used to sing,exceptionally well for a 5 year old,whenever she felt like relaxing.

thinking back on her mother's words,she believed she had had very little choice but to fall for the voice which used to sing to her even before she saw the world. a voice which reminded her of her mother's womb;a sheltered world.

all through her childhood,she had tagged behind him. he ;with the soothing voice and gentle manner. she had always thought she would always tag behind him,all through her life.
innocent minds and hearts;innocent dreams.

she remembered a time, a lazy afternoon,lolling off to sleep,she felt a sharp pain in her left jaw.
she knew immediately,he was hurt. running out she saw him on the ground,his left cheek bleeding. he had been coming home;he had tripped and fallen.

such had been their relationship.
at the twentieth year of her life,one sunny morning, he left town. he was never seen again. where he had gone,why he had gone,noone knew.

she had waited,hoped and cried,for a word. hoped that his voice had found its fortune and he would come and claim her;his destiny.

3 years had passed,her parents had allowed her ,her mourning time. mourning for a love which would never die.

with time,the rawness of her hurt faded,but the wounds remained.the intensity of her feelings were cloaked,but it stabbed her from time to time. a chapter which never had an appropriate ending.

she was broken from her reverie as thunder boomed from the mountains at a distance. it was the rainy season. she stepped out into the open verandah. across the street,a young boy started humming a folk song.

from the guarded chambers of her heart,a tiny tear made way down her lashes,making way for the flood thereafter. the heavens opened simultaneously. she looked up as tears rolled down her eyes,crying for whatever was lost and whatever was stolen by time and fate. she spread her hand and drenched herself with the sky's tears as her tears fell on the earth.

a soul searching for solace from past memories. the rain lashed away at her.


Miles away ,separated by land and sea, in an arid desert,at an excavation site, a man looked towards the heaven. on a bright and sunny day,he felt the sting of thousands of raindrops.

he touched his face and found his cheeks wet with tears.

turning towards the heavens, he started singing- a tune of heartbreak and hurt,a song of love lost to fate and time, a song meant to soothe away at the pain which gathers in a soul due to unanswered questions. a song meant to remind someone of the peace and safety of a mother's womb.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

all the definitions of "making love."

well,in the times when love,pink chaddis and ram sena colour the air, lets take a look at our definitions of "love", well,somewhere i have read you can never define love accurately,but still after all lets try our hand at some romantic mush mush.

i was listening to a Bob Dylan song,"just like a woman",when these lyrics caught my ear,

She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does

And she aches just like a woman

But she breaks just like a little girl.

it is a sweet,aching song....and am discovering my love for Dylan's heartbreaking voice and etching lyrics.

and it got me thinking about "making love." apart from the rosy,M&B definition of it, lets look at it as "cooking" up the recipe of love in you,and as it slowly spreads its subtle but overwhelming flavour around. not just plain erotica but a bit beyond,around and before it. :)

i will start with a couple of instances.....

1. when she sees you walking towards her,the pride,happiness and radiance she feels in her and which uplifts her lips into a broad smile,isnt just a simple is MAKING love.

2. when she holds your hand when you are hurt or sad, and offers you her gift of sympathy,it isnt pity ,she too aches for is MAKING love.

3. when she does things which donot hold her interest but is a passion for you,she isnot trying to impress you,she just loves you too much and wants to spend time with is MAKING love.

well,thats a few,but not enough.

please send in your definitions in my comment section and i will go on publishing it in this blog under your name. let your imagination and love flow....and "cook up" some recipes for "making love."
use any pronoun u wish to instead of "she" can be "he","i",any name.......

awaiting your responses.



how bout this for love...

Well she's walking through the clouds

With a circus mind thats running round

Butterflies and zebras

And moonbeams and fairy tales

Thats all she ever thinks about

Riding with the wind.

When I'm sad, she comes to me

With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free

Its alright she says its alright

Take anything you want from me, anything

Anything.Fly on little wing,Yeah yeah, yeah, little wing

"little wing" - jimi hendrix

(though this will not win you any awards for originality...sweet..nonetheless,kk)


well jus cant be defined it is more demonstrated than defined............ok ...

eg : wen u accept a persons proporsal jus because you dont want to hurt his feelings u cant say its love its just a COMPROMISE Love is wen one believes in ur tears and others believe in ur smile !!

(well,goodgoing brother!! follow your heart.......)


When He starts liking Her more than He likes himself.. Hes making love..

(yeaaa...more than originality,your reply will surely win for heartfelt definitions.)


You know you are making love to a person, when you are, what you are in front of that person....when you are actually in love, all those philosophies of Main hoon na do happen...his talk will make you feel that you are listening to music..his smile makes you feel that you are in mid of some 10000W lightened stadium.....and follow your heart and you will know whom you love the most!!!!!

(hope you always follow your heart and find what you want, ambilikutty!)


Well making love can be as simple as one romantic glance (when you expect the least)that awakens all the unknown desires....when you know that he doesn't expect anything from you and you are more than willing to give yourself only to make him realize that you love him as equally as he does and needs him to hold you for lifetime(no double meanings please)....n last but not the least when you cook for him something that he relishes but you hate to make...i feel these are some of the instances of Making Love not the M&B way but in a common man way!!!

(beautiful....that really made me feel 'ohh sooo mushy love' sorts.......)


1.when u r busy with something n notice her looking at u n smiling....u giv her that questiong glance saying "What??" she jus says nothing n the smile widens to a grin....shes admiring u...n shes happy to hav u...shes making luv...

2.u hav a bad day at work n u cal her n tel her that....u come home only to find ur fav dishes on the table served steaming hot...n she waiting for u...the look in her eyes is luv..shes makin luv...

i conclude...once shes in luv wid u my friend, she'll be ur greatest admirer n ur greatest critic...she'll be ur strenght n ur weakness, she'll be eeverything u want...she'll fight with u, she'll fight for u...

(you sure know for beautifully normal and usual..things that really happen with normal people...damn nice.)


Person who u love doesnt need to love u..

you are caring her without her knowledge..

you are helping her without her knowledge..

when you hurt yourself for her happiness..

Trust and understanding for her...

you can say u r making making doesn`t need to be such that "we are happy always"...

(lovely vibin......thats real intense....and mature.)

Friday, February 13, 2009

a journey through my journals.

this is a farewell post to one of my constant companions of the past decade-my journals.
today morning as i was winding up writing the last lines of an experiment in medical microbiology(i like adding these names,u see,i feel as if i am doing something intelligent) i realised that it was actually the last experiment for the academic year. and since i finish my PG this year,it meant that this was the last time i was writing my journal. yipppeeeee!!!! went a nervecell .hold on,said another nerve cell. think back,kid..think back...
i remember my first journal,a scrawny thin book it was.eight standard when science bifurcated into science 1 & was mostly printed stuff and we just had to fill in the diagrams,observations and results. man, werent we an excited bunch,wow,it was so easy to be excited back then,where did that ability go with passing time?

The more you see the less you know
The less you find out as you go
I knew much more then than I do now
........Can you see the beauty inside of me?
What happened to the beauty I had inside of me?

no..i am not a poet..that is actually BONO(of the U2 fame)(the song is 'city of blinding lights')
back from these musings, as time passed,we passed out of classes and went into higher classes and the journals just got fatter and thicker and heavier.
the excitement faded,we(journal and the student) settled into the usual rhythms of their alliance. a marriage of sorts.along with the academic years the journals took on many forms (like man becomes boy,friend,husband and father and women become girl,sister,friend,wife and mother and so on.please add whatever u want.)the journals became physics journals(i so hated the ray diagrams)chemistry journals(ughgh..the tables) and biology(the cell diagrams still gives me nightmares!!) if that was not enough as our relationship progressed they took up many more fanciful forms-immunology,genetics,microbiology,biostatistics(bloody conmen-they managed to squeeze statistics into biology.i am still waiting to be attacked by biomaths).
but,yes i have to say,as with everything fanciful if you take the pains to actually know it ,it is actually pretty simple biology dressed in designer labels.
well,this love hate relationship has so many memories!!

memories of late nights spent writing journals with only barking dogs as companions. there is something eerie about howling dogs ar 2am in the morning. and how do you wake up your parents and ask them to sit with you because the dogs are barking(well,i dont know,arent they supposed to sleep?but poor souls whatelse can they do but bark,they cannot talk,right?) at that time,my sole companion was the warmth and strength of the hard bound book on which i was scribbling away to glory.its pages seem to be soothing me with unspoken words of comfort and companionship..."come scared one..immerse in these words you write on us and forget the howling dogs and hounds of hells"(sigh...peaceful..i say)
but yes,not every memory is relaxing,especially the day after this "hounds of hell opera"night you actually understand that what they teach you under the label"muscular system" at school is true.coz you can feel their soreness right from your right hand side of the neck to your fingertips(i write with my right hand,you see)
if dragging your hand with you everywhere is not enough,your teachers's unwillingness to sign on the experiments because your diagrams of chicken embryo look like hen's children is enough to make you want to howl at night too.
and the train travels you and your journals take!! well,i have spent many pleasurable (\m/) afternoons lolling of on my thick journals in the train. but yes,if you take into account all the shouts and screams you get because you are occupying more space in the train because of your journals have to be taken into account. and also the number of bags that go into early labour(read "torn and destroyed") because the journals want to see the world too.(impulsive kids..i say)
i have cribbed a lot about how we never had printed journals when it mattered. how we write 3 200 pages journals and fill in with the history,geography and psychology of SCEINCE experiments when time could have been saved if it was all printed with observations and results filled by us.
when i think back now i think it helped me a lot,my handwriting became bearable and stable. more important,though at times i switch off my brain when i write the words still penetrate and stay there. thus,concepts are learned.
in the twilight of our realtionship,as i view the past 10 years,nostalgia overwhelms me. i know that i will have tears in my eyes as i see my journals sit proudly and smartly dressed in brown cover on my examiner's table. and i know,they will be the reason i will get marks,which to some extent are undeserved.but,which i will accept as the journals unconditional declaration of love.
farewell,my mate and companion. you shall be fondly remembered(tears blur my lashes.)

Thursday, February 12, 2009

where in GOD's name has all the fairness in the world gone?

i love myself. well,am sure everyone loves themselves (sheepishly) and am sure everyone loves me(well,noone has told me till now,that they hate me!). jokes apart..i LOVE myself to the point of being a narcissist. but,as it seems to be a vice in me,thanks to my zodiac,my moodswings at times swings away with my narcissism and leaves me all alone without my self love(sob sob.)
and during these weak moments somethings which never ever generally bothers me become crystal clear to me and i become very sure that some conspiracy is in progress against us,WOMEN.
i base my hypothesis(soon to be accepted theory)on these facts.
1. all through our lives except during blessed childhood we are expected to deal and take care of our mane. well,to top it all,we are supposed to make it look good even if it is wild,frizzled or uncivilized. very few percent women are born with naturally pretty hair.(sighs) and we are supposed to deal with the heartbreak of seeing it fall seasonally and subject it to abuse of 1001 chemicals and pollution.
but,never once are we allowed to tonsure our heads voluntarily(no..i am not an advocate of head tonsure without the individual's permission.)whereas,guys can even get away with that.they can grow hair,they end up looking cool,they can cut it when they feel hot and sport a cleanshaven pate and still look good. why?!!?!?!?!(melodramatic flourishes)
2. PMS. well,do i need to elaborate on this? not only do we subject ourselves to this monthly torture but we also need to grin and bear the third class jokes made on it!! and..the worst is when you are really irritated about something and people attribute it to PMS! why a woman cannot be irritated because her neurons fired? not due to some hormonal short circuit!!
well,men,they really are lucky!!!
3.WAXING and THREADING!! while men can get away with body hair and claim that it looks sexy why cant women? why do we need to pour hot wax on ouselves and thread away at teeny weeny eyebrows!!why cant we also look hairily sexy?so girls,next time a guy makes fun of the shape of your brows,immerse him in hot wax and thread it away!!
4. labour pains. well,it is a great experience or so the experienced ones claim when they look at their children doing something that makes them proud. it is also painful,they claim, when we do something which doesnt make them happy!! :(
if it is so beautiful,touching and life changing i want to be bighearted and present guys too the chance to experience it.
5.let me club together the facts that guys get away with latenights,swearing and showing their finger ,much more easier than girls.
whereas it makes a guy look macho when he does these,it makes a girl look too forward and morale less and less of wife material when she does the same(these are stereotypic responses). should i add booze to the list?

well,these are few of my complaints when i feel low and sad. but to be honest,somehow it all seems ok during normal times.i does make us look prettier,so does waxing and threading. as for PMS and labour pains,between men and women,someone has to accept it,seems someone somewhere chose us. as for all others maybe someday we will have our revenge.
as i said i am too busy LOVING myself to notice the so called pitfalls.
(yea,the moood just swung back.)

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

some things i would never have admitted not knowing....

"wow," i exclaimed."that looks really pretty!"
cut away from the world honking away on the roads below,a group of 8 students sat listening to their professor enthrall them about the magic of cytogenetics. we sat in this laboratory tucked away in one corner,on the 7th floor of a massive hospital. the curly haired(somehow,she reminded me of einstein) doctor teaching us,looked at me and smiled kindly,"yes,it sure is,kid. for the simple reason it is a normal,healthily propagating cell and not cancer."
well, the slide that took my breath away was a slide on a technique called "chromosome painting."(i know,somehow the vast reaches of the human brush leaves me stunned,heehee.)

i guess,i am writing this blog,just a few months away from my final examination,because i want to be honest,with myself,with my friends,my family and all the people who think that when someone passes their postgraduation examination they know everything about whatever subject they have passed out in.well,ideally they should. but well,frankly,i donot. what i am going to write will make more sense to my friends when they read it.
i want to confess a few things i never have said before.
i want to confess that it took me a few years to completely understand what a genome means and that too after rote learning about the human genome project ,and spewing it in the answer sheets.
here goes,
everyone knows we are made up of cells.
basic science teaches us that the cell has a few stuff inside it,one of it is the nucleus.
the nucleus (as one of my teacher explained) is the secured locker of a bank,containing the valuable information of our heredity.
well,here is a bit more of pre degree biology.
the stuff inside our bank lockers have been deposited by our parents,and that too in exact halves(i am talking about normal conditions,if we can call oursleves normal!). its is a beaded,threadlike stuff called chromatin. when a cell divides,(that should happen if we have to grow.) this threadlike structure become something which we see as stickmen.scientifically they are termed 'chromosomes'. its on this stickmen that is written the story of our lives.our "genes."
i want to say that to figure this out,clearly,it took me some time.i never knew whether genes make up DNA or DNA make up genes.
well,yea..DNA..its like the house and -genes,chromosome,chromatin....bricks- DNA.
it stands for Deoxyribo Nucleic Acid and is the biomolecule which decides how we turn out.
now,back to chromosomes. well,we have a definite number of stickmen in us. we human beings have 23 pairs.that is 46 stickmen(lets stick to normal,guys!).i donot want to go into other species.but yes,just that we know,the numbers are different in different species,but constant in the same species.
so,these 46 stickmen come from our parents cells-well,they have names too,mr.sperm and ms(soon to be mrs) egg-at the time of the phenomenon called fertilization(another blog will be dedicated to this).
now,graduating to degree biology where this branch takes the fancy name of genetics. we were taught "humans are diploid". simple and precise as i can try...ploidy is the number of sets(homologous...similar,etc)chromosomes in a cell. and haploid is the number of chromosomes in the gametes(remember mr sperm and ms egg-they are called gametes,like men and women can be called people).
so now,diploid is two times haploid,triploid is three times,tetraploid is 4 times and so on.
so if,n=haploid,2n=diploid,5n=pentaploid.......
one n=23 comes from mummy,one n=23 comes from daddy.
now comes the culmination of this..when i knew what a "genome" was.....
when both the "n" from mummy and daddy combine,they produce a 2n which is a new colour..a new individual..a new us..
this new individual has 2n..but the "n"s making up the 2n are different from mummy "n" and daddy "n" for the simple fact that they have mixed and produced the 2n.they have merged and made the new combination and not just come and settled down next to each other.
the image below is of a technique called karyotyping..lets just say..we looted a dividing cell and have arranged the loot for visual appreciation. these are the stickmen i was talking about. our chromosomes arranged in pairs. and yea..that X and Y ,you see are the sex chromosomes. this is a male karyotype(normal).females will have 2 X instead of XY.

in each single pair,if we take one chromosome and make a set of 23...we have the GENOME.
some points:
each chromosome have similar we pick one from each pair..we are representing the whole.
though they are from our parents they are not the identical ones..that is if we arrange 23 chromosomes we will not get our parents genome,i hope i have made that point clear.
well...thats what it is..all our cells have 46 chromosomes.
so if we pick up one cell and take 23(which is our "n"...haploid..remember?) representatives,one from each pair..we have our GENOME.

phewww....i hope we understood the "great G".
these were terms which were vague to me..but i hope with passing becomes clearer.
and yea..i remember now i started with chromosome painting,well there is chromosome walking ,jumping and much more.but..i guess..some other day..i will confess and try to decode it.
till then...enjoy our amazing GENOME.
and yes...doubts and corrections are welcome.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

eyes of the beholder

well..nowadays it seems i am on this trail of clues which lead me to believe in the age old saying"beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder". these clues are littered...some are past memories..some are recent experiences. and as of some mechanism in me..or maybe its just the way i am formatted..the first thing is associate when i think "beauty" is "nature. i guess,people arenot surprised. :)
i am a fan of fiction,especially the fiction in which there is a whole lot of descriptive passages of countrysides.there is something about imagining and painting pictures using someone else's words and clues.and yes,thus,sitting in my house,i have travelled the world and its beautiful cities and countrysides without any visual stimuli apart from the words in front of me.
the same way i have met ,lived,laughed and cried,loved and hated ,with the creations of writers's imagination.
i always used to believe and envy all those characters who had sweeping lands,farms,horses, rivers and mountains as their immediate surroundings.somehow these people always fell in two categories-either the ones who feel suffocated in all the open vista around them. or the ones who were comfortable in its emptiness,who were peaceful in their own skins and who passionately loved their land. it was always this second class of people who attracted me.give me a book which is a weepy saga of some family over generations,include the above mentioned aspects in them.i will wholeheartedly devour the book.
when i think back now,i feel, my subconscious knew what it was searching for,when it looked for peace in a citylife.
i remember a time,one evening,trying not to fall asleep while studying for a test,i was struggling with to stay interested when my restless mind just wanted to shut the book and never see it again. outside my window,at a distance was a thin tree,with hardly a few leaves on it.but the best thing about that tree was a bat hanging upside down on it. i watched the flight of the bat a few minutes.taking an elliptical path it always used to end up on the same branch. somehow that cycle stabilised my mind,atleast enough to study something utterly non interesting to me.
there is this small window above the air conditioning unit. if you lie down and let your eyes wander to that window,you can see the sky,the floating clouds and the heaven -reaching branches of a tall tree. it is a beautiful sight,which will put a spell of peaceful sleep over you,when you find yourself exhausted in all ways,but sleep still alluding you.i have had my fair share of peaceful siestas with this lullaby rocking me.
i can go on about the huge,solid tree in front of my main window,whose neighbours are a gulmohur tree and a yellow flowering tree. need i mention the breathtaking beauty of the triad,on a sunny afternoon during the flowering season! also,you feel back in time,when the age was primitive,when you look at the way the tree's strong branches dance in the rain and wind.
well, you sure feel that the world is a peaceful place when you see the sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches of trees. well,what an illusion,indeed,peace!
today morning,while going about doing my chores,i was dumbstruck by the beauty of the pattern formed by the sun's light reflecting through the designs in my translucent curtains.

recent experiences also include the walk on my terrace. i still cannot forget the beauty of the moonlight reflecting on the tiles and the the magnified stars staring back at me.
well,after all these thoughts,i just realized,i donot need a farm or a river in my near vicinity to be inspired. i just need to look around with "not jaundiced ;not prejudiced" eyes, and maybe then,i will get exactly what i want......

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

the choice (short story)(well..not even a story..hmm..a narrative)

Well, i certainly am in a dilemma…
This is the place I love…the place I was born in,the place I belong to and the place I want to breathe my last in…I don’t know what it is that “they” mean by their terminologies and language skills, but I guess, though it is certainly not a part of my anatomy ,my roots are here…generations of my family have lived out their lives’s drama here..
What do I say about this place? Acres and acres of red earth, surrounded by the high and mighty, but mute mountains…there are times I remember from my youth…running around wild, free and spirited…in the kind protective ring of these old mountains ,that I have believed that I could conquer this world. That I can make what I want to, out of my life…that I have heard god whisper in my ears.Times I have flown on the wings of the winds….
Enough of my childhood romantic fantasies….apart from feeding my rich imagination, this land fed generations of my people by wholeheartedly offering her blood. Yes, we bled her off oil…some of the biggest oil wells in this country are situated here…increasing the worth of this land by economic units .But for me, the true worth of this land is much more than economy…the golden fields of maize which are eternally engaged in a myriad dance of colors with the sun…the gentle sheep that graze this land and make you feel that wherever you go in this world, when you come back home, you will find everything to be the same, exactly the way you want it to be…
Yes. This land has a spirit, the spirit of nurturing and providing for everyone dependent on her, even at the cost of bleeding or tearing herself up.
Sometimes, when the moon is high in the eastern skies and everything is quiet, as my eyes scan the vast horizon, i distinctly see vague image, sights, ghosts of the distant past . my ancestors roaming the nightscape.
Yes..thats the too distant past. my mother always said I had the vision…
More in the present….what is more persistant in my mind nowadays is the image..the image of my beloved ….my dear…lolling of to sleep…against my belly…the nudgings and he tried to shake sleep off and study in the stable….in the wan light hanging from the entrance…because..he wanted to be with beloved master and me,his faithful horse..
Am sure you are thinking that I have grown senile with age….what with my rumblings about my birthland and master.
But no..these images and the emotions it stirs in me clashes with what my wife and children want of me…they donot want me to participate in the race,the race..that would bring in the money for my master to save our land.
I understand the concerns of my family, they think I am too old for this and my son even feels master ought to train him. But they do not take into consideration my experience in similar races…they haven’t participated in half the number of races I have..i love my family..but my duty to my master is also of prime importance to me..the duty which is my passion and life blood
and of most importance..they donot understand the basic feeling that binds a horse to his master..the feeling that their hearts are beating as one and their bodies are the continuation of each they move forward in time and space
I will participate in this race with my master …and I donot know what the outcome of it would be..
I donot know what will be my condition after that..
But what I do know is..what I feel and what I have been silently taught..the lessons of unconditional love..given by this land to us….the feeling that more than the outcome of the action performing it wholeheartedly is important…
That more than the end of a journey..the anticipation and the course of that journey is important…
And when we succeed….maybe…god will whisper in my ears again….and I may see myself in the distant images in the horizon….

twilight from my terrace.

A few days back,i had been to my building's terrace for an evening walk with my friend. we both huffed and puffed up the seven storeyed building,running the last steps with increased vigour and dashed through the door into the enveloping light of twilight.

i had read somewhere that "twilight" is actually an illusion,when the sun is just below the horizon and its light is refracted by the atmosphere.well,there never was a more beautiful illusion than this foolplay by the earth and the sun.

the nature fan that i am,i remember thinking once,how suffocating and claustrophobic it was not to have anything worthwhile to stare your time away in the city. well,after my evening in the terrace,i sure have removed that prejudice from my list.

the light evening breeze carried with it my own perfume's fragrance.i felt the day's weariness leaving me.there are these quiet,reliable mountains behind my house.the play of colour around them was such that ,as if someone has sprayed colour all above them but was scared to get too close to the outline.this gave an illusion of shimmering white followed by a myriad hues of pink. all around highrises stood tall and serious. people living their lives in each rectangle of window opened to my view. the highway at the distance creating a creek of twinkling light.

well,i wished that i was a poet,sometimes the beauty of certain things so overwhelm you that you feel you lack appropriate words,colours or abstracts to describe them,cause all of them seem to lack magic when compared to the beauty in front of you.

the shimmering stars above me seemed to be lovingly teasing my musings.sometimes i wonder whether i am the only crack in the universe who is inspired by abstract things so much that they make me mute because i am overwhelmed.somehow humans rarely do that to me.somehow almost every thing is robbed off purity and twisted where we are concerned.

the Orion which is the only constellation i can hunt down(pun intended) appeared above me.

my favourite part of the "Great Hunter"is his belt. the three stumps in the night sky cricket field.

it always takes me back to a different time, a time spent on the roof of the house,planning field positions in the night sky,hunting and pinning down stars,dreaming dreams spun with the fine thread of stardust,with the sea and her ships twinkling and standing witness at a distance.

these stars as old as our earth,as old as time itself,gazing down at our lives and as it is believed ,influencing them.

well,i always dreamed and stored my collection of them in the stars.

and i guess that is the reason i loved the movie "stardust".

people should have their fair share of fairytales. the last thing i remember before sleep overtook me was that i was smiling thinking about the movie.

the best part is how Yvanne always glows brighter when she looks at the man she loves.
(i know i sound vague,but please watch the movie.) :)

well, i felt like i had climbed Mount Everest (in the spiritual sense) as i stood there taking the world around me.

and yeah,this romantic musing ended with a call back to earth on my phone.

well,mundane life called back and i followed it.