I wonder why my blogs are so very long! and they are extremly immature too....at this rate, I will never be a writer! :(

.......Deliver us from all evil

It was 1.30 in the morning and Shilpa suddenly woke up after a nightmare. Unable to get back to sleep, she made herself a cup of hot chocolate, loaded it with marshmallows on top and opened the blinds of her living room window to watch the rain. The torrential downpour was comforting to her as rain is a rare gift in the dry, deserts she lives in. The chocolately drink infused warmth to her whole body as it trickled down her throat.
But still, somewhere deep down there is a feeling of resentment and guilt. The same guilt she had for years after she saw some neighborhood boys throw stones at a puppy and she, an eight year old at that time, just walked away because she was afraid to speak up. Only this time, it was much worse.

She remembered the day when she was this doughy-eyed twenty year old, stepping away for the first time from the shelter of her parents home to build a place for herself in the world. She was going get her Master's degree and then become a scientist. She was meeting new people, learning new things, adjusting to living apart from her family and cherishing every moment of her new found life. She was also getting used to bad food in the dining halls that people called 'Mess'. What an apt name she thought to herself.
It was when she was getting her lunch in the Mess that a guy came up and spoke to her. His name was Dev and he was doing his MBA in same the institute. They knew each other very briefly from social gatherings. He was a Bengali too, which is what pleased Shilpa greatly because they had so many things in common to talk about. After a couple of chance meetings in the Mess, Dev decided not to leave it all to fate and asked her if she wanted to go see a movie. Shipla, the friendly creature that she was, agreed without hesitation. Next weekend, Dev asked her out again. Shilpa agreed but made a mental note in her mind to tell him that she does not consider them as 'dates' and so would love it if they could involve their friends as well. However, things didn’t go as she planned, because, on the way back from the movies, Dev proposed.
Shilpa was shocked! Even in her youth and naivety, she could see that Dev wasn’t being sincere. “So he claims to have fallen in love with me after going to the movies with me twice!" she thought to herself "He is lying!" This angered her greatly and she told him never to call her again and went back to her dorm.
The next week was 'exam week' and all she could think about was stereochemistry and Schrodinger's equation. Dev didn’t bother her at all and she thought of him as a 'good riddance'. Once the exams were over and done with, she was in better spirits and decided that it was time to finally get some shopping done. She stopped by the Mess to grab a cup of coffee. Right there, sitting outside the Mess was Dev. He was with his friends and pretended not to see her. She murmured an inaudible 'Hi' and hurried in.
"Hey Shilpa" she turned and saw that Dev had followed her inside." My parents are visiting me. They got some sweets from a Swami they visited here. Would you like some? Its supposed to be very holy. Surely it will bring you good luck for your exams"
"Sure!" said Shilpa thinking that perhaps she had wrong in her judgment about Dev. Maybe he is a good guy at heart after all.
"Take the whole sweet" coaxed Dev, all smiles.
"I can’t eat it, its.......um, its kind of bitter" Shilpa apologized.
"Wow!" Dev looked offended. "I didn’t know you would refuse something so Holy. Its wrong, you know, very wrong" he stressed on the word 'very'.
Shilpa immediately felt terribly guilty and remembered all the stories her Grandma told her about bad things that happened to people who refused Holy food, also called prasaad.
She managed to eat the rest of it and then after a glance at her watch decided it was time to go. Dev followed her out of the Mess.
"I am going to get dinner with my parents" Dev's unctuous smile was beginning to irritate Shilpa now. "Would you like to join us? They are staying at a Hotel by the sea."
"No Dev I would not like to meet your parents, thank you very much" Shilpa quickened her pace. Dev was still on her heels. She ran and caught the bus that would take her to the gate. Dev slipped in the seat next to her.
"Where are you going?" he persisted. "Can I come with you since you aren’t coming with me?"
Shilpa felt a wave of nausea rush through her. She didn’t know if it was from the lack of sleep or the obnoxious presence of Dev. "I thought you had plans with your parents. And now you want to come along with me? You arent even making sense anymore. Leave me alone!"
She got off the bus feeling heavy in the head and weirdly dizzy. She had never felt this way before and didn’t know what was happening.
"You look like you are not feeling well." Dev's eyes reminded her of a hungry animal. "Let me take you to your destination." He caught hold of her arm now.
Although she was glad for the support, Shilpa managed to wrench her arm free and mustered all the fierceness she had in her "Leave me alone RIGHT NOW or I am calling the security." She started walking towards the security guard at the gate.
Dev slinked back, looking disappointed.
Shipa hailed the nearest auto and went to the store just to get away from Dev.
At the store, Shilpa could not even stand without support. She held on to the fixtures for support and her legs felt like they were made of rubber. The whole world seemed to be spinning around in circles in front of her. Out of the haze, she remembered the face of the shop girl approaching her and asking her if she needed help. She remembered handing the girl her bag and muttering " my cell phone.....it has Anup Uncle's number.....my local gaurdian......please call him..."
She remembered Anup Uncle's daughter-in-law coming over to the store and then helping her into the car. After that, she had no clue of want went on. She woke up at 1.00 in the afternoon the following day with a heavy head and no recollection whatsoever of the night before.

Almost four years later and half way across the world, Shilpa was playing poker with her girlfriends on ladies night. After a lot of self-debate she finally decided to take the load off her chest and talk about the time she came so close to being raped. This was the second time she dared to speak about it to anyone and it was still as traumatic as ever to her. After hearing her story, someone posed a question she dreaded the most "Did you do anything about it, like report the miserable bastard?"
Shilpa bowed her head in guilt. "No I didnt. I was too afraid. "

Even after four years the regret burns through Shilpa like a fresh wound. She could have reported him. He may have been expelled. That would have been a lesson for him to never try something like that again. But instead she chose to be silent. She chose to let the miserable rapist roam loose in this world and prey on unsuspecting girls who would take his bait. God sent Shilpa an angel that day in the form of the shop girl, who delivered her to her safety. But would some other girl be as lucky?

Why Dmitri gave up drinking....

This story is quite irrelevant to my blog but I had to put it here for two reasons. It made me laugh on a dismal Saturday morning when I forced to come in to lab and......well, thats the only reason. But you will agree that it is a jolly good reason!
So I am sitting in lab on bright and sunny Saturday morning trying to get my experiment to work. Outside, I see people all around, skateboarding, running or just soaking up the sun. I am feeling trapped and depressed, hoping fervently that my experiment will start working so that I can go out for a nice long walk. But my machine refuses to cooperate and deep within, I have this sinking feeling which is usually a predicament of being stuck in lab till late in the night.

It is then that Dmitri walks up to me. "Excuse me Miss, do you what there is to do in the city beautiful city of Phoenix on a Saturday night?" he drawls in this thick Russian accent.
I like Dmitri. He is a visiting postdoc in the Biodesign and he came all the way from Russia. The things we do for science! But that is not the only reason why I like him. He has one gem of a wife who bakes the best double chocolate chip cookies in the whole world and is generous enough to share it with the whole first floor of the Biodesign. As you can imagine, she caused quite the stir in our lunchroom.
But this particular day, I was feeling very sorry for myself and that overcame my love for double chocolate chip cookies.
"Idont know" I pouted. "Cant you clearly see that I am one of those people who dont have a life! How am I supposed to know what normal people do on a Saturday night?"
But he is quite relentless and does not give up that easily, that Dmitri. "Oh come on Miss." (I get the feeling that he cannot pronounce my name.)"You dont need to have a life, you are the life of a party. Now tell me, what can Shawntel and I possibly do for fun tonight." he coaxed.
I knew he was far from truth but his flattery won me over.
"This is quite a party place, you know" I chirped. "If you want to hang out with the peppy college crowd, then you can go to Mill avenue. But Scottsdale is where the crème de la crème are at. The clubs are absolutely awesome. The only thing I dont like about it is that they dont serve Hypnotic. Now, if you are in the mood for karaoke........."
"Tch tch tch, no no Miss" he interrupted." I dont drink!"
"Now now, Dmitri, I know you like pulling my leg but I am not falling for this. I may be naive but not this naive" I replied laughing.
"But Miss, I really dont drink" his bright blue eyes were very serious behind his glasses.
"But....but.....you are Russian!.....you must....at least.....drink Vodka!" I was almost speechless.
"Ah, there is a very good story behind it" he sighed. " When I was little boy, about eight....."
I tried to imagine a smaller, eight year old version of the six foot tall Dmitri and laughed out loud. But I regained composure immediately, I didnt want him to think I am rude. It could affect my ration of the double chocolate chip cookies, you see.
"...my parents were alcoholics" he continued. "They used to drink almost everyday. But being an alcoholic is not bad in Russia so everyone liked them a lot too. They would have lots of parties at home. When I was about to turn eight, they decided that they should break me into drinking too. But I was a kid, so they wanted to be subtle about it. They decided it should be done gently so that I could be eased into it.
So it was my eighth birthday and all my cousins were over. Shawntel had been over since morning and we were all having a whale of a time. It was one of those rare days in Moscow when the weather was nice and we were all playing outside. I was running around all over the neighborhood and was so breathless that my tongue was hanging out like my dog's. I ran back inside and poured myself a glass of water from the jug in my bedroom and downed the clear, sparkling liquid in one gulp.
That is when it happened. My whole esophagus started burning like I swallowed fire. My stomach started burning too and I felt like I swallowed poison. I clutched at my throat and ran out trying to call for help but no sound would come out. I felt the bile rising in my throat and before I could control myself, I threw up on my father's very expensive carpet. My parents and their friends rushed over to me to see what happened.
My father stared at me with his bulging red eyes and then roared with laughter 'Why my son is a light weight'. He was joined by everybody else, except my dear Ma, and soon the room was filled with their thunderous laughter. You see, he had filled my innocent little water jug with Vodka without even telling me to 'ease' me into drinking!!!!
So that is when I gave up drinking." he concluded.
"Poor Dmitri" I was feeling sorry for him."Do you hate your father for what he did?"
"No no, you see, my father is in some way related to Stalin. THE Stalin." he confirmed looking at my amazed expression." But alas, I take after my poor Ma. I am a little wimp" he said, his eyes twinkling.
Well, that is why Dmitri doesnt drink. A nice anecdote for my Saturday afternoon ennui.

Here I am, once again.....

I am, perhaps, one of the most restless people I know. The only thing constant in my life is change. People who know me little will surely disagree. Here is this girl, doing a PhD (a 10 yr commitment, at least).....she must be one of those people who knows exactly what she wants and sticks at it until she gets it. Right? Absolutely wrong!
I, on the other hand have no idea of what I want or how I should get to it.
I mean, I not a hopeless case. I am not a vagabond who has given up on life only to drink and shoot up because everything is futile. I, on the other hand am a very passionate person with a lot energy and aggression. I am capable of working fervently for it when I really want it. It is just that, the things I want keep changing every now and then.
Take the example of my blog, for instance. I am very enthusiastic about writing every since I was a kid. I would write a diary, I would participate in essay writing competitions, win prizes, get admired for my compositions and all that. But then, I suddenly grew out of it. I didnt want to do it anymore. The same with my blog. I started out with a lot of enthusiasm and zeal, taking a lot of care to make good compositions. I loved it when people left comments and admired my writings. And then, one fine day, I didnt feel like doing it any more. I cast it in a corner and neglected it like an old toy. Didnt even give a thought to it for probably a year. Definitely didnt feel bad about neglecting an old friend.
Am I a bad person? Am I one of those people without feelings or emotions? Am I just shallow? I hope not! I feel that I lack a very basic and integral component called CONSISTENCY. While it comes so naturally to so many people, I have a hard time trying to cultivate it. Getting bored easily is just one of the wonderful characteristics my fabulous zodiac sign has bestowed on me. It may not seem all that big of a deal too, when I mention it casually. But what happens when I get bored with people who expect me to stick to them? Do I just walk away and break their hearts (I am guilty of that too, sadly)? What happens when I get bored with my work, my dreams and my aspirations? I cannot walk away from that. And I definitely cannot walk away from myself and try to be someone else if I get bored with ME oneday.
The very thought of it scares me; makes my heart grow cold. At the same time, I know that there is precious little that I can do about it. Ever since I was kid, I have abhorred routine. I have nurtured my love for freedom and somewhere along the line, I must have made a solemn vow to myself that nothing will ever tie me down.
That is perhaps my greatest commitment in life, the wedding band on my finger and the force which will goad me forever. That is who I am and that is the TRUTH. That is the beauty and everything else is irrelevant. That is the one thing that justifies my existence and my purpose.

Happily (?) married!!!!!!

"When two atoms come together, initially there is attraction, until they come too close and there is enormous repulsion" I was explaining bond formation and Vander Waal’s forces to my freshmen students in class.
"Sounds like the relationships with my girlfriends" sniggered Zach nudging his neighbor with his elbow.
Americans.....I sighed to myself, feeling glad that at least we Indians have some moral standing where relationships are concerned.
However, of late, certain unpleasant truths revealed themselves which made me reconsider my very strong beliefs. Most of my friends are in their early or mid twenties and are either married or about to be married. When I see them on the phone with their respective fiancés or hear their zealous professions of love, a part of me feels so refreshed and happy. It is as if seeing someone else in love reinforces my faith in true love. Even the little tiffs and squabbles seem so endearing that I gladly play agony aunt for the whole lot of them. "He went out for lunch with a girl today" sniffed my friend on my shoulder “I am calling off the engagement right away". An hour later she called up to say that her fiancé sent her flowers and so they decided to kiss and make-up! Quite adorable, methinks!
When, what does one do when she finds out that the two people who appear so madly in love aren’t so madly in love? Well, at least one of them isn’t! The knight in shinning armor comes to town and, instead of meeting his fiancé, philanders around with his ex-girlfriend. My friend is almost hysterical wondering where he is, fearing some mishap, and he is in a hotel room two miles away with another woman. I was speechless with shock, especially because the poor, unsuspecting girl has no clue about it till this day!
Today I had the misfortune of over-hearing another unpleasant conversation between another such 'lovey-dovey' couples where the girl was accusing the boy of being insensitive towards her, although he was financially obligated to her family. It was as if he had to marry her as to repay his debt to her family. I mighty hefty price, I would say!
These incidents make me wonder whether the concept of falling in love and living happily ever after is a myth altogether. When two people come very close to one another, there is bound to be a lot of friction. At this point, if they move apart, there is always the sweet longing of unfulfilled love. However, if they stick together, in spite of everything, then do things get so unpleasant that the togetherness is a mere formality? Does the flame get completely extinguished to the point that nothing can rekindle it again?
So does it make sense to move apart gracefully or is it more practical to stick together until the relationship degrades to a perfunctory duty? These questions will remain unanswered to me for a very long time, I am afraid.........

I've come a long way baby!

If I could take you all back in time to, let’s say, three years ago, I could have introduced you to a blissfully ignorant and highly delusional young lady. She used to think that the only things in life that were worth giving a thought to were chemistry problems and Romantic poetry! The only thing worth looking for was Orion in the night sky. All other practical mundane things took care of themselves.
Yes, that was me, only three years from today, living in my ivory tower with no worry other than what I was going to wear to college that day. My room seemed to clean itself no matter how messy I used to leave it everyday. The clothes strewn on the floor would pick themselves up, wash and iron themselves and find their way back into my closet. Food would appear miraculously on the table whenever I was hungry! An atmosphere very conducive for intellectual pursuits but very detrimental to the development of one's practical skills.
But this state of utopia could not continue forever and I was cruelly thrown into a 4 ft by 6 ft room in IIT where I had to make my own bed, mend my own socks and wash my own clothes. Never in my dreams had I imagined that reality could be this cruel. So I simply rebelled against it. I would buy new clothes to replace the old and dirty ones instead of washing them. Instead of eating in the hostel mess, I started eating out or ordering food.
So Fate thought that it would dig deep into my fool's paradise with its iron talons and shred it into bits until it was no more. It brought me to the other end of the world, all by myself, and made me live completely on my own!
My first day of cooking was a complete disaster! I reassembled the pressure cooker which my Mom had packed in for me. Then I studied it for about 15 mins and then finally called up my Mom.
"The lid is bigger than the body. I think you have given me the wrong lid. This one won't fit. It is too big!" I wailed.
I could almost sense my Mom's exasperation over the phone as she gave me very explicit instructions as to how I could get the lid attached to the body of the cooker. Next came the even most difficult part.....COOKING! I had dreaded it all my life as if it was a disease, something along the lines of the bubonic plague.
So my mother had to be woken at an ungodly hour by my confused wailing.
"Exactly how much oil should I put? And how much salt should I add?"
"According to your taste" she yawned!
"That is not an answer! Tell me, how many milliliters of oil should I add and how many grams of salt should I put! Tell me the exact measurements!" I snapped.
In the background my brother giggled "We shall overcome some day......"
And with an iron will, some minor guidance from the cooking gurus and a lot of failed attempts, I finally overcame my inhibitions and fear of cooking.
The other day, when I was promising someone that I will make paneer butter masala for her over the weekend; I couldn’t but help feeling proud of myself. I even know how to make sweet and sour shrimp and I can wash dishes and keep my room clean. Managing all this as well as my intellectual pursuits has become like a sort of a juggling act and sometimes I do feel like twenty four hours aren't enough in a day. However, what I also know is that there is a still a long journey ahead of me before I master the art and science of home management. And I can never rest until I have attained perfection and hence the strife continues. But once in a while, I like to give myself a pat on the back and say "you've come a long way baby!"

Are Engineers RETARDED?????

"Chemistry sort of scares me!"
That was the last line in the introductory speech of an aerospace engineer in the class that I am teaching this semester.
"Yeah, I know what you mean man! Same here!" I noted that he found a kindred spirit.
"Me too....I really don’t like chemistry. I am here because it is a course requirement" chanted a few others.
I was almost beginning to panic. I have never encountered so many chemistry-haters in a single room ever before. Previously I taught chemistry majors and pre-meds and it wasn’t surprising that they were as crazy about chemistry as I was. This semester, I was allotted to teach engineers and it was like a rude shock for me when I realized that not everybody in this whole wide world is madly in love with chemistry.
I mean, how can somebody deny chemistry its due reverence. Chemistry is what makes the world go 'round. You can’t undermine CHEMISTRY. Why, God himself must be a chemist and there is no denying that.
I decided to start from the very beginning. I handed the chalk to a geeky bespectacled computer engineer in front of me and asked him to draw an Erlenmeyer flask on the board. After a while of nail-biting and shuffling, he finally drew a very hackneyed beaker! I frantically began searching my vocabulary to find encouraging words that would make his mistake seem a little less grave.
"Umm....very good effort, I must say....but is this a flask at all? Shouldn’t we call this a beaker?"

"What does it matter what we call it? They are both used to keep water" Zach said, very matter-of-factly. I don’t know what engineering he was into but this dude bore a mighty strong resemblance to John Abraham and therefore the wise-crack was excused!

I decided to take them into the lab thinking that maybe hands-on experience will do them some good. But they refused to get their hands onto the instruments! They stood around fiddling with their pens and calculators instead of actually setting up the experiment.

"In my electrical engineering lab, they actually give us circuit diagrams and so I know exactly what to do" wailed an electrical engineer.
"Well, I am not teaching you guys how to cook and so I can’t give you a recipe. You have to come up with your own procedure" I was beginning to lose patience here.
Then I started getting assaulted from all directions......
"How do we operate a burette?"
"Which one is the pipette?"
"Will you give us an equation or something because I really can’t work unless I see one?"
"Oops....I just broke a funnel!!!!!!"

At the end of the three hours, I was exhausted. I always thought that engineers had slight short-circuiting in the grey cells but these kids were RETARDED! As I worked my way towards the material sciences department I wondered how I was going to deal with them for an entire semester.
I slumped down in my seat and tried hard to concentrate on what the professor was saying. I am taking a course in the Materials Engineering this semester and so I was a bit worried about the mathematical aspects of this course. You see, it has been ages since I did my last differentiation.
I stared at the foreign words on the blackboard like corrosion, beam energy and tried to fathom what the instructor was trying to say. And then, suddenly, like a flash of lightening, it all became clear to me. Finally, I could see the truth and my heart brimmed over with sheer remorse. Why, those poor kids seem as retarded to me as I must seem to this great engineer right here in front of me rattling weird sounding things like friction and dynamics.

If this world is a stage, then both chemists and engineers have their own niches and now that it has become necessary to encroach upon each other's territories, there be the initial teething pains. THAT can’t be helped. But I still believe that God is a chemist and I am sure nobody will challenge that!