Resolving Resolutions

Life in general is a great leveller,just when you think that you have figured it all out, you are on top and there is nothing to remove you from your ego throne, it gets back at you with annoying alacrity. For me it is this moment, this very second and few thousand more seconds to follow. My physical body is a part of a biology discussion class where we are discussing the hyperdynamic plasticity of chromatin proteins. This is one of those situations you wouldn't like to be in, specially when people think (or so you think that people think) you are one of the intellectually elevated species. There are two harsh realities of life a) I don't get Biology, b) there are things for which you have to work hard in life and sadly for me that is biology.

At this point I am clinging hard to the bottom rung of the ladder of biology knowledge in the class and the only person who knows lesser that I do, is I myself. What made me write this apart from total disinterest in chromatin modelling is the quality retrospection you go through during these "lost" moments. The first thing I do during this solitude is make a resolution to be regular, more prepared and better read. Sadly, the only resolution I accomplish with alarming regularity is to make a resolution, and of course break it to get to the next one. This is the only time when yesterday's sleep, TV and internet surfing seem like a total waste of time, when I should have been "actively" involved in research. I am being slightly harsh on myself, because I did spend most of the weekend doing school work. But these are moments when you free fall to the extremity (hence you promise yourself to do work and nothing else).

After setting my goals, I look around to see my worthy competitors. The manicure expert, the pondering daydreamer and the lost in slumber genius don't seem a real threat. What I need to beat, is the competition from the rambling frontbenchers. That does not seem like a easy task, since they string phrases like pleuripotency, gel isolation and marker analysis into strong coherent sentences to powder puff and make up a moot point into a strong argument.

Almost a few minutes to the end of the class, the fate of another, anxious, weak-willed resolution of mine waits for its fate with not a lot of hope....

The Cooking Conundrum

Being a student living away from family, and a male (tribute to all stereotypes), the most neglected of pleasures for me is the gastronomical one. To add a dash of pity, picture a true vegetarian ("oafishly orthodox-no-onion-no-garlic-Iam royally screwed" club) in a land where meat dominates wheat like spice rules Indian food; after a point that is all you find.

I am one of the fortunate souls who can find my way through trouble without stepping on the regular kitchen landmines. But I have a fair share of "thorough-bred" Indian male friends, who have feasted on curd rice like there is no tommorow, because that is the easiest thing to 'cook'. Learning to cook rice is the first step up the self sustinence ladder and first step down the chauvnism one. Living with a bunch of guys who have no idea of household chores, teaches a few basic points, a) what your mom does is the hardest job in the world, respect it. b) cooking is an art,admit it. c) kitchen is also a part of the house, use it.

One of the cliches about life is that it is a great teacher...Believe me, the first class in art of living is when you live alone and fend for yourself. After living at home with parents for over twenty odd years, "bachelor life" or living alone, seemed embellished with thrills of freedom. What one tends to forget, that the things we take for granted like being served good food, all regular chores done in oblivion etc suddenly vanish. Fending for yourself is the real learning curve that I hit and overcame when I came to the US. What I learnt living alone, is not just cooking, being responsible and doing my work on my own, but a deeper and more important lesson. What parents specially mothers do at home, is indispensable, hard and never to be taken for granted. A very banal reply to what does your mum do, is "nothing, shez a housewife". To call that nothing, is not just making a dumb statement but being outrageously unjust to someone's work. What I learnt was a more profound lesson, the art of patience, the joy of self sustinence, and probably the first steps towards understanding how hard it is to be a parent....