Over

“Over”

That was the only thing my father could say on the phone. His throat was choked. I understood, that my uncle was no more.

We waited till the next morning to cremate the body, for his son (on his way back from America to India) to see him for the last time.

We reached the crematorium at about 7 in the morning. The wood was damp, because of the dew in the morning. The service men were preparing for the cremation. The body was finally kept on the pyre. All clothes were removed, and the dead body was applied a lot of ghee. The body was covered with the same logs of wood.

On the other side, someone prepared a torch. It was finally lit. About 100 people there, all sad. Some friends, some well wishers and some relatives. A burst of weep for the last time. The body was put on fire. Within two hours, the body vanished.

It did not need any architecture for the crematorium to be one. Everyone existed in their own mental space. No enclosure, no protection, but only occupied by a sense of loss. Something disappeared right in front of our eyes, which was there till a few hours back. It was neither held by the walls, nor the roof. No material thing, no observable beauty, but the non existential fire, which made up a screen for the thoughts, the memories.

A body we tried to save and we burnt it ourselves.

It was indeed over.

The Sunday Reads

After a long time, read 3 very interesting articles in various news papers today…one was a memoir and other two talking about various issues – theoretically and at the factually.

The first one was on the news readers on Doordarshan long time ago, about their lives and how they themselves had a fan following, power, and conviviality. The most interesting part of the article is the picture of the news readers, which made me do “aaaaahhhh I remember!” in my mind, and made me remember those days, when there was no cable connection at home and my father would return back right on time for the news…

The other two were more serious. The first one talked about how, radical capitalist reforms are brought about in a treacherously planned manner after some natural/man made disaster. We generally never tend to think how stealthily, the government shifts the land under our own legs…this article was just a brief explaining the work of Canadian journalist, Naomi Klein…who studies the connection between the disaster and the reform.

The last article, on the farmers who wrote a suicide letter to the president of India made my blood boil out of fury. The three farmers in a small village of Maharashtra are completely broke and left with no other option to put an end to their life. The article can be appreciated in many ways. Firstly, it is a very well written piece, exposing the right things at the right time while reading, and also maintaining the urgency of the issue, still said in the form of a simple story. At the same time it exposes a number of issues our villages are dealing with, silently – the ill-connectivity, the simple lifestyle, the uneducated ness (through the misconception of what a cheque is), etc. it definitely paints a picture of the village in mind. Secondly, it brings up the inefficiency of our ministers and the lack of administration. The false promises, spending time at wrong places, laid back attitude…Thirdly, it discusses the personal issues of the farmers – their living conditions, social issues and their exploitation. Lastly, the article brings out the reach of media. If media is used rightfully to bring about important issues like this one instead of where Yuvraj Singh is spending his time/shah rukh’s hairstyle, I think it will make a better change.

After many Sundays, felt like sitting and reading the newspaper at length.

The articles mentioned above were:

The Doordarshan Divas, The Times of India, January 6, 2008, Page 17
Everybody loves a good Tsunami, The Times of India, January 6, 2008, Page 18
Death Wish, Mumbai Mirror, January 6, 2008, Page 6

its not blue...its not orange....its pink...
plethora of pink

angrezi gyaan bhandaar

Only a few new words I learnt during the making of my dissertation. This is how I understand them. For further explanation, please refer wikipedia.

Etymology: study of origin of a word

Semantics: development of the meaning of a word contextually over time

Kitsch: a cheap reproduction of the original

Epistemology: study of development of language

Hermeneutics: study of development of a theory and interpretation and understanding of texts.

Gestalt: a theory which does not depend on orthodox rationalism or empiricism for its explanation

Lage Raho Munna Bhai

The other day we went to see the much awaited Lage raho Munna Bhai….
I had heard far too much about the film….everyone said that it was better than the previous one, giving Gandhi’s message of peace and also that it had gone for the Oscar nomination! Well, so the film was finally tax free and we did not miss such an opportunity!

Now a days these multiplexes are no bigger than exaggerated living rooms…well that was the first impression when I occupied the seat in the theatre! But soon, the film started and the hall was blacked out removing any idea of the volume of space from my brain!

And there it was…the message of Gandhi… “If someone slaps you on your right cheek, give the left one too!” the person sitting behind me perhaps, failed to get the message. He was a constant irritation to me! His legs were just not quiet, constantly fiddling with my seat, kicking, beating…and what not! So here I was, deciding whether to be or not, a victim of Gandhigiri…

I gave him a sharp look once, twice….no avail…

I thought this was the best time to put Gandhigiri to test. I stayed quiet! Soon, it was intermission, when I tried to look what the person looked like! But he was too fast to get up and run out for his snacks….

When the film restarted, he was back, back with alcohol…spoiling the entire room of fresh air! I felt like laughing! Laughing on Gandhi and his Gandhigiri and then the film lost any significance for me… what could I have told him? What would Gandhi have done? Gave him another glass of alcohol?
Well the mood was already disturbed, and his constant kicking did not stop! Poor man….I pitied him…and Gandhi…and Vinod Chopra….

Will this country change? People might think another Gandhi is inevitable today, but how much do they care even after realizing this fact? So we can make 10 more films giving out messages of peace, truth and all that, but the world has changed….perhaps, it need a ‘refined’ Gandhi, I don’t think, the older one will help!

Ticketless Travelling

Like most of the days, I was late again….
Last evening I had noticed that my train pass had just expired. Weary evening did not encourage me to stand in the long queue for the issue of a new one. I postponed the task to the next morning…and there I was, late again…

Forget the pass, I did not even care to take a ticket. Overlooking the booking office, I quickly ran up the flight of steps of the over bridge. Just as I reached the landing to take some deep breath, the message on the board flashed before my eyes – “FOR BONAFIDE USERS ONLY”, which meanwhile, increased my already fast-beating heart-beat. My legs slivered a little, but I moved on…with a hope to board the immediate train on the platform towards Churchgate.

Seeing the train approach the platform, I ran, in order to catch this one. Till I reached the platform, the train had geared off. I missed it. I stood in danger zone. I had no ticket. I was not a ‘bonafide traveller’. I looked out if there was any ticket checker to catch hold of me…and soon a person in a black blazer approaches me. I turn my eyes. But he looks at me, and follows the linear path. I am scared. I turn my whole body in the opposite direction. The man comes and pats my shoulder. I turn…

“Will this train halt at Andheri?” he asks pointing at the indicator.
“Yes,” I answer heaving a sigh of relief.

Quitting the platform drama, I quickly board the train arrived. And I am careful to look out for an undercover T.C. To my relief, there is a seat vacant. I quickly grab it before any one else. I take a look behind, in the gangway. I am safe.

The train moves and I suddenly see a person putting his hand in his pocket. He takes out his pen, and his diary. I mistake it for the fine receipt. No he is just another traveler! I put my hand on my chest only to suppress my thumping heart beat. It is pumping fast, I discover. I place my thumb on the other hand; move the wrist watch, to check my pulse. Suddenly, someone shows me the hand towards the seat. I look up. His eyes are wide open, demanding, compelling, and complaining. My face, on the other hand, bewildered, perplexed! But the man asks me only to get aside, for a fourth seat! Before I moved, I took my handkerchief out of my pocket. I moved and then wiped of the tiny droplets of sweat trickling from my temples…

Soon the next station arrived. What if the T.C. entered in? If he catches me, what will I do? Do I have an old ticket, so that I can fool him or something? Or will he overlook me? I closed my eyes, pretending that I am asleep. But my thoughts ran… how much will he fine me? Do I have that much? Even if I have, am I ready to pay that much? I should have brought a ticket, I felt at that moment (but where was the time for that!). What a shameful position it will be in front of everyone, if I am caught! I opened my eyes. The alighting crowd in the train at the arrival of the next station comforted my situation to some extent. “T.C.s don’t board in crowded compartments,” I thought. I constantly prayed. “God, this is the last time I am traveling without a ticket, please save me…I assure you, next time, I will surely buy a ticket…”

I get up from my seat with a pounding heart to get down at my station which is just two stops apart. At the next station, a person in a blue shirt boards the train. He is a middle aged man, somewhere in his forties. I doubt him to be the ticket checker. I move towards the gate of the train in the opposite direction. I look across from the window in the partition at his activities as he moves in the compartment. He shakes a person who is asleep on his seat. The person gets aside, and gives him place for a fourth seat. On the other side, my station arrives.

Looking the time in my watch, I learn there is no second to waste. I run, when suddenly, a person catches hold of me…

“Where are you going?” asks the voice…
I raise my head, my eyelids not dropping down….the face seems familiar… I gulp down the saliva in my mouth…
“You scared me…lets run, it’s late…,” I tell my friend…

Poetry

Reminisces

I still remember…
Taking a waste piece of paper,
And quickly rolling it into a pipe!
Then filling a mug with water
And preparing a soapy solution
Agitating it to get foam of froth.

Then going out to the barsâti -
Overlooking the world against the parapet
Carefully,
Keeping the froth-filled soapy mug on the wall,
And dipping the paper pipe into it,
I would blow out bubbles of soap in space.
Some would rise up – the air taking them even higher,
Others would descend down due to gravity.
Both would eventually burst.

But not dampened by the spirit;
Putting the pipe again in the suds,
I
Would blow out more globes of glass -
Till the water emptied
And the paper dissolved…

Bomb-ay

Bomb-ay
….the 7/11 attack

I just don’t know what I would have done had I been in the compartment in which the bomb blast took place. One of the possibilities is that my hands and legs would fly up in the air rendering me handicap or the rest of my life. But as soon as I think of this, my heart starts pumping faster and somehow the brain just refuses to accept the thought. Hence my mind drifts and places me in the adjoining compartment…. This would perhaps cause me some injury, wounds and all that. Well, was I prepared for that? No, it would disrupt my entire year. And then getting back to normal would again take much of my time….as it is, I am a slow person…

Well so my mind takes me even farther in some of the remote compartments of the same train. And then it hears a huge blast which deafens my ears. I cannot hear anything and hence I try to just peep out of the train…I see people jumping out on the tracks…and unaware of what has happened, I too jump out seeing the people. Soon people realize that it is a bomb blast. Many of them rush for help…

What would I have done in such a situation? Rushed for people’s help…or rushed to get back home immediately, as soon as possible.

Considering the first case – helping people would require a brave heart. I start debating with myself about this…do I possess a brave heart or no? Most of the times the reply is negative. But deviating from this reality, had I been a bit brave, I would have helped people to take the injured bodies to the hospital. If not even that, I would have tried to contact the police and get them to the point of the incidence.

All this seems farfetched to my mind.

Hence I further go away from the blast site…where I would be one of the persons helping those who are mentally affected and tried to consolidate them, pacify them or serve them with some of the much needed water, tea or biscuits. Here I see myself doing the job much as a responsibility - as a responsibility of the citizen of Mumbai, and as a human first. Still, to distill it further and come to my situation then, I was at my apartment, unknown of the whole incident when the door bell rings…

My brother opens the door and finds the neighbour informing about the blasts… he promptly picks up the remote control switches on the television; and starts flipping through the many news channels. Every channel displaying the same images…it was horrific…I count all the people in my house and find my father missing (mom had gone to native place). Quickly I take my mobile and start dialing my father’s cellular number…just then I see the flash on the television - that all the phone lines are jammed…

However, incoming calls from outside Mumbai were still allowed…the telephone did not stop ringing till night, there were continuous messages of we being fine at our home, and dad too could be contacted via a distant call…every one was safe…

Nest day, the local trains were back again on their tracks transporting public…but the bulk was less. Evening, I too get ready for my music classes…all fine, I prepare to return….my train reaches Mahim (which was one of the stations where the bomb blast took place). Suddenly there was a shout… ‘run, run, run’…. People start jumping out of the train, within no time the train is vacated. The empty train reminds me of the blast scenes…my colleague holds my hand tight, and we enter the train again…a short announcement follows and the train moves…

Cockroaches and henroaches

Cockroaches and Henroaches…

“You know, cockroach is the only creature which is existing from the time when the dinosaurs existed on the earth.” Our science teacher told us…

Soon, a picture of cockroach came into my mind…

It is a dark maroon coloured creature, having two long antennas at the apex of its mouth. (yuck!). I have never zoomed in to see where its eyes are located. Somehow, calling it an ‘it’ would be grammatically controversial. Because you definitely have a he-cockroach and a she-cockroach! That is, a cockroach and a hen-roach (this is the right word!). A cockroach and a hen-roach make out to produce siblings!!!! Ever tried to imagine how their mating takes place…well, I have no interest. I am afraid of cockroaches!

My fear of cockroaches generated when I was barely 5 years old. I had taken part in a fancy dress competition, wherein I had dressed up as “Ram” (from Ramayana). I had worn a dhoti and kurta…that day, I returned home, and slept with the dhoti on at night. Suddenly, I experienced a prickly tickling on my thighs in my sleep. I jump out of my bed, and a cockroach falls out of my dhoti…(eeeeeeeee L)…it was scary for a 5-year old.

However, I won third prize in the fancy dress competition.

Oh! We were discussing cockroaches…so some of them can fly too. Earlier, I have seen flying cockroaches, but now a days, I seldom see them. However, they do have wings! All I remember from the “Classification of Animals” table that I studied in my 9th standard is that cockroaches belong to the class Arthropoda. This class of animals had well developed thighs and legs (why the hell did they develop!). We had also studied the anatomy of a cockroach, wherein, there were detail figures of its cross and lateral sections….I wanted to tear those pages out of my text book, but then I would have lost the text of the adjacent pages!

A common experiment taught to us by the text books was that no living being can survive without oxygen. There, they had taken two cases. The experiment consisted of two glass jars…one had some holes on its cap, and the other without holes. Then COCKROACHES would be introduced in both the jars. The cap would be closed. The observation was that, after 24 hours, the cockroaches in the jar with holes in the cap, survived, while those in the packed jar died. I would wonder, why they needed two jars, they could have put all in one…the one without holes! The experiment would still have the same conclusion!

“What do cockroaches eat?” I asked my teacher.
“They eat anything”, replied the teacher.
“I’ve never seen them eat anything!”

But the immense satisfaction that I got, when I saw the crawling lizard on the wall, preying upon the cockroach is unexplainable! The food chain is a wonderful thing! It keeps us…errr, me alive.

However, over the years, I have generated some courage in my heart at least to kill cockroaches. I have seen my father grab a running cockroach, in his handkerchief, and throw it out of the window. And I feel that it is an achievement! On the contrary, I take a fleet, and run behind the creature, and sprinkle the killing liquid on it (him/her). Nowadays these creatures get used to insecticides also which I think, is serious issue that scientists should take up as soon as possible.

The way the cockroach dies on spraying of an insecticide is interesting. First it feels the burns on its back, and then to ease the burn, falls on its back….afterwards, it is unable to turn, and eventually it dies. It is gluttonous…complicated creature…perhaps it has eight legs…or six…I don’t know! I can’t concentrate on a cockroach!

All this apart, some people enjoy holding a cockroach by its antennae. They make it run as fast as possible by stamping as close to the creature as possible, but not on it. My aunt says that she loves the tickly feeling when the cockroach runs on her body….

Enough……I can’t write more….

Monumental Marvels...(from The Times of India)

Monumental Marvels
By Jayant V. Narlikar


The episode of Mayasura in the Mahabharata tells us of the magnificent palace built by this remarkable architect for the Pandava princes. The palace was reputed to contain several marvels, and more importantly, optical illusions. There is the story of Duryodhana being shown around the palace and falling into a pool of water mistaking it to solid ground. Likewise there were examples of solid floors being mistaken for water pools.
Such illusions are created by cleverly incorporating the optical phenomena Reflection and refraction into architecture. Myths apart, there are real relics that tell us about the maturity of a civilisation through its scientific content. These can be of many types and find expression through optical and acoustical effects as well as other subtleties built into architecture and landscaping. The science may also have a utilitarian aspect. The drainage system of the Harappan civilisation, for example, shows certain level of advance on the ladder of practical engineering. A mature level of metallurgy is likewise indicated by the non-rusting alloy used in the iron pillar near the Qutub Minar in Delhi.

The principle of the pinhole camera is used in the Virupaksha temple. Here the light rays going through a tiny orifice and failing on a wall produce an inverted image of the light source on the wall. This method is seen in operation when the image of the gopuram of the temple falls inverted on one of the walls of the main temple 100 feet away. Another well known optical effect is seen on the face of the Buddha statue in an Ajanta cave: The carved expression of the face indicates different moods depending on the location of external light falling on it. Was the statue designed that way or did this happen by chance? Use of mirrors in lighting the underground chambers or other interiors of the fort in Gwalior is another clever optical arrangement. Likwise, in the fort of Chittorgarh, you can see a demonstration of how Padmini's face was shown reflected to Allauddin Khilji to satisfy his curiosity, without letting him actually see her.

Many science museums proudly exhibit whispering galleries where whispers carry across several metres, provided the source and receiver are properly placed, e.g., at the focal points of two parallel curved reflectors. A much more impressive demonstration of the same effect is found in the circular gallery of the Gol Gumbaz at Bijapur. In spite of a general high level of noise raised by crowds of tourists, I was able to pick up words spoken softly from a diametrically opposite point.

The signaling system at the Golconda Fort near Hyderabad uses a similar acoustic effect. A clap produced at the main entrance gate can be heard at the top of the fort a kilometre away. This facility was no doubt as useful in conveying messages those days, as a mobile telephone is today. The Vitthal temple at Hampi has musical pillars. They produce pure musical notes of the sargam when tapped. These use the principle of resonance similar to that used in a sitar. Clearly those who designed these pillars were familiar with the working of musical instruments.

What were the motivations for the creators of these monuments in incorporating these effects? Was this done on purpose or did it just happen accidentally? Looking at the precision of these examples, the latter alternative seems less probable. It is not necessary, however, for them to have known the fundamentals of the science of sound, namely that it travels in longitudinal waves, that its speed is determined by a formula using the elasticity and density of the medium, that resonance can be an important effect in amplifying sound, and so on. Many of these properties can be discovered empirically, through trial and error. That is how musical instruments in common use were made and perfected. The pair of shaking minarets in Ahmedabad is another demonstration of resonance. Why does one minaret vibrate when the other is shaken by hand? Again, the effect is startling even if you know the scientific explanation. Those who have read Jerome K Jerome's Three Men in a Boat would know about the maze at the Hampton Court Palace on river Themes, west of London. The maze landscaped into the gardens of the palace is a popular tourist attraction. It is easy to get lost in it and difficult to come out if you do not know the trick. We have replicated it in the science park at our centre at IUCAA in Pune.

Mazes have existed in India too. The Famous chakravyuha in the Mahabharata war which Arjuna's son Abhimanyu could enter but not get out of, is a maze that is technically called a labyrinth I was shown how to draw it by my mother and later was interested to find that the map resembles exactly the Cretan maze of ancient Greece. In a labyrinth there is only one winding route towards the specified target.
The Archaeological Survey of India and UNESCO sponsored a workshop recently in Delhi organized by the Surabhi Foundation to collect together such remarkable instances of science peeping through monuments. It was felt that a deeper study of such monuments is needed, not only to understand entire science behind them but also the motivation of their creators in having incorporated them in the first place. For many, it may throw some light on the scientific ethos of those times!