Science, History, Chocolate deprivation, Yellow, Crimson Red and Upma

While I sit here in front of this giant monitor and think about how unwell Orion is, at present and how much I yearn for him, there are pint-sized molecules inside a dish on the table beside mine, reacting with a million others to only produce a trillion of their progeny, invisible to the naked eye, very much like themselves, only to divert my attention to mull over something that has been going on in my head, for over 3 years – Can one really trust this subject we call science ? (I am very possessive about this question of mine and I do not expect answers from anyone. Sorry if that sounded rude :\) Passion for science can make a person cold and numb, almost zombie-like. Research is the butcher’s-knife that lackadaisically slaughters the simplicity in things, that needs to be appreciated.

When I look at a yellow flower, I wouldn’t want to analyze its calyx or corolla or the pigmentation mechanisms that coloured its petals yellow, I would want to simply appreciate that shade and smile, when I see rain droplets slide down those creamy yellow petals. I would want to see a rat curl up cosily in a corner and not think about how food deprivation has resulted in lethargy and analyse its behaviour, thereafter. I want to be happy,wondering about how different people can be and how many diverse feelings and interests they can shelter. I wouldn’t want to think about plasticity and reticular formation when I see a person and realize his interests are in no way similar to mine.

When people ask me questions like  what do you think hostel life is all about, I answer “hostel life is all about missing the worst possible Godhumai Ravai Upma“. It takes one month of Roti-Aloo sabzi to make one appreciate Karuveppalai thogayal served in Saravana Bhavan (or any other Karuveppalai thogayal, for that matter)

I felt Humayun’s tomb (and Isa Khan’s tomb) was much more enchanting and amorous, when compared to “the” Taj Mahal. Its lush green Char Bagh, the dark and steep staircases, that curve voluptuously to the terrace, the Arab Sarai gate, embellished with overgrown bushes, the domes that exhale the ancient regal air, the balconies, porches, lobbies,terraces and the windows that project the sun and its rays in versatile ways filled me with a weird sense of calm, something that I would like to safely preserve in those imaginary vaults of mine.

I tend to delve into my  mind to fork out the movement of the slender/stubby fingers of someone, when he/she talks, the spiralling of the arches of one’s brow, when he/she emotes, the contortion of the lips, when one is not being noticed, when I think about all those people close to my heart/when I read letters written by them.

Does one month of chocolate deprivation (I volunteered to stay away from chocolates) make one appreciate chocolate even better ? The answer is no. i received 8 bars of chotta 5-star from my grandparents today and I couldn’t appreciate a bar, the way I used to, previously. (Note to self – Try Gems. Isn’t that your favourite chocolate ?)

Nothing like statements like these – “I am pretty sure you’d still write to me and probably even surprise me on my birthday by showing up at my doorstep wherever I may be. You are capable of that, yes you are” and stick diagrams portraying ‘what happens to Nithya when she pats a Nilgai ‘to make your day week month. Love you both.

I am glad I managed to churn out a blog post.