Im in Heaven, I'll show you Heaven...

Some memories stay
some tastes linger and
some fragrances never fade away.

I am not speaking metaphorically here. Certain things just came to my mind the other day that I thought would be worth 'penning'.
Best holiday - (one of the best holidays at least!) the memories of this will stay forever! Gals trip out to Waiheke Island. Three days of total bliss, wining n dining, absolutely fantastic beachside house atop a hill and marvelous views of the ocean stretching out before us. We laughed till we cried, stayed up all night talking about things inconsequential, cooked hearty meals and spent hours at the beach generally being silly! Those were truly the days!
Most of all we made memories to last a lifetime.

Best Fragrance - Moonflower! I dont remember the exact circumstances of my rendezvous with this perfume from the Body Shop (which is very very odd because I remember every little obscure event in my life!) which just goes to show, I guess, how this fragrance can completely and totally overpower you. It can fill your senses up to the point where you absolutely must own it! Which I do now, thanks to a birthday gift from a friend!
For a while I did think that it was just something that I found appealing. When my friends came from Auckland, we were window-shopping and I casually mentioned it outside Body Shop so we naturally walked in to take a whiff. That moment nailed it! It was not just me - It was most people! The fragrance of wild 'moonflower' with an almost imperceptible hint of musk and a summery charm. I find it irresistable!

Best taste - We contemplated ordering dessert at an Italian restaurant last night. We don't normally order dessert as we are too full from entrees (we order those because they are served quickly and satisfy the growling stomach!) and fuller still from the dinner itself! However, Tiramisu was on the menu.
Now I did argue that it couldnt possibly hold a candle to the 'Belgian chocolate waffles' at Max Brenner.
As and aside the 'waffles' story: On a trip to Melbourne I was suffering from severe stomach cramps for no reason that I could think of. Having spent all morning and most of the afternoon in bed I had to leave to get the bus back to dreary ol' Canberra. With an hour or so to kill, our friend (who now I understand was an angel in disguise!) herded us into Max Brenner chocolate cafe. I had never heard of this heaven on earth and as the magic unfolded I threw caution to the wind and decided to indulge in the Belgian Chocolate Waffles! I guess the Heavens smiled at me and all of the universe joined in an Irish tap-dance as I consumed the entire plate. First thing I had eaten all day and the stomach cramps as if never existed!
Back to Tiramisu, it did hold that candle after all and how! I read once that Tiramisu was described as 'the dessert of the Gods' - Welcome to heaven y'all!

Summer Rain

Imagine this -
Drizzle over the cricket field. Rain coming down on the trees and turning green everything it touches. The leaves glisten, the ducks frolic in the stream and the brances sway as if to the music of the wind. The earth is fragrant with fresh summer rain. The brook overflows and people bustle about in colourful umbrellas. The sky is a dusky hue and threatens a storm, twinkling mischievously. And then it comes! The skies unleash their torrent upon us and the rain beats down on man and beast alike.
The rains pass and everything looks fresh and new. The air is crisp without the chill and a tormentingly hot afternoon has instantly transformed into a pleasant, breezy and comfortable evening. Such was the scene on campus today. One would feel blessed to have witnessed such marvels of nature. I saw it all but sadly had no appreciation - my shoes had chosen to soak in the rain you see - and worse still, so had my socks!

Creatures of habit

Stress is a foreign concept. Foreign i.e non-Indian.
The critical will most certainly ask how I can make such a bold claim having not lived the better part of my life in my country of birth (they of course do not count my first 15 years as 'better' part of life!).
Anything Indian - sells. From kurtis to Kiran Desai. Incidentally, several Indian born authors of books on very Indian themes Booker prize winners, have lived the better part of their lives overseas. Returning to the motherland for weddings, funerals and to write their books!
I write for pleasure - my own not others'. My policy is 'Write like no one's reading'. I guess the idea of writing this in a blog for the world to read is slightly contradictory.
Started reading Carl Sagan's 'Pale Blue Dot' last week. I never watched the acclaimed 'COSMOS' series on TV but I read as much of Carl Sagan as I could get my hands on. Him and I seemed to share a 'cosmic connection' in that we both think that 'we' are inconsequential in terms of the cosmos. And 'we' give ourselves much more credit than we deserve. The vastness of the universe is humbling to say the least.
I had a thought as I sat in my weekly Monday morning meeting with others of the research group. We were going over the list of things to do this week (and forever more as it were!) and the general idea is to go around the table and ask each one to explain what they did (or did not do!) the previous week, the plan for the week to follow etc. I sat there listening to everyone speak and my gaze wandered from person speaking to picture of a 'research highlight' (the space thruster developed here at ANU) showing the gizmo amidst stars of the night sky.
I wanted to get up and ask one question - why? Why measure nonlinearities or make compositions - if we go back far enough we really don't know why? We are up against the wall of 'because that is how it has been for hundreds of years and we know no reason to change it, we are creatures of habit'.

Arey Deewano -

"DON को पकद्ना मुश्िकल ही नही नामुम्िकन् है ..."
Nearly 30 years (?) after the Big B immortalised this phrase in his much acclaimed performance as the DON, SRK dons the garb and is all set to make it his own - again.
I must say that I didn't expect much from this remake and was quite ready to do the ritualistic movie bashing post the theatre viewing.
Don exceeded all my expectations and not just because I had none. True, the movie was too long and the plot much to intricate but the adaptation to modern times is done beautifully. The one thing I thought would be the ultimate disaster instead proved the ultimate clincher - khaike paan banaras wala. To re-do this song, the dance, the voice of Kishore Kumar and above all the image of AB Sr. so ingrained in every Indian's memory to me seemed a Herculean task. However, they haven't tried to re-do it at all! Except the song itself the whole situation is different and has a very vibrant and refreshing aspect about it.
Now to SRK and his portrayal - the SRK image is something that every movie rides on. He makes up for the lack of Bachchan like personality by giving each scene his all and each song has a certain energy about it that makes you want to get off your seat and dance along.
This is not to say that I expect all remakes to be at par. Umrao Jaan with Ash and Sholay with God alone knows who - I have no hopes for.

Success?

My friend Megz sent me this quote:

Success: To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded!

Now, most of the quote is very inspirational and to me it seemed to define a life well lived, except for one bit of it - '...to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child...'. I beg to differ slightly on this point.
I am not going to argue for or against this statement. I am only going to give my opinion on some aspects of it. This blog is not for the discerning types, who would say that I am reading too much into a quote meant to convey a general impression, why dwell on the specifics or for the stereo-types who consider that children are God's gift to mankind so make as many as you can or even for those who are unwilling to look at an issue from a practical point of view because they are creatures of habit. This quote triggered a, previously dormant, thought process.
Having a sick child can change one's life, but it does not and should not mean that you have left the world worse off in any way. In fact I have had discussions and thought about this issue of why people have children. Is it the inherent instinct to reproduce and ensure that your genes (how ever terrible they may be!) continue to live on (which, it has been scientifically proven, is a necessity for men and it is left upto the women to impose quality over quantity) or is it something deeper more like the sense of nurturing life and making another being in your image. I dont really know and I dont think anyone knows because it is probably individual specific.
There are millions of children around the world, as World Vision and CCF never fail to remind us by showing us the slums of India, who could do with a life (better or worse). It really wasn't their fault that they were born into this rapidly deteriorating world and really it isn't their fault that they are left to die. So, even with these millions needing one square meal a day (a home, an education etc. are 'door ki baat') the middle, upper middle and upper classes continue to make more of their own - maybe because who wants some random kid, wonder what caste it is, who its parents were/are.
The world as a whole, and not just China and India, faces a population crisis, there are more people than resources and just like we believe that one Green Bag is a step closer to a plastic free world, one less child could, potentially, feed one already born.
This is not to say that people and organisations are not trying - they are. But bringing a healthy child into this world does not amount to, in today's scenario, leaving a better world behind you. To me it amounts to bringing another life to fight a daily battle against the adversities and increasing the population by one more - when you could have changed another, existing life, for the better.

Biking - a way of life!

The day has been a satisfactory one, barring the extreme heat. Maybe 35 degrees on the Celsius scale is not 'hot' by Canberra standards but it most certainly is scorching by Auckland standards. Spring is almost out and summer is about to rear its ugly head. I am not one for extremities, be it of the emotional kind or the climate kind. Moderate is my thing, which explains why I like melons (honeydew, rockmelon, watermelon) they're mild flavours. None of that sour pineapple for me!
Ive started biking to work again. For those of you who missed me bragging about my new bike earlier this year - well the picture is worth a thousand words. Avanti Blade Sport Fitness Bike y'all!
Cycling, apart from its obvious physical benefits (overall fitness, nice legs for summer shorts yada ya) teaches one a lot about life.
For eg. imagine you are cycling in peak hour (ok peak hour rush has a whole different meaning in Canberra, you could wait for 15 mins and the roads will be deserted again!, but for argument's sake let's assume that you have to bike in that 15 min interval when the human being + car count on the road is more than the fingers and toes!), cycling is very popular in Canberra, roads even have cycle lanes. You're on the pavement, weaving your way through people and prams when suddenly there is another cyclist coming towards you, narrow pavement and you are the indecisive sort. You move right, he moves right then u change your mind - Crash!
I am the indecisive sort. And a very nervous rider. My $80 dollar second hand bike sufficed a year ago when I lived a stone's throw from the university. However, living farther now, I bought a new bike ten times the price and to the say the least it took some effort to become moderately competent with it.
Cycling teaches you about decision making. It also teaches you patience. The first day cycling to work was all excitement. New bike, new helmet - by the time I got to work even though I didnt have an ounce of energy left I felt content! Second day - not so great. The initial excitement had been replaced by muscle fatigue and the old injured knee wasnt too pleased either. Even so, for the money spent, if not anything else I biked to work. Cycling teaches you about perseverence It is not enjoyable for a while but becomes easier with time. Much like life and this PhD!
Overcoming the pain barrier comes next. The cycle seat ain't exactly a leather couch and so after you get past the awkward questions of 'Why are you walking funny?' you have to use every bit of resolve you have to ride back home! This too comes to pass in due time.
To those who will learn, it can also teach you not to procrastinate. The ride to work will take you a half hour no matter how fast you go (you can only go so fast without causing damage!) hence time management in the morning.
Last but in no way the least there's that wonderful feeling of the wind in your hair (ok in your helmet!) and a sense of freedom, not to mention that you will be much fitter than your counterparts at 55!
I advocate cycling completely now. Thank you to my friend who took me, in spite of resistance, to buy my first bike. I owe you one!

"My dear and unfortunate successor...

...to you I bequeath, my history"
The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
my read of the month!
I bought this book at Sydney airport, before boarding a flight to Middle Earth. Started reading it straight away and only finished it last night. It took a while-yes, it is a big book, yes, Scrumptious I like to call 'em big books. 600-700 pages is a substantial amount, very ....filling!
A few thoughts on this book. I wish I could write like that! I will not include much of the story so as to avoid a spoiler but the gist of the book is clear to anyone who reads the synopsis. Dracula is back.
I remember when I read Bram Stoker's Dracula. It did give me the chills and no I was not twelve! Dracula, from what little I choose to remember of it, was eerie. The book succeeds in creating an uncomfortable atmosphere and one where, if you happen to be reading it after nightfall, the creaking of the wood could, potentially, send chills up the spine as it were.
The Historian is Dracula's rebirth in today's world. Kostova brings to life this 'undead' legend. The book does not offer much in the way of a plot. Although, it does once again score high for facts and research. The hunt through Eastern Europe is fascinating and full of information hitherto unknown, atleast to me. One could say 'whats new, its what they do, look at Dan Brown' but hold your horses everyone - Kostova can write! She has a beautiful grasp of the English Language and a certain amount of restraint in her style which allows one to read more than the written words. Unlike Brown, whose only saving grace was sensationalism and an age-old debate, Kostova's exemplifies the basics of book writing - language!
I cannot say that this was the best book I ever read, it wasn't by a long shot. But it was gripping nonetheless, eerie and very well written.
I liked The Da Vinci Code as a work of pure fiction, a figment of the author's overactive imagination and no one can succeed in convincing me otherwise. In fact I feel that Dan B could have avoided a lot of negative publicity and book-bashing had he chosen not to associate his book with any facts whatsoever!
Anyhow, read The Historian people, it is a lovely sequel to Dracula, even if it wasnt intended as one. It is not very often that someone comes up with a line fit to become a classic in modern literature - 'My dear and unfortunate successor...'

Womens Self Defence

How many times, Oh! How many times have you said to yourself, if only I had listened to my mother! I know I say it to myself a few times everyday!
My family tries to live by one rule - Mom's! One thing I have learned is that if my mother told me, without any explanation whatsoever, to jump off a cliff, I should do so without as much as questioning her.
So in this vein I finally enrolled for the 'Women's self defence' classes at uni, which mind you, my mother has been telling me to do ever since I moved to Canberra.
My sister and I rocked up to the first lesson on a Monday evening at 7. It had been a long day and I really wasn't in the mood to listen to some butch woman telling me 100 ways to kick a guy in the ****, when I could be home eating food and watching Tele.
I was jolted out of this disinterest by one look at the instructor. Out with the butch woman and in with a preppy, young and, I must add, very very fit kung-fu- martial arts type. The first lesson passed much too fast. We learned the basics, which was that kicking a guy in the groin was not the first option in a life threatening situation and there were much better ways of rendering an assailant inert - sure fire ways too!
I left feeling refreshed, energised and almost believing that 'my body is a dangerous weapon - nobody better mess with me!'. This is what good teaching is all about, turning cynics into believers and turning sarcasm into admiration.
The instructor really believed in what she was teaching and she never failed to impress upon us the importance of doing something in a threatening situation - be it screaming at the top of your lungs or gouging the guys' eyes out! Anything at all because, contrary to common hearsay, reacting does not fuel the situation it can save one's life. We had the last class this week and I was not glad to go, as I had thought I would be. This only reinforced my belief that my mother is always right, even from across the Tasman!
Some thoughts on self-defence in Canberra:
1. Screaming is useless because no one will hear you - there is no one to hear you!
2. If you run into the closest house for help you will most likely be chased and bitten by a dog, so take your pick - man or beast.
3. You could possibly out-walk the drunk, racist, homeless guy who is yelling at you so don't beat him to pulp, just walk away!
4. If you live anywhere other than mid-city you are more likely to be attacked by a kangaroo (as my sister said so wisely) than any man, hence keep those boxing gloves handy!

Light amplification - unleashing a monster!

I have a way with lasers..... a way of making them not work! Sitting in my lab, been here since Monday (ok this is where I work so it makes sense) but making progress still seems a like a long shot. Lasers do no behave, they are inconsistent and moody. Their whims and fancies can drive anyone up the wall and really they have no notion of temperature control. I vote all lasers be fitted with a hypothalamus and a very strong conscience. Something that says to them 'DONT DO IT' when they are about to run amok and ruin a poor student's life (ok I exaggerate, maybe a week!). A laser does not understand the simple concept that weather changes. Cool may come and heat may go but you must go on forever! It is a very simple concept really. Humans are not allowed the privilege of changing with the weather (changing oneself not one's outfit!). Quite honestly it is not an excuse.
Anyhow, back to the point of this blog. Im a firm believer, or rather I was a firm believer in the concept of 'when God closes a door somewhere he opens a window'. Well I realise now that if one with full knowledge of the consequences chooses to work in a lab with no windows, and the door remains closed all the time... well... need I say more.

Home for the holidays!

Many a person has said to me 'Home is where is heart is' but to me Home takes on an entirely new meaning when one lives away. It is no longer the place you have to go back to, but rather somewhere you want to go!
Home is familiar, you can wake up in the morning and in a half-asleep state pick up your brush and you can be sure as hell that the toothpaste will be where it was yesterday. No muddling flatmate would have made off with it, or thrown it away or worse still, replaced it with shaving cream! The face-towel is always accessible and the bat mat is always in place.
Home is where the couch is positioned such that one can always lie on it and still see the TV just fine and there is always junk food to pig out on. Home has a warmth about it (even in winter!!).
Of course one cannot be expected to appreciate these things when one lives at home! However, one becomes more appreciative when Home is just a pleasant (10 day!) break from a hectic routine.
I went home for the holidays. I could put up photographs of home with my family smiling artificially for the sake or the camera, but really all that matters is that they are there!!

This one's for you ....

Its just like mom to set me near impossible tasks - like washing the dishes properly or eating breakfast or packing lunch, and now this, writing about my thoughts on being brought up in 'The Family'. "...you can be brutally honest" she said. So here goes. Two words come rushing to mind - Tough Love!
I am a Prasad. In this case it means a weird 'Tiwari-Rao" concoction! I will, in this blog, only elaborate what it means to be a Prasad in the Prasad family and not go into the broader, extended version (we could well be the Corleones!).
Anyone who understands the true meaning of tough love would appreciate this. Our parents love my sister and I - fiercely! It is not the kind of love that makes you dependent on them but rather the kind that makes you want to get out there and do things! It is not a warm blanket but rather an armour. It doesnt make you go fuzzy on the inside but rather steels you to face anything and come out victorious. We have been taught to fill time, not telling one another how beautiful life is, but how much better it can be and how one must strive hard to get there. Sometimes there is no time for niceties and other times there is impatience and intolerance of mediocrity but most of the time there is a yearning for creative outcomes. When one is seven or even seventeen one cannot appreciate this 'conform or cease' atmosphere but when the mind (and not just the body!) reaches twenty seven one understands that it was all with good intent. I was the child, so of course I took it all the wrong way! Of course my parents favoured my sister more, of course I was never allowed to do as I pleased, eat or wear what I wanted and go when and wherever I wished. What I see now is that it was a restraining love but never a constraining one. We were taught to make our own constraints but restraint was dictated to us - and we followed, albeit grudgingly at times.
My father once told me that 'the soldier has not been abandoned in the battlefield, he has been given all the arms to fight - and win' and indeed we have!
I will not go into what I have learned from my parents - if it is only that I want to be like them, I think it enough. People learn different things from their families - mostly for the best.
I can almost see my mother shaking her head at this blog and thinking that I was being much too 'flowery' for the benefit of my readers, but just for my parents - Thanks Mummy and Baba!!
btw Happy Anniversary!

It seems the Hindi movie watching world is divided - into people that loved 'Kabhi Alvida...' and people that hated it.
Love it or leave it, this movie has really got the Industry buzzing. The issue of infidelity has, no doubt, been dealt with before. Some critics say that they were unable to identify with the characters, others complained that the plot was not thick enough and even others ranted about the lack of 'dark'ness surrounding this supposedly 'dark' topic! (Im sure that people who go out and have an extra-marital affair, even if in the 'dark' per se, rarely think so at the time!).
One review I really liked, approached the movie in a very mature way - it said that the movie entertains but one comes out not liking it much - so basically watch it but you won't like it! Which is pretty much 'nail on the head'.
A lot of critisisms seem based on people's liking or otherwise of the actors and not really the characters they play. Many thought that Rani Mukerji had no character, I thought that it was her character to have no character! (Maybe I missed something 'deeper'!)
People like RM's character do exist, although I do hope for their sake, that they do not end up with people like SRK's character! I mean ideally they should shoot each other as it is just a disaster waiting to happen!
But coming back to the character - hygiene obsessed (its genetic believe me!), frustrated, pining, sad-sack! Such people are all around us, all we need to do is look and listen hard! People that take pleasure in self-pity, Hell! I take pleasure in self-pity, it is a lovely place to be in. One doesnt have to do a thing, because its a comfort zone. The lack of something to make your life exciting enough - albeit your own doing- seems reason enough to mope!
Such people need to be shaken out of it! An extra-marital affair will not cure this state of mind. In fact I think sympathy makes it worse. You will hate someone (momentarily) for telling you to snap out of it, but when you do (snap!) its like ... magic!
Personally, I have no sympathy for people who indulge in extra-marital affairs. One relationship is complicated enough without adding another to the equation, n'est-ce pas?

Write me this.

My supervisor asked me to start writing my first scientific journal publication. This task has been weighing down on me. My friend said that it should be fairly easy as writing, supposedly, comes easy to me. Scientific writing is different.
If I had to describe my work in literary terms I might say:
" It was the day of culmination! All those hours of fruitless labour, the hour, the moment in fact, of truth had arrived. I put in the sample and it glowed almost with a surreal aura about it. The laser beam was almost a pure Gaussian and the image was the stuff dreams were made of. 15 minutes passed by like an eternity and finally it was time to get the numbers! One by one, like the pieces of a puzzle, it all came together to complete the picture of non-linearity!"
And then maybe I could put some numbers in for those that cared. But of course no self-respecting scientific journal peer review group is going to look at that and say 'wow! she has really brought out the essence of that experiment'! My 'paper' will be duly deposited in the recycle bin.
Hence, I need to be dreary and account painstakingly all the dull details such as beam width and laser frequency. I cannot use flowery language to describe the beauty of the laser light but rather I must speak precisely about its wavelength and rep rate!
Alas! the woes of scientific study. I never cease to pity these scientific types for missing out on the beauty of language - what the Journal of Applied Physics would be were I to write it!

Another KANK rant

Writing about KANK seems to be the thing to do - for anyone who has half an opinion about this movie. So why bother with another (S)KANK blog? Well because its a free world and we are all entitled to, not only our, but also others' opinions on matters that, well, really dont matter!
Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna is another Karan Johar flick with 'substance' (or should it be 'on' substance!).
I am not going to go into why one wouldnt like a movie where two losers are responsible for two failed marraiges and end up in a relationship with each other, which is doomed for failure from the word go!
Some factors worth considering:
1) SRK is a pitiable loser whose ($5 million) career was abruptly ended when he sustained an injury - while trying to contemplate some surreal 'connection' with another woman, who was not his wife (and not watching the road because he was too busy waiting for this other woman to turn around for a very DDLJ moment!). Good on that car driver, if it was me, I might have reversed a few times to make sure I didnt leave the job half done!

2) Rani Mukerji personifies the word 'loser'. Full credit to KJ for 'building' her 'character' or the lack of it thereof. She has a massive chip on her shoulder for being unable to bear children and amidst her self pity and unfulfilled life as it were, she doesnt realise that she has a gem of a husband and ends up ruining something good. Such people, in the real world, need therapy not a song!

3) I am unsure as to where KJ's movies are heading. First there was K3G, where the issue of marriage between 2 people from different socio-economic backgrounds was dealt with. Then were was KHNH, where a dying man professing his love for a woman and hands her over to this other guy - they live happily ever after even though the woman's love for dead man never wanes! And now we have KANK - extramarital affairs. All for the greater good, KJ might say. But I think there is more to it than meets the eye. Is KJ just gearing us up, slowly for a 'out-of-the-closet' type (I hope to God it doesnt star SRK and Saif Ali Khan!). Because if this is the case, mark my words all of you out there - I wish KJ would just 'come out' with it and save us the agony of more 'Kabhi..'s and 'Kal...'s.

Now that I have vented some of my bitterness - I must say that the songs are darned catchy! Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy are really a class apart! The Rock'n'Roll really did!!

A lot of movies rant and rave about relationships. Think about it, animals don't marry because, plain and simple - they are not as evolved. Whether evolution has handed us the short straw or not, we have yet to see, but any relationship is a gamble. All this talk of soul-mates and matches made is heaven, to me, seem futile.
The eternal question still hangs - what is love? - Maybe all we need to do is wait for Mr. Johar to answer that!

Soaking in the Sun

A direct consequence of being cooped up in a dark lab in the basement (no less!) for close to 10 hours a day can be severe Vitamin D deficiency (osteo-something-or-the-other). So I decided to soak in the warm spring (or soon to be!) sun.
Now, Canberra does not give one much in the way of winter sun. Apparently just walking around in the sun and getting sunburned does not count as upping one's levels of Vit D to the required. It involves things more complicated like the warm sun rays actually touching the skin (shock horror!). One option (suggested by a good friend, sadistic nonetheless) might be streaking in the middle of the afternoon, across South Oval, running at or close to the speed of light etc. so no one notices you in your birthday suit whilst you make merry soaking in the required amount of supplement. However, it is a few million decades before this even becomes an option, let alone a reality!
Anyhow, so the Physicist comes out of lab, looks in either direction suspiciously. Two polarisers are stuck to the prescription glasses to serve as makeshift sunnies. Contemplates wrapping full body in aluminium foil to prevent sunburn!?! but decides against it (for all the wrong reasons!).
I walked across South Oval, actively avoiding anything with webbed feet. Towards union court, where all the food lives.
A friend offered me something to read on the walk! I declined politely, as I might bump into someone or worse still fall into the duck-infested creek and make for them a long-awaited decent meal. For the want of something better from my life, something more meaningful than watching light distort itself while passing through a material of my choice (any material! do you realise how powerful that must feel!) - I took a walk!

A Must Read

Why write? is a question that has plagued my mind for a fair while. Some people write things to remember them, others write to put things into perspective and even others (like yours truly) write because they want to!! :-D - a bold statement that!
The last book I read was 'Fermat's last theorem' by Simon Singh. It absolutely and completely lives upto its reputation. Truly, it takes you on a roller coaster ride through time, where one moment you are sitting alongside Fermat, chuckling with him while he silently reveals the problem to the world. You are then transported through time to Andrew Wiles and witness to his sheer frustration during a lifetime committed to solving the 'Last Theorem'. No other book has made me want to do Mathematics more than this one. That is not to say that I want to do it enough to actually do something about it, but this was the first book that made me feel like I had half a brain where Maths was concerned.
Prior to 'Fermat..." I always came away from Mathematics (be it a book, an exam or even a puzzle!) feeling like an idiot. Plain and simple. In fact it seems like a global phenomenon that children, students and young adults fear the subject (although I am unsure as to whether Physics wins out on the sheer horror factor!). My initiation to Maths was not pretty and to cut a long story short, I never liked it. I thought that all Mathematicians were sadistic fiends (like the person who wrote our seventh form Calculus exam! Hope someone sued him!) and they delighted in the idea of tormenting young minds. However my perception had to change, now I think that some, not all, Mathematicians conform to the above.
The aforementioned book opened up a whole new world. One in which ... wait for it... they were actually human and (much less frequently than I) experienced periods of despair and frustration. Ok, so they experience it over Fermat and I over 3 x 7 (I will never forget that 3 x 7 = 21; it was whacked into me!!) yet I feel an instant connection.
However, the point about all this ranting and raving is that - go buy this book and read it and I would be very interested to know if you, like me, wouldnt classify it as 'unputdownable'.

Workshop and Whales

It is very difficult to sit in a lab and spout Shakespeare. In fact I would consider it almost impossible. Shakespeare requires, demands rather, a more suave and philosophical atmosphere. Im thinking - diffused lights, wine and banter ...
Last week was a culmination of all my work of the last few months and in saying that I really mean that I, along with other people from work, was shipped off to a seaside resort. None of that secret agent kinda thing, more like a lot of Physicists gathered to 'chat' about 'theories' and 'practical application'.
Whale watching was on the agenda and although this could well mean sitting around gawking at more 'well fed' members of the group, it actually involved going out into the water on a ferry yacht type and looking around for 'there she sprays!!'.
The experience itself was exhilarating! I love the water and everything it has to offer, this does not mean I take a shower ten times a day, it more like I love wandering on the beach, the calm waters extending far beyond the horizon, watching the sunlight shine off the ripples and generally enjoying the peace of it all. I also prefer vast expanses of water unadulterated by sky scrapers on the horizon and Hervey Bay, Queensland offered just this!
Now to the whales. What size!! One should be astounded and humbled by these massive creatures who inhabit the deep, dark oceans. Their speed can be deceptive though, they are gone as fast as they come!
Physicists are funny whale watchers. The tour guide said to us in no unclear terms "whales respond to noise so make some and wave your arms around and they will come to you" and we, the physicists, stood there listening and sort of nodded and acknowledged the information and stored it away in the 'useless trivia' part of our brain. There was no noise and even less arm waving!
The whales still came and showed us that nature extends far beyond the realms of Maxwell and Electromagnetism.

Im running out of time to breathe! If He came to me right now and said "Alright Missy, time to move onto the 'other world', chop chop"I would have to say to Him - "Lord Almighty, I have about 15 Z-scans to finish that were due yesterday, a few bills to pay, 3 meetings, a netball game and a self defence class so, I don't think this is a good time!".
I need a crash course in time-management. A bloody good one! Tell me who here has time to do everything and still have that half hour or so before bed, to write a blog, read a book or just -to be! And, does it not strike you as odd, that all the people that did not have time for a 'hello' now have time for full fledged hour long conversations! The irony of it all!

Travels and Tribulations

A friend told me to recount my travelling experiences in a blog. Once again I shall refer my readers to a previous post, enlightening them of my sheer despair at the thought of travelling, let alone the actual undertaking of a journey.
When I finished my undergrad, I took up a PhD. The feeling was one of comfort and like a warm blanket knowing (rather hoping!) that I wouldnt have to travel much (ok home to work one cannot avoid even if it is Canberra!) and I could spend three years, or more, of my life cooped up in the warmth, isolation and familiarity of a lab. ITS ALL A FACADE - PHD STUDENTS HAVE TO TRAVEL! Woe is me.
So anyhow, back to my conquests for this month - turns out June-July-August are 'conference months'. Come end of June everybody's bags are packed in anticipation of a paid holiday of sorts. Days filled with pointless lectures (of which only about 5% have to do with your work!), filling dinners and flowing alcohol. Great!
So, first getaway spot was sunny Brisbane, or so Ive heard. While Canberrians froze in sub-zero temperatures, Brisbanites were takin out their light jackets for an 18 degree breeze! Flight into Brisbane was uneventful (although, I must say one cannot appreciate a cold breakfast at 6.30 am in Canberra winter!). Upon arrival weather was satisfactory and we all headed to UQ for the conference. Ok, so given that the first 2 conferences I attended as a PhD student were at the Sky City Hotel (5 star no less!) and The Hilton Sydney - UQ unfortunately could not hold a candle.
However, such minor lapses as 'no tea upon arrival' can be overlooked in the light of bigger things such as - the conference!
Now people often ask me why I am paranoid about travelling, the reason is simple. When one travels one needs to put up with things. I am out of my comfort zone and hence I must bear everything that is thrown at me with a stiff-upper-lip and a smile to boot.
The accomodation was pathetic in Brisbane! Common toilets and showers! *uggghhh* and Brisbanians think that the room doesnt need heating even when temps hit about 5 deg C in the night! Anyhow, I think i must put an end to this ranting and raving because a week and a half later I was enjoying myself in beautiful, 'has character' Melbourne, 4 star accomodation, good food and the like. Bliss.... I guess one must have the bad to appreciate the good. However, in all that Brisbane had to offer I had a wonderful time at the conference and with two of my friends who made the trip one to remember!

Aha! Take that all you cynics of my writing style!

I just didn’t know how to begin. The words, the thoughts, the lines, they came and went and with them they brought and took away a million feelings a million times. I was not ‘consistent’ they said. ‘Consistent’ is a strange thing to be as one learns one must change every second. Survival is adaptation so ‘consistent’ I was not – did not want to be.
Poetry, I thought. Rhyme and rhythm. That amazing combination of words that express emotions unsaid and sights unseen with such laconic expertise that it bewildered. It had to be poetry. There must be poetry. Yet there was none…as yet. And if it were to be then I must write it.
This was a disturbing conclusion so I ignored it. For writing was something of the past. The rhyme had deserted me and the rhythm no longer beat in the freely flowing words. So I turned to words. Just plain words with no frills. And then there was the abstract. That which was known yet unknown and that which was above all loved because it left all but a slight notion to the imaginative mind. Was this an option when I wanted to make myself clear? To make myself heard and most importantly understood.
The fact of the simple matter was, I did not know. Did not know what was to come. What had passed and what was now. Yet there was no sense of foreboding. No uncertainty for that had passed too. With no help from the world I might add.
And then it nagged again. Something between thought and feeling, somewhere between mind and heart. So elusive that even though it was within me I was unable to grasp it. Even though its origins lay in, possibly, the deepest darkest recesses of that unknown part of me, it was as swift as the most fleeting glance.
It turned the day into night and the night into a gloom cast. It made the laughter artificial and it made the heart heavy and the mind dysfunctional and dull. It nagged at joy and boosted the sorrow. What was it, this creature? So illusory yet so effectual.

Something between thought and feeling
Lay somewhere between heart and mind
In swirls of darkness hopes were reeling
Till solace those illusions did find
Its origins lay in the deepest,
Farthest part of the soul we had
Illuminated were the recesses darkest
With memories sad and glad
Strands of thought formed from the mist
Of reason and belief, they stood
Alone and apart from the rest
Enshrouded beneath the sacred hood.
The Holy Grail, it has been lost
And the purest blood has flowed
The boundaries of faith, they have been crossed
The seeds of doubt are sowed
What will become of reason now?
What destiny does lease
We have lost what was ours – and how!
We have shattered the simple peace.
The bonds that hold the world together
Have snapped between you and I
So now there is no forever
It just seems like there is goodbye.