Run, Allan, run!

But he was watching the ball, frozen in his own trepidation and uncertainty. So was Lance Klusener. But the difference was that he was running hard towards Donald. It almost seemed like the two of them were on different pitches, in different matches. And a generation's brittleness came to the fore in a few moments of farcical misjudgment, leaving those who followed in their footsteps to paper over the cracks, even as they tried to believe there were none at all....

If only Allan had run.

Looking in at me, locked inside myself...hmmm

There have been times when I've wished for things in the manner of a man who knows that he has no say in the granting of his desire, and looks at the fulfillment of that desire as a departure from the odds governing its occurrence. In such a scenario, one feels happy if he gets what he wished for, but not too disappointed if he doesn't.

Then there are occasions when I'm very optimistic about the occurrence of an event, which is just a euphemism for saying that I'm certain that it will happen (I'm rather over-optimistic, I think)

A third situation which arises is when my gut feeling tells me that the probability of what I'm wishing for to happen is on the lower side, yet I yearn for its fulfillment with such an unreasoning desire that it scares me to see the ferocity of my own stubbornness. I find myself willing it to happen with all the might of my mental faculties till it blocks out everything else and releases its hold only when the mind gets drained of its capacity to focus on solely one objective. And all this, when sometimes I'm actually powerless to affect the occurrence of the event.

I wonder if you also get the feeling occasionally, that in spite of the fact that it is your brain, and your wishes, yet you are no more than a bystander in the manipulations of the mind. In any case, I suppose that the realisation that something needs to be fixed, is the first step to fixing it, isn't it? :)

Blogging from the classroom: PHYS 580 reloaded

I wrote the following post while attending the lecture of one of my courses, called Biological Physics, about whose instructor, Dr. Mark Goulian, I had mentioned in an earlier post
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April 10, 2007
Lecture Hall 3C6
David Rittenhouse Laboratories
University of Pennsylvania

1041 hrs: I had come to this lecture today with great hopes of finally doing justice to Dr. Goulian (henceforth, Dr. G) and his inimitable teaching. The semester's drawing to a close. I've already studied in another course what we're doing right now, and to top it all, I have 8 hours of solid sleep behind me! Yay!

But so far, it has been a strangely subdued class. The redhead in the 2nd row with the bobbing ponytail and animated expressions looks somewhat sedated. Her friend, the wooden-faced brunette, who normally keeps her hair flowing over her shoulders, has tied it up in a bun, and the stunning AND brainy (yes, that's right) dark-haired girl in the 1st row is having an off day too. No questions from her up to this point...

1049 hrs: The first question of the day from the last mentioned lady! And that is followed by the first collective guffaw from the students. Dr. G has just proven something that looks as convoluted as my DNA (and yours too...), and smells worse than bad fish. But he defuses the tension by capping the derivation with an irreverent "Who cares??!!". For now, I certainly don't, Dr. G!

Not everything looks weird though. Some things are going as they have always gone. The shock-headed guy sitting in front of me and the ABCD to my right look as routinely doped. The poker-faced fellow who always arrives in class with a biking helmet under his arm was 10 minutes late, as always. Good...I like some semblance of order.

Suddenly, Dr. G has a flash of inspiration and jumps on me," Blah, Blah...It was YOU who said that last week, RIGHT?". I take a second to regain my bearings, and affirm his suspicions. He looks as pleased as punch. Maybe I do ask the weirdest questions. I'm quite sure now that he remembers our discussion about ice creams and pluronics...

1101 hrs: Dr. G asks us a question while I'm scribbling this post, and he asks for a vote. The class is as split as the Lok Sabha, showing that it is a thorny matter indeed. I manage to get the answer right even though I had very little inkling as to what the question was :D

1106 hrs: For those of you, who had likened Dr. G to one of those Blue Men group performers who did the Mirinda commercials a few years ago, you're wrong. This guy beats them hands down. And he gets my thumbs up for doing it while talking about rate constants, rectifiers, binding proteins and beam theory all in a single sentence!!!

1113 hrs: Dr. G is also an accomplished cartoonist, and he uses the chalk and board extensively while teaching. In my opinion, it's a great gift to have when you're teaching something as visually involved as Biological Physics. he's talkign about proteins being pumped into lipid vesicles made from Endoplasmic Reticulum, and the whole class is listening, captivated. It is a wonder how superbly, and intuitively the living world works, apparently spontaneously, yet seamlessly, and Dr. G does a superb job of bringing it to us. And if you consider that this guy started out as a Theoretical Physics person at Harvard, and today he does experiments in Molecular Biology, you should be impressed. Even if you aren't sure if you should, take it from me. This guy is amazing!

1129 hrs: This is interesting, it really is. The engaging thing about discussing models is that they always leave the door open for doubters to ignore the advances in understanding made by the model and concentrate on pointing out the gaps instead. That's not a bad thing in itself, because it's only when we are sceptical, do we try to find better answers. Dr. G is certainly doing his bit, by fielding our inane questions, and treating them seriously too!

1136 hrs: In some ways, it's been a disappointing class because we've laughed hard only twice in just over an hour. Pity. And one of those occasions seemed more like an attempt to get the ball rolling. It didn't succeed. Dr. G isn't brooding or anything, though. Maybe he just had too much (or too little?) breakfast :D

1140 hrs: The windows of 3W6 give a panoramic widescreen view of perhaps one of the most pretty parts of the university, with the Penn Tower, the Franklin Field (our football stadium) and the classical-looking Towne Building all jostling for eyeballs. If I look a little lower, there's a grassy area with a tree (maybe magnolia, I'm not sure) laden with blossoms. There are wooden benches and squirrels, and in the early summer, you would find several people having their lunch there. Next to that area are Penn's tennis courts, where the women's team is practising right now. Enough said. I'm sure you get my drift. ;)

1146 hrs: Dr. G looks at the clock behind my head for the first time today. I must confess: I'm desperately hungry. There's only so much I can do on just a glass of milk. I'm sorry.

1150 hrs: And we're through for the day. I'm off for lunch. But before that, let me put on record that when I've finished the course, I will surely miss Dr. G and PHYS 580!

The Feel of Music

I'm very opinionated and at the same time, very attached to my music. I tend to form correlations of people, times and places with songs very strongly, and even if I try, I am never able to shake off those links. For example, I haven't listened to Linkin Park and most of Enigma and Bryan Adams for about 3 years, and there is no sign that that will change.

On the other hand, there are some songs with which I am able to recall the best times of my life, and the uplifting effect of those songs is simply amazing. However, I've often wondered if it possible for a song to have the same effect on everybody who listens to it. I have a candidate for such a song. You can find it here

It's a song called Appalachian Fall by DJ Sammy, and is completely instrumental. I'll be keeping it uploaded for a few days, before removing it. Do let me know how you liked it, and whether it had the same effect on you as it has had on me, every single time I've heard it.