Start with a Sneeze

The term 'Gentleman' is often used to describe any many who exhibits a certain level of culture and courteousness, yet people refer to any male person as gentleman without really knowing the person. I have had the opportunity to meet and talk to one such 'Gentleman' who really made me understand what the term really meant.

 

On the first day of my Undergraduate Course, seated in the corner of the first row was a person who was impeccably dressed in a formal shirt and trousers. While others were immersed in their own thoughts, the Gentleman came up to each person and introduced himself. When he came up to me, I pronounced his name in an improper manner, he took no offense, laughed and then accentuated on the 'H' at the end of his name. When I looked puzzed, he replied that the H should sound like a sneeze. With that Statement began Six years of Friendship and I am yet to meet a person as gentle and chivalrous as him.

 

One day while travelling on a bus, a passenger got up and the seat was empty. I motioned him to sit down. He politely asked the other standing passengers if they wanted a seat and then sat down. When I told him that it was unusual for a person to not occupy a vacant seat immediately. He smiled and replied that he did not necessarily need a seat and that there were other passengers who needed a seat more than he did.

 

While he was the epitome of courteousness, Chivalrousness was another gem in his crown. He respected and treated his male and female classmates with equal importance. This might seem normal to most people, yet it was very different as I was used to chauvinists and this real gentleman treated everyone with importance. He would compliment anyone whenever they needed it. He made me realize that compliments cost nothing for the giver and are invaluable to the receiver.

 

He was an excellent singer and  student par excellence (The only 10 pointer), yet he always remained humble and never boasted or made anyone ever feel inferior. He made each one of us realize that we were good at something.

 

As this Unsung Hero completes another rotation around the sun (His Birthday). I wish him all the best for a bright future.

'A' positive life

I entered the new apartment, my escort introduced me to my new house-mate. I smiled and exchanged pleasantries, and the locket on her neck caught my attention. The locket was a simple one with the letter 'A' engraved on it.

The alphabet 'A' marks the beginning of the English alphabet. Several people give their children names beginning with 'A' as they believe that being ahead in the alphabetical order will give their children an edge over others. Statistically 10% of names are believed to have to begin with the letter A,

Though only a tenth of the population have names beginning with this letter, three-fourth of my friends have names beginning with A. This is because of circumstances and chance.

My brother and I shared initials. Our parents named us with Rhyming names that began with the letter 'A'. We shared a calculator that was marked with our initials. This was planned, but having friends with the same initials is something I never expected.

In the college I pursued my Undergraduate Education in they segregated the freshmen based on the starting letter of their name. As a result my class or 'A' Section was filled with 85 people all having names beginning with the same alphabet. Everytime the roll call was made, it would be utterly chaotic as a number of people would answer to common names like Aditya, Aishwarya, Aarthi etc.

Sometimes two people with the same first name and initial would be present in the class and that would add to more chaos. Instances of mixing of grades were not uncommon. 

Sophomore year was slightly better as we were segregated into our respective departments. I was in the Mechanical Engineering Course and did not have the name problem as I was one among the two girls in the course. The name 'Arun' was very common and 1/8th of my batch had the name. Infact the name Arun Kumar was so common that I had a senior, a classmate and junior by the same name. It so happened that the classmate 'Arun Kumar' and the junior were both friends of mine. This led to my family christening them as 'Thambi' (younger brother) Arun Kumar (For the junior) and Friend Arun Kumar.

My senior and good friend in college (Yet another Arun) had the same initials as mine and many friends also had the same set of initials. It became increasingly difficult to sign with initials as no one could fathom whose initials they were.

The 'A' spree did not end with Undergrad. As I mentioned earlier in the post, my roomie in Singapore also has a name that begins with 'A'. So does one among my two Besties. 

When I look at my medical report or identitiy card, I see the blood group and realize that 'A+' is more symbolic than it seems for some of the most important people in my life have names beginning with 'A'.

Three in One Sachet

Teacher's day is just around and corner and so is Raksha Bandhan. Hence it would be apt to pay tribute to my mentors who have taught me as much as my teachers (if not more), been as supportive as a brother should be and lastly been the friend who will stand by through thick and thin. 

A 3 in 1 sachet of coffee has ground coffee beans, creamer and sugar. The beans give the coffee its aroma and the creamer gives it milkiness. The sugar makes the coffee taste better. Most people are like single ingredients, they offer a single flavour to life. A few add more than one flavour to life by taking multiple roles in your life. My post is dedicated to these 3 in 1 people.

During the first week of college, I met a senior. He was in his final year of Undergrad. I never explicitly told him about my cultural shock at college. I had studied in a girls school and was facing a class with 97% boys for the first time. I was not used to the mug and write technique and could not cope with college well. I do not know how he understood what was running in my head. He once came up to me and asked me if I was alright. I admitted my fears to him and he took over the reins partially from me. He had been through it all and understood my situation better than my kith and kin. He guided me through my college and assured me that it was just a matter of time before I would finish my undergrad. He was right. With his motivation, I managed to excel in college. Though it has been over two since I left college, he continues to keep in touch and mentors me when it is necessary. He was my guardian angel through undergrad.

Once my first mentor graduated from University, the next informal mentor was another senior in college. He was more of a brother than a mentor. If I ever ran into trouble he would be there and give me quick solutions to exit from the situation. He would lend me his books and would cheer me up with his antics. I did not spend much time with him, but every time we met , I had a great time. He does not keep in touch and seldoms talks to me. However I am sure that every time I need him, all I need to do is call and he will be there to bolster me and make me smile.

Undergrad was challenging, but Master's was better. The only thing that dampened my spirits during my Master's was the PhD Admit after my Masters. I had applied to half a dozen universities and all admission committees seemed to dislike my application. My confidence went for a toss. A PhD student in the university coached me through the entire situation. Whenever  I was low, he would offer me a bowl of Kothu Parota (my favourite dish) and that would momentarily lift my sadness away. He would use to opportunity to coach me and get me back on track. His encouragement played a significant role in me getting my confidence boosted and finally resulted in a PhD Admit.

The last person, definitely the most important person is my brother. A sister is born the day her sibling is born and my life till today would not be as meaningful as it has been if not for my brother. Aditya (or Adit as we call him) has taught me a lot and we have learnt a lot from each other. He is my pillar of strength. He unconditionally supports every decision I make and loves me despite my faults. He taught me that we can always fight and patch up with the people we love most.  By teaching him, I learnt things better and he is and will always be my best friend and one of the most important people in my life. Thambi Thanga Kambi ( a younger brother like a piece of gold) does not hold true for him for his influence in my life is far more precious than anything I can ever imagine.

We associate teaching with classrooms and knowledge, but fail to acknowledge those who have impacted our life and taught us life lessons. A big thank you to my guru-bhrathra-mitr 3 in one packages for everything you have done for me.

Happy Teacher's day and Raksha Bandhan in Advance.

Enna tension?

I came across this advertisement for a popular jeweller. The ad practically labelled a 'single' daughter of 'marriageable age' as a tension. Though I did not like the ad, I had to admit that it resonated with the popular mindset that a daughter is a liability or tension that one had to get rid of.

One observation that I have made among my friends is that, several parents rush to get their daughter married citing reasons like retirement, poor health etc. However in the case of Sons' the same does not apply. The sons are given an extra four or five years and the parents do not obsess about their marriage. 

In many cases parents are supportive of their daughters, but even those girls are not spared. In every family function I attend, Several Aunties and Uncle's ask when I plan to marry. Some of these are people I have never met. While asking about one's marriage itself is not okay, some go an extra step by suggesting potential matches. When I say that I am working on my PhD, they say that a girl has to 'settle down'.

The ad I mentioned earlier in the post was floated in order to encourage people to save money to buy gold. Though saving is a good concept, saving in order to blow it away on a daughter's wedding is definitely not a great thing. In order to have a successful marriage, two people need to work their lives out and gold or lavish weddings have no role in ensuring it. Further the groom is also an equal partner in the institution of marriage but the society and media has made it seem like only the girls family is responsible.

Sometimes when people tell me to settle down, I feel like asking what their role in my marital life is going to be. They will talk and push but it is me who has to live it. Since I am the one living it, I believe that I should be completely responsible for the choice I make and not depend on someone else and their choice as what is perceived to be best.

It is obvious that times are changing, but the pace at which we grow is definitely slower than what it should be. If each and everyone of us refuses to change our mindset, hoping others change theirs and as a result the society will change, you are completely mistaken. Several traditions and superstitions have continued only because people have believed them blindly and have continued to impart them to their people. If people continue to believe that girls are a tension that needs to be married off because of society, remember that you are a part of the society and you are contributing to a trend that results in a long vicious cycle.

What's Cooking tonight ??

I initially started this blog to chronicle my experiences in the kitchen. With time my interest in the kitchen wore away primarily due to the absence of a stove. Over time a room-mate began to hog the microwave and induction cook-top. Everytime I wanted to cook I would have to wait, and the waiting time was so long that I would give up and eat outside instead.

After moving into another apartment, I got a renewed interest in the kitchen. We had four burners and three housemates and this was ample for us. It meant that one could simultaneously make a side dish on one burner while the rice was being done on another burner. Alternatively I could take breaks between stirring the sabzi and flipping over the chapati. The food got done in less than half the time it used to take once upon a time.

My roomie and I decided that everyday we would eat atleast one home-made meal and we have been following this for a month now. The experience has been beneficial in several ways. Firstly, we eat more regularly as we do not need to head to a restaurant to eat. Secondly the food is healthier as we bulk it up with more vegetables and less oil. Learning to cook and spending some time in the kitchen chatting with each other is a bonus plus point. Lastly we also have food waiting for us if one of us gets home late as the other would have prepared food earlier.

The only disadvantage of self cooking is the taste for my roomie and I are very nascent to this art. This problem will definitely vanish with time as we have observed our food improve gradually over the last month. 

A Tribute to my hero

Thousands of students and their families waited eagerly to catch a glimpse of the missile man. Several scaled walls to get a fleeting glance. My friend, my teacher and I stood at the gate, eagerly awaiting his arrival. We were lucky, many of the students wanted to meet him, but only two of us were given the necessary permission to do so. We enthusiastically checked out watches and as the clock struck five, a convoy pulled up at our school gate. A barrage of people rushed to meet him but were prevented from doing so. 

I could not believe my eyes. I was seeing my hero in flesh and blood for the first time. As he got off the car, he smiled and walked up to us. He asked me and my friend for our names. He smiled and repeated our names and then shook hands with us. He then asked me what subjects I had chosen to major in and what I intended to become. On hearing my response he smiled and asked the two of us to study well.

My friend brought out a bouquet of orchids and I held a box of cashew nuts in my hand. The former president remarked that he did not eat cashews. My smile vanished at my inability to give him something good. Dr.Kalam, not wanting to disappoint us took the box of cashews and profusely thanked us. He said that he and his assistants would definitely eat some of the cashews. 

The crowd began to swell and Dr.Kalam had to move on to address the gathering. My friend and I stepped back. We stared at our palms in disbelief. We could not believe that we had met Dr.Kalam and felt truly blessed to meet a great legend. 

Several celebrities through their weight around and demand respect. Abdul Kalam is an exception for his gentle demeanour and humility commands respect even from the most disrespectful of people. I was not the only one from my family who had the chance to meet the Missile Man.

My father was once travelling by flight. To kill time, he picked up a copy of the magazine Frontline. To his good fortune, that particular issue of Frontline had a picture of Abdul Kalam on the cover page and had an article about him. As my father read through the magazine, he realised that his co-passenger was none other than the great man himself. He asked him for an autograph, to which Dr.Kalam readily obliged. He signed the magazine cover and wrote the ‘NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE. This magazine is a prized treasure that my family cherishes.

Another incident that illustrates the greatness of this Mahatma was witnessed by my grandfather. Dr.Kalam was scheduled to catch a flight but had nearly missed the timing owing to traffic. The airline, not wanting to let go of their esteemed passenger delayed the aircraft. Dr.Kalam reached the airport and ran to the boarding gate. He was a older than most of the passengers, and it was the passengers good luck to be travelling with him. Yet he felt bad to keep others waiting. He apologised to the passengers and the crew for the delay. A great man like him need not apologise, yet Dr.Kalam chose to remain a commoner despite his achievements. He chose to remain one among the people. He thoroughly enjoyed spending time with people. Hence it is befitting that he died surrounded by students.

Dr.A.P.J.Abdul Kalam may have left the physical world, yet he continues to live on in the hearts of the millions he inspired. Certain teachers need to be present to deliver their message to students, however Dr.Abdul Kalam is no normal teacher, he is someone like Dronacharya, a person who inspires by just merely thinking of him. We the future of India are his Ekalavyas or his unseen disciples. We need to keep the Wings of Fire Burning and realise the dream that Dr.Kalam had for each of us and the nation.

The world is not an asset that we acquire from our parents, it is a debt that we take from our progenies. Dr.Kalam paid this debt multi fold by being a great mentor and teacher. It is upto to each and everyone of us to keep the path of progress envisioned by him.

Badam Halwa Lessons

My grand mother prepared a tin full of Badam Halwa Cake and handed it to me. I placed it with my clothes and zipped the bag shut. On reaching Singapore, I promptly put it into the refrigerator. Everyday I would open the fridge to see if the Halwa was intact and would tell myself I would eat a piece of it the next day. On some days I would break a piece into half and consume one portion of it.

One day I opened to see the Badam Cake was grey in color as compared to its rich beige color. Fungi had infested the cake and I had to throw away the partially filled box with a heavy heart. I could not comprehend how the halwa that had seemed fresh had suddenly turned grey. I wondered if the greying had occurred over a period of time and whether I had been absent minded. I chided myself for my absent mindedness and wondered if destroying some of the spoilt halwa would have helped the rest of the halwa remain uninfested. I was surprised yet a little upset at the same time.

This Badam Halwa analogy holds good for all relationships including friendship. Several times we notice that a friendship has gone sour primarily because we fail to notice the changes. We are caught in a time race and effectively ignore the greying symptoms. We keep putting away making calls to the next day, assuming that there will be one more day. This cycle continues until you feel an emotional disconnection with the person. This disconnection spreads like the fungus, unfortunately you are caught in a eutopic world that you fail to notice the fungi and the end result is a sour friendship infested with bitterness.

Make that call that you need to make TODAY. Do not put it off until tomorrow for the person may not need you tomorrow, do not let the fungi spread. Be vigilant and give people the importance they deserve. Do not let the emotional disconnection develop for one day it may lead to a situation where your loved one may need to discard your friendship just like I had to discard the tin of Badam Halwa.

Look Who Was Here!

Having a Sibling is having an assurance that you will have a Best Friend for life. Siblings are family, but the formalities generally associated with a family can be cast away when to comes to dealing with siblings. My little brother (not so little now), was one Best Friend I could never get tired of. The fact that we shared a good percentage of our genes and a roof above our heads made it just impossible to not love him. I had not seen him for almost six months and was excited that he was coming to visit me. I drew many plans and eagerly awaited his arrival.

I kept seeing the clock and could hardly sleep the night before he arrived. Unfortunately I had work and requested my best friend to receive him at the airport. My brother was extremely co-operative and accompanied my friend. They had a great time together and had pizza for breakfast. They had several common passions that included motorbikes, TV-series and annoying me :P

As I entered the house an hour after his arrival, I felt a wave of nostalgia creeping into me. He was finally here! We exchanged notes and chatted as my roommate pampered us with biscuits and coffee.

Over the next few days we tried several cuisines including Chinese and Thai Vegetarian Food. We visited Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum and several other iconic places in Singapore. We had a great time revelling in our shared craziness.

Posing with E.T : My Brother is a great Poser

Salute! In front of the Parliament

 On the last day of his brief Sojourn, we had planned to visit the Bird Park and head out for Dinner, however our plans were thrashed as I caught a cold and fever and could barely move. We spent the day chit-chatting and eating whatever was available in the house. My room mates and friends entertained us and we had a lovely day. I was glad that I had the cold as it gave me the opportunity to spend time with my brother and friends without having to sift through the hustle of the city.

The next day, as I accompanied him to the airport, I felt sad that he was leaving, but knew that I would be meeting him again as I was going home.

The places we visit are seemingly insignificant as compared to the people we meet. A big thanks to all my buddies in Singapore for making my brothers trip to Singapore a memorable one.It would be difficult to thank everyone who took time to visit us and made this trip a memorable one,but some people really need to be thanked!  A special thanks to my best friends Mahalakshmi and Siddharth and my Roomies Ananya and Shruti for filling in for me.

Homecoming

There is a major difference between shifting houses and shifting homes. The former is much easier, for all it entails is leaving behind a building that is nothing but brick and mortar. Shifting homes on the other hand is emotionally taxing for one needs to leave their loved ones behind while shifting homes.

I have shifted homes twice and I am moving to a new house with my current home-mates soon and I would definitely say that shifting houses is no easy task, however shifting homes is a hundred times worse than shifting houses.

Two years ago, I left home for the first time. I left my family and came to Singapore. I was apprehensive and a little sad on leaving my little nest, but the excitement of going to a new place kept my spirits high.

In my first year in Singapore, my roommates became my support system in Singapore. The day I left the house, I felt a tinge of pain and I looked at the house that was once my residence for the last time. I quickly turned away and proceeded to my new house.

I soon moved into another locality and got acquainted with my new housemates. These housemates soon became home mates. At the end of the year, the university asked my roommates to shift. I was in a situation where I could either retain my house or my home-mates. I chose the later.

Many people chided me on my decision to shift houses when I could live on campus. I knew that they would never be able to understand my rationale behind leaving the house. I felt that a house can be replaced, but people who matter to you should never be replaced.

To me, My current hostel was a home, because my buddies made it so. If I chose them over the house, I would still be in a home. On the contrary if I chose the house, the house would be nothing but a hostel. It would mean that I valued cardboard, brick and cement over wonderful people.

The only thing that I miss about my new house is my Best Friends Absence. Though she intended to stay with me, a series of errors on my part made it impossible. However, nothing can be perfect and it's almost perfect with my home-mates and I am sure my Best Friend will be an honorary house mate in my house, just like I am in hers.

Houses may come, Houses may go. But we will go on forever.

Hindi Vindi

Languages has never been my cup of tea. However hard I try, my brain is wired in a way that makes languages difficult to grasp. When I was in grade one, My parents decided that I should learn Tamil, my mother tongue as my second language in school. Despite being able to speak in Tamil, I struggled with writing as I could never get the spellings right. Every time I submitted my note book to the teacher, it would be returned to me with several red ink marks on it. When my grandmother and mother tried to teach me, I would cry each time they made me write a word as an imposition as I never intended to make a mistake. My brain could simply not understand the nuances. At the end of Primary school, I could read and speak Tamil,but my writing skills remained below par. My ability to understand a new language was also low.

While attempting to learn my mother tongue itself was an arduous task, I made an unsuccessful attempt to learn Hindi. Several people told me that they had learnt Hindi by merely watching films. I knew the task would not be that easy, but I enrolled for classes and tried to understand Hindi. Despite all the effort I put. The attempt was a failure.

I assumed that I was unable to learn Hindi as I did not have anyone to interact with. Most of my friends spoke either Telugu or Kannada, and I thought it would be easier to pick up one of these languages. Once again my Mission Failed.

My linguistic disability never posed any problems. I was able to communicate verbally in English and Tamil. In India my lack of knowledge in Hindi was never remarked upon. Surprisingly the first this language issue was when I was in Singapore. Several times I found myself in the company of people who spoke in Mandarin and Hindi. While those who spoke in Mandarin were sympathetic, my Indian comrades simply expressed their surprise and continued talking in Hindi.

Some of them argued that Hindi was the national language of India. When I pointed out that Hindi was not 'THE' national language of India and that India had over a dozen national languages, they would arch their eyebrows and shake their head. They never empathized with me, but asked me to talk in English each time I spoke in Tamil ( Mainly to make them understand my situation).

My saviours were my roommates. One of them made an attempt to always talk to me in Hindi while the other when a step ahead and translated every sentence to me as others around me spoke to each other oblivious of my presence. 

I imagine the day, I would be able to have a full conversation in Hindi. Like the Sridevi in English Vinglish, I want to see the surprised faces of those around me. However I know this day may never come.

To those who tell me that I need to learn Hindi, I just have a few questions.

You say that Hindi is spoken in Delhi and I will suffer if I ever move to Delhi. I have no intention of moving to Delhi. Many of you have the intention of moving to Germany, France, Spain and Japan in the future. However you do not know German or French and still have the intention of emigrating to these countries. 

Secondly, you say that Hindi is spoken in many places in India. Sadly, we are not in India guys! we are in Singapore now! here, Hindi is NOT a National Language.Tamil, my mother tongue is one of the national languages of Singapore. If you feel it is necessary to know a Language that is commonly used in the city where you intend to live, I suggest you learn a language that is used in the city where you currently live. If thats the case, according to your analogy and theory, you can learn Tamil. 

So buddies.... When shall we begin the lesson???

Empowered and Empowering

In Buses in India it is not uncommon to find a section of seats on every bus reserved for women. This is done to ensure that women feel safe while traveling on crowded buses. Thr remaining seats are not reserved and anyone who chooses to sit on them can use them. However some people traveling on the bus assume that General Seats are for men while the reserved seats are for women.

Once I was traveling on a bus that was relatively empty. The women's section was full and only one man was seated in the general section. I proceeded to find a seat and sat down. In the next stop a lady and few other men got in and the lady asked me to get up. I pointed that the bus was empty and she could sit in any other seat she chose to. She shook her head and said that I was sitting in a 'Gents' seat and I should get up. Some of the men on the bus agreed with her. I simply refused to get up. She gave a disproving glance and continued to stand though there were sufficient seats on the bus as she wanted to sit on a 'LADIES' seat.

This happens on a daily basis in many places. It is not necessary that men suppress women, since many women suppress themselves. It would still be alright if they suppressed themselves, but many women take an extra step in suppressing other women by admonishing them. While I stuck to the seat and refused to move, I have come across several other girls who getup and stand in the same situation to avoid creating a scene.

This expression of authority on strangers is not limited to the public transport system. I was once seated on a bench in my undergraduate college. I stretched my legs after a tiring day at lab and classes. A woman who was the office assistant of one of my professors happened to pass by. She scurried towards me and asked me to sit decently. I pointed out that was nothing wrong in the way I sat and pointed to a boy sitting a few feet away and told her that he was sitting the same way. She said "Ozhunga Nalla Ponnu Mathri Iru". (Be like a good proper girl). I simply smiled and folded my knees and sat upright till she was out of sight. I did not have much of a choice as I was already notorious in college for being rebellious and did not want to create a scene as I feared it would affect my grades if anyone came to know that I rebelled.

These two incidents annoyed me, however I felt lucky as this superficial need to Appear like a "Nalla Ponnu" did not apply at home. However In several instances it applies to the home as well. I have come across several girls who wanted to study Mechanical Engineering but ultimately did not as their mothers and grandmothers counseled them against studying a "BOYS" course.

Many states in India have several women at their helm and many nations are lead by able women. We have several sportspersons including Mary Kom, Saritha Devi etc who are women. Many women scientists work in research establishments like ISRO and women contribute significantly to the nation. While many women admire these women who have made a mark, they hypocritically suppress themselves and the women around them by shaming them and controlling them to act like the supposed Good Woman in their perceptions. If  it had been drilled into Mary Kom had that punching was only meant for boys she  would not be where she is today.

I am a Mechanical Engineer and I have several friends doing research in Computer Science, Medicine and Biology. Research by itself is perceived to be a Male dominated field and sciences are all the more dominated by men. All of them concur on one thing - The women in their lives I.e. Mother, sister, teacher etc were extremely crucial in offering their support to them. One of them even went on to say that when she was in 6th grade her science teacher had told her that she should consider Life Science research and that the teacher was a major support to her. She concluded that if not for her family and teachers support she would not be where she is.

Several men suppress and abuse women, however several women suppress themselves and others and  in turn create a group of women who believe that it is alright to be suppressed and suppressed. It is only when this chain ends can women truly be empowering and empowered.

Let it go !

If we made a mistake, she would admonish us for a few minutes and then go on with whatever she was doing like nothing happened.

If she made a mistake, she would apologise and move on.

She was extremely level headed and looked at everything with a rational perspective and a combination of patience and pragmatism is what made her the person she is. She never held grudges, as she believed that everyone should always be given a second chance.

Several times when I encounter people, I observe that they are neither ready to forgive others, nor are they ready to accept their mistakes. They hold on to a false ego that they are always right and refuse to look beyond the rosy borders that they have mentally created for themselves. In doing so they create a barrier between themselves and others and make themselves difficult to approach. When I encounter such people, the first person who comes to my mind is my Mom.

I would always wonder what she would do if she was in the same situation. She would simply forgive the person and move on. I always wondered how she could be so calm and composed. I am a person who believes in admitting my mistakes, however when it came to forgiving others, my opinion was diametrically opposite to that of my mother. 

I believed that a person who had hurt me once, would hurt me again and by forgiving them I was only making myself more vulnerable to that persons emotions. I held on to my belief until my mom pointed out to me, that my not forgiving a person and holding onto a grudge, we are allocating a space for the person in our mind, this allocation of spaces makes us lose focus on other better and more important things. I did not buy her logic as I felt the principle was flawed.

One day I entered by apartment with a bag of vegetables that I had purchased in the market. I opened the fridge that was already overflowing and realised that there was no space for the vegetables. I left the vegetables on the kitchen counter and was left with a bag of rotten vegetables two days later. When I sifted through the contents of the fridge I noticed that most of the contents had either crossed their expiry dates or were spoilt. I had held on to rotten food and in the process let the fresh vegetables rot.

The same principle applies to our life. If we hold on to grudges, we let the grudges occupy too much of space in our mind. We do not get rid of grudges and hence our mind is filled with rotten thoughts. This prevents good thoughts from entering the mind. The good thoughts are forgotten as there is no space for them and in due course of time, the good thoughts become invalid as we have not allocated sufficient time to them.

For Example, A professor falsely accused me of using a mobile phone in his class.. He publicly shamed me in front of my classmates. I developed an instant dislike for him and mentally shut myself out in all his lessons. While my eyes appeared to focus on the board, I did not focus on the lessons. The Professor was a sour human but a good teacher. When the exams came, while others could fathom the subject, I was clueless. I had let the grudge grow in me and had prevented the knowledge from coming in. In the end, the sour Professor had remained unaffected. He continued to remain sour while my grades suffered.

This incident made me change my belief on forgiving others.

In forgiving someone else, we are in reality making ourselves a better person by getting rid of all the dirt and rot (grudges).

As the nicest human being I have known - My Mom, celebrates her birthday this week. I pray and hope that I become like her someday. I hope god gives her a colourful life and endows others with the cheerful disposition she has.

Bise-Bhele-Bhaat

Bise-Bhele-Bhaat is one of my favourite dishes. The Colourful concoction of rice, lentils and vegetables is as tasty as it looks. It is simple to make and easy to eat as it does not require any side dish to be eaten with it. My grandmothers and mother are experts at making this dish. However the best Bise-Bhele-Bhaat I have tasted was made by my friend Sahana, who originates from the same place that Bise-Bhele-Bhaat originated - Karnataka.  Sahana had a knack for making it. She would toss the ingredients into a cooker and let it cook. She would then add the condiments and it would be just perfect at the first try. She knew the quantities by just looking at them. When complimented, she would just smile and offer to explain how to make it. She was unassuming and never cared for compliments.

"Exchange one dollar with and a friend and you have a dollar each.

Exchange an idea with a friend and you have two good ideas."

In this race of life, many believe that success is a win-lose situation, where one needs to put down their counterparts in order to succeed. In stark contrast she believed in sharing ideas and knowledge with everyone in order to obtain ideas from them. She believed that learning was a two-way process that benefitted the receiver as well as the giver.

Relative Grading is analogous to ensuring that you stay a little ahead of others, so that you can leverage the edge you have by converting it to a better grade. Several people I knew used the relative grading system to their advantage by not sharing what they knew with others. However, Sahana rubbished these ideas and freely shared her notes with everyone. The notes that she meticulously prepared, used to be photocopied and passed around the rest of the class. Never once did she worry that the people she helped would outperform her.

Sahana was extremely organized. She did not stop with herself and lent a hand to anyone who required it. Once during my Master's, I had an open book exam. I sat in the study lounge with piles and piles of paper surrounding me, unsure of how to proceed. Sahana, came up to me. She sat down and quickly began to re-arrange my notes. She labelled them using sticky notes and sorted them into five broad categories depending on the portions covered in them. She gave me a few tips on how to use those notes to my advantage. She congratulated me when I received an 'A' on the paper, and commented that I had done the studying and she was only a catalyst.

She did not stop with academics. Cooking came naturally to Sahana, and she gave cooking advice to anyone who asked her. She taught me to make macaroni and accompanied me to the shop to purchase the best pasta available in the market. She made Bise-bhele-bhaat and Biriyani when I was low and never ceased to motivate me when I felt low.

Sahana Completed the course with flying colors. She topped the class. What made it more special for everyone was that, by succeeding, she created a win-win situation for everyone. She proved that one can succeed by being simple. The bise-bhele-Bhaat is simple, tasty and nourishing. The same way the best way to be successful is be simple, drop your ego, learn from others and teach others what you know. The way to succeed will present itself to you.

Sahana, as you celebrate your birthday, I wish you a prosperous life. I wish that your life is as Colourful as the Bise-Bhele-Bhaat. Continue to be as awesome as you are. The world needs people like you.

Worry not for life will move on...

This post is dedicated to my dear friend 'A'. I have had several friends but one person who motivated me the most was 'A', His tale is one of grit, determination and strong will. He never lost heart and had worked hard. He never gave up hope and always told himself that he would see light at the end of the tunnel. 

Every classroom in any institution will have melange of people ranging from the super-geeks to the most chilled out people. Though the ratio of the geeks to average humans depends upon the ranking and repute of the school, every class will have atleast one different person who does not fit into the mould.

I studied in an Undergraduate School that was not bad but was not a great school. Our class had a fine balance of nine-pointers and average students. Some people studied really hard and walked away with brilliant grades. While some were just content to pass. However there were some people who did not fall into both categories. One such person was 'A'.

He worked really hard. While others started studying for a test only a day prior to it. He would study for weeks. He would revise two, three and even four times but would mess up at the end of the exam. At the end of the test he would be glum as would not have been able to answer most of the questions. He would then move on and study for the next test. This pattern continued until a point when he finally lost his motivation. One day when our seniors were graduating from college, he saw them in their graduation gowns and lamented that he would never graduate. I jokingly asked him to borrow a seniors gown and click a picture in case he never graduated. However he took in good spirit and continued to work as hard as before.

The problem with 'A' and many others like him is that our education system caters only to a particular Genre of Learners. He was a semi-kinesthetic learner who understood things by experiencing them. Once while explaining to him how to draw a diagram over the phone, he repeatedly asked me the same question. I finally lost patience and gave up. He then took a pencil and compass and constructed the diagram himself. The next day he showed me the diagram. It was perfect and flawless. He then began to understand his learning patterns. He got notes from our class toppers and focused on what he was best at. He cleared all his backlogs and passed his course with flying colours. 

Post his Bachelor's he joined a Master's course in USA. Unlike his previous stint in India he had a good start to his course. He worked hard and cleared his first semester with a stellar 4 on 4. He said through the other semesters well and is now on his way to receive his Masters.Now, whenever I feel low he motivates me.

When I think of him and all that he has gone through I realize that he played a very important role in my life. By explaining things to him, I learnt things better. By seeking motivation by looking at him I felt motivated. 

Everytime we are running through a rough phase in our lives we only think of our ourselves and fail to realize that we are not an isolated system. Our difficulties and joys also contribute to the upliftment of others around us. The earth by itself is a system in equlibrium. It is not possible to have a perpetual summer or winter as the each region needs to experience its own equilibrium in order for the earth to be in balance.

As you go through each day, If you are happy share your joy with others and help them regain their equilibrium. If you are sad, share your sorrow with those who matter and help yourself get back on your feet.

And everyone else who feels like a black sheep or an underachiever. Remember there are many flocks of white sheep and though you might feel odd one day you will eventually find your flock. The day you discover what you are good at or when someone else discovers you is not far. A world with only white sheep is a colourless world. Until then just focus on keep yourself in balance.

Epilogue :

He walked into the room, with his bride holding his hand. He flashed his million dollar smile at us as he walked along the flower decked aisle. He had two degrees, a wonderful wife and a stellar career. I flashed him a smile and walked up to the podium by the stage to deliver the best man's (woman in my case) speech. He who was once considered a lowly black sheep was now an amazingly successful one.

Together through Thick and Thin

I few days ago I was reading my friends blog post. It took me down the memory line. 

This is the URL to her post : http://evinceread.blogspot.sg/2015/03/i-miss-old-us.html

I was chatting with a friend. He mentioned that friends were replaceable. He said that as we move on we should discard old friendships and gain new friends to suit new situations. He argued that we should rid ourselves and our friends of old friendships the same way we get rid of worn out clothes.  I argued that friendships were an integral part of life that created good memories and made life nicer. We can get rid of old clothes but we can not get rid of old memories and these memories would not be what they are without friends.

When I was in Kindergarten, once the lessons for the day were over, I would rush to the Umbrella Tree on my school campus. My mother would come to fetch me from school. As she waited for me to arrive she would engage in some talk with the other mothers. My first friends in school were the daughters of these waiting mothers. As our mothers chatted we would talk to each other and wave each other goodbye as we parted. At that point of time friendship to me meant the companionship of other kids around your age. 

The first friend I made, my first best friend was a classmate in third grade. As we sat next to each other in class we exchanged phone numbers. We did not even know each others names for a whole year. However as we grew up each of us had different likings and started to gel with different sets of people. Unintentionally we had drifted apart and had become part of different cliques. We continue to remain good friends to this date.

Post primary school, The next Best Friend's I had were through Girl Guides. Six of us had to spend almost a year in each others company. We saw each other for approximately 8 hours a day and at the end of it, three of them were my best friends. Their friends became my friends over time. Of the three of them, I speak to one friend once in a month. While I do not speak to the other two frequently, we still update each other on our lives. We live in different corners of the globe and haven't met in a long time.

Once I graduated from school, I entered university. The people whom I had known all my life were no longer around me. In the first year of college we had mixed classes where students from different branches attended classes together. Though I did not have a best friend in particular, I had 5 friends in the class. Four of them live in different cities now and one lives in the the same city as mine. I keep in touch with four of them.

Travelling to college was memorable and I made several very good friends on the Bus. Living in the same locality made it easier for us to synchronise our travel times. As the bus trod along Chennai roads, we would look through the grills of the bus window and animatedly chat while the breeze messed up our neat braids. All the friends I made on the bus live far away,

Though undergrad I made other friends as my Junior year friends drifted away. However the only person I would call my best friend was a batch-mate I met in my pre-final year of college. We did not have any common classes and met through mutual friends. He now stays over 15000km away from where I live now.

Of all the good friends I had before leaving India, I am in touch with all of them but one person?

Surprisingly, the person I seldom talk to is not the person who lives 15000 km away. Nor is it the person I met as a child. The person I seldom talk to is the person who lives in the same city as me.

The same scenario would have been different a decade ago when Skype was uncommon, Facetime unheard of, Whatsapp was nonexistent and international calls cost a bombshell. A good friendship does not require geographical closeness to sustain itself. All it needs is the willingness of two individuals to be a part of each others lives.

Some may argue that the world is becoming increasingly virtual and virtual friendships are unreal. Though there is nothing like having a friend beside you, it does not make sense to sever ties just because you do not meet often. Throwing a friend out of your life just because you can not see the person in flesh and blood every day or week of your life makes no sense. Circumstances may force the Best of Friends apart and a friend does not cease to be a friend just because a person does not reside in the same locality as you.

One of my very good friends is a person I met in the neighbourhood mathematics tuiton. She lived in USA and I lived in India. We wrote to each other and became good friends. I have met her in person only 5 or 6 times but that in now way makes her a lesser friend. My current roomates and a few classmates are my buddies in Singapore. A dozen years down the line we may be in different places and we may or may not be in contact. However if we lose contact it is because we have emotionally drifted apart, not because the distance has parted us.

And each time I call a friend or text a long lost buddy.....

Even if the distance does us part we shall not.

Tea Time Tales

One girl was seated on the couch. With the laptop perched on the armrest of the couch, she sifted through her mails. Another sat on the floor examining an image of Cinderella on a black t-shirt. Her attention barely shifted from the masterpiece she created. The third girl sat on another couch. With her tab in her hand she read through some article on an online newspaper. The clock struck eleven and though they technically did not have wall clock at home, their circadian rhythms were in harmony and their psychological clock rang mini alarms indicating that it was tea time.

They looked at each other for a full thirty seconds before they asked each other who would prepare tea. Finally one of them got up and proceeded to the stove. She collected the ingredients and placed them on the table to avoid repeated visits to the kitchen storage that was a good five yards away. A click was a heard and the trio turned their attention to the door as the fourth member of the tea party entered.

Glasses were placed on the table and a spoon of sugar was placed in two of the glasses. The tea was filtered and each member was handed a glass. All of them sat down on the four couches in the room. As they curled into their comfort zones each of them complimented the person who prepared tea that day. Over a glass of tea they would discuss the happenings of the day. They would engage in harmless banter and tease each other. As the tea vanished, they would wind their tea party. Once the glasses were empty each would wash their glass and stow it on the counter top rack before they hit the sack.

This was an everyday ritual that they arduously followed. Even if one was busy, the other three would continue to drink tea as the missing member would catch up on the details the next day. The practice of tea-drinking may seem banal to others but to them it was one time of the day they really looked forward to. All of them were students who were in different stages of their doctoral programme. Each had batlles to face everyday of their lives but when it was tea time they drowned their worries and fears in the mugs of tea and cleansed their minds to prepare themselves for the day that was to come. 

Being a member of this tea party, I always wondered how all the others had time for everything despite their tight schedules. One day I remembered a story that one of my school teachers once told us. 

"A professor stood before his philosophy class with some items in front of him.

When class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He asked the students if the jar was full, they all agreed it was. So, the professor picked up a box of pebbles and poured them in the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled around the golf balls and filled into the spaces between the golf balls. He again asked, “is the jar full?”; and again the students agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “Yes!”. The professor then produced two cups of tea from the table and poured the entire contents into the jar; effectively filling the empty spaces between the sand. The students laughed. As the laughter subsided, the professor said, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things, family, children, health, friends, and your favorite passions. The pebbles are the other things that matter, like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else—the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “you will spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18 holes.There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set priorities. The rest is just sand.” One of the students asked, “What does the coffee represent?” The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a cup of tea with a friend.”

This Just goes to show how we can make time for everything in our lives. All we need to do is to sort out our priorities. The laundry can be put away for another day or we can squeeze a five minute slot to just load the washer and collect the clothes later. After all chores are just grains of sand. There is no point in cribbing that the jar is full of sand when the golf balls are effectively outside. When your life seems to be getting too heavy with trivial sand like issues just throw the sand out and fill it with the more important issues. The sand will fall into its space between the golf balls. And incase your life seems completely overwhelming, it does not matter whether your life is filled with sand or pebbles or golfballs. Just head for a cup of tea with your friends. After all there is always space for a cup of tea.

You can see the video for the Mayo Jar story on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-iyK1zGC84

Breaking the Glass Barrier

Dearest Appa.... You Always told me I can be whatever I want... I and ultimately did whatever I wanted.... with your words echoing in my head.... This post is dedicated to you.... I only wish more people could be like you..... 

The Indian Society has progressed considerably over the last century. The outlook of Indians has become considerably broader and things seem to be improving for the better. However patriarchy continues to be dominant in India. Though families are becoming increasingly liberal, the society in general continues to be chauvinistic.

An interview of one of the accused in the infamous Nirbhaya Case only echos the sentiments expressed by several men in India who believe that women are born to serve men. Also, men believe that it is below their dignity to partake in household chores and feel that women are inferior mortals whose sole purpose on earth is to serve them.

Women in some societies are made to believe that they are inferior. In some societies they are made to believe that they are equal to men. They live with the belief that they can do what they want and aim for the ceiling only to be hit hard on the head by the invisible glass barrier of patriarchy that injures their personality. Some brush the injury away and break the glass paving for a barrier less path for other while some recoil post hitting the glass. My tale is one where I hit the glass and decided to shy away from it, yet climbed over the glass barrier by circumventing it (by leaving the country). I bow down to all the strong women who had the courage and will power to break the barrier.

I belong to an extremely liberal family. My family took my education and empowerment very seriously. When I decided that I wanted to pursue Mechanical Engineering, my parents wholeheartedly supported me. I completely loved my course but was inherently depressed and unhappy as several of my batch mates treated me like an untouchable. I was made to sit alone on the left side first bench. The bench that was meant to seat five students, had only two students seated on it as my classmates were vehemently against the idea of sitting near someone they considered inferior just because their set of 46 chromosomes had one different chromosome as compared to mine. 

The disparity and discrimination did not end with the seating arrangement. When the class decided to go on an industrial visit, the other girl in my class and I expressed our desire to join them. However some of my classmates purposely did not book tickets for us, under the pretext of in-availability of tickets as they did not want a lesser mortal joining them on the trip. 

Symposiums and tech-fests are meant to be events where people share their ideas. However in my department for the girls it was far from what it was meant to be. We had to draw rangolis to welcome the chief guests and decorate the stage as the so called superior mortals (the boys or the men in my class) refused to help us.

My irritation and annoyance at the disparity grew so much that I really wanted to get out of the university as soon as possible and head out of the city as soon as I could. The mere sight of my college brought tears to my eyes. The day I left my city I felt a sense of empowerment. I could be myself and people respected me for the person I am. Not for the gender I belonged to. The men in my life who supported me then continue to support me now and I am thankful to all the people in my life (men and women) for making me what I am now.My heart goes out to all the women who face supression and discrimination at home and in the society.

I do not mean to say that all men are evil or mean. But the percentage of people that need to really understand that their right to be be liberal should not curtail the freedom of others is very high. A vast majority of my classmates were chauvinistic, Some were extremely broadminded and humane. My sincere thanks to them for reinforcing my faith in humanity and for giving me the belief that good people exist. I see shining examples of liberal and strong men in my grand father, father,brother and friends and wish that other men can stop being chauvinistic and hypocritical. Maybe once they have a daughter or wife their stance may change. Only time can tell what changes may occur in the future. Until then I pray.... Into this heaven of Freedom my People.... Let my Country Awake!!!

P.S: This post is not intended to hurt anyone. The primary aim of this post is to make people aware of the restrictions the society imposes on us. Also, Over my four years in college I had several nightmares and wanted to bring it to an end. Documenting it and bringing it to an end puts some sort of closure on my emotions.

Heal the World

 This blog post is not about food for the tongue but food for thought.

It was my entry to the Springer Writing Contest.

A graduate student who has gone home for a vacation chances to talk to her nonagenarian great-grandmother. The well educated and articulate grandmother attributes her health to Science and this sets the duo chatting about the advancements in healthcare and why the probability of living a longer is higher in the twenty-first century than it was before.

INTRODUCTION:

The average life span of a human is now twice what it was less than a decade ago. While wars consumed many lives, diseases also had a huge role to play in the vicious cycle of low natality rate and high mortality. This was due to the absence of proper healthcare. Diseases like the pox and Measles that seem simple today were deadly once upon a time. This paradigm shift from deadly worry to a mild irritant is primarily due to the advancements in healthcare. Though vaccines and drugs were available in the previous century, one thing that was not available then and is rapidly developing now is tissue engineering. 

TISSUE ENGINEERING:

Tissue Engineering deals growing new organs in order to repair damaged old organs. This is similar to replacing the parts of an auto-mobile as they wear out. Tissue Engineering that was once limited to transplanting organs from one portion of the body to another has now evolved to something that involves the creation of organs from cells and bio-materials, aided by suitable environmental conditions. In the last five years Tissue Engineered Grafts for skin and blood vessels have been prepared and the day is not far when Tissue Engineering will be used to create nerves and other tissues that seem seemingly impossible to create.

THE TALE BEGINS:

As I sat on the verandah of my my house lazily sipping my coffee a brisk and smart woman in her nineties brushed past me and sat down on the chair opposite mine. “Good Morning Ammama” I greeted her as she sat down nodding with a cup of coffee in her hand. I reminded her that she would be turning ninety five the next day and told her to not rush. She nodded and said that it was the will of God and discoveries in Science that had enabled her to live this long. I curiously asked her what she meant by that. Being a Doctorate student in Tissue Engineering, I understood what she meant but was surprised by the fact that my Ammama knew so much.

She took a sip of her coffee and pointed to the picture of my great grandfather hanging on the wall and solemnly said, If only he had contracted the deadly disease he had five years later. He would be alive now. This set my grey cells churning as I wondered how the situation was less than a decade ago and how it would be few years down the line. My great-grandfather had succumbed to liver cirrhosis. Liver Replacements were unknown of in the time he lived. My thoughts were interrupted when Ammama gingerly tapped my knee with her left hand. As I looked up she pointed to a line on her forearm indicating the place where her skin had been cut to place an implant. She said “When you were a little girl I fractured my arm and had this implant. Last year when my heart valve was not functioning properly the doctor replaced it with a new one. In fact my ocular lens is also artificial.” As I slowly nodded my head in approval, she said “Our body is like an auto-mobile. These organs are like spare parts”.

At that moment a creaking of the gate was heard. Both of us turned to face the gate as my cousin Leela entered holding her year old son Aditya in one hand. Aditya had a black thread tied around his waist. I could not help but notice a small cylindrical wire attached to the thread. Leela noticed that I was looking at it and explained to me that it was a small piece of the umbilical cord that had connected her to Aditya. I asked Leela if she had harvested that umbilical cord. Leela nodded. Ammama lifted Aditya and said,”This young man will most likely have a longer life than most of us”.I added that Cord Blood Banking was an excellent idea, especially since it could be used to treat many disorders that include leukaemia. I also added that the umbilical cord was an excellent source of stem cells that could be harvested and used for development of organs.

Ammama’s eyes gaped like that of a small child. She asked me to elaborate on what I had said. I cleared my throat and began. “Just like you have this metallic implant in you, one day you might just have your own implant made of your own cells”. As Ammama could not fathom what I was saying, I asked her if she remembered all the drugs she had to take when she had the arm surgery. I explained to her that some of those were immuno-suppressants that prevented the body from attacking the implant, as her own body cells would assume the implant to be a foreign body, I told her that the day was not far off when one could have their own organs manufactured from their very own cells. 

Aditya entered the room. With uneven steps he hastened to me and tugged my dress. I lifted him up and made him sit down on my lap. I explained to her that. Cells in the umbilical cord that I had mentioned earlier were embryonic stem cells that could develop into any kind of cell provided that right environment and nutrients were provided. I was able to sense that Ammama was losing track of the conversation. I decided that being simple was better than confusing her. 

I asked her what the difference between bone and skin was. Ammama said “Bone is hard, Skin is soft”. I smiled and said “Yes!!! Similarly if you grow those stem cells on a hard surface they will become bone! If you grow it on a soft surface they will become skin!!”. Ammama smiled and flashed me a thumbs up sign signalling that she understood. She then asked me what would happen to the heart and lungs. I explained to her that the same stem cells can be grown on a surface modelled similar to the heart surface. Thought it hadn't happened I assured her that in less than half a decade we would have engineered heart valves, skin, hearts and several other organs.

She then asked me what my research was about. I told her that I was trying to design implants for the  tendon. I pointed to my wrist to explain what I meant. I told her that nowadays many people were injuring their tendon by breaking it or stretching it too much and I was attempting to make a model of an implant that would use that patients cells. I explained to her that my lab-mate Ankitha was working on knee implants and that it was a booming field. She remarked that if she ever needed an implant in the future she hoped that it would be the one designed by me. She said that she would endorse it like a badge of pride.

I realised that thought we had solved certain health issues, there were hundreds of problems left to be solved. As we found solutions to problems, more problems arise. The average life span today is eighty years and that was bound to increase considerably. Small pox, SARS and H1N1 were things of the past. EBOLA was happening and though it would be gone soon some other disease would crop up soon. I said to myself that all I could do was to make my implant effective and this would be a little contribution in the sea of healthcare research. 

EPILOGUE: 

The laboratory tests for the implants had been successful. The implants had been tested on animals and were on their way to getting Device Exemption from the regulatory board. As I waited for the regulatory officer from HSA to formally announce our approval, my phone rang. I cut it once but called back intermediately realizing that it was my mother. My mothers voice choked with emotion as she said that Ammama had passed away. A tear rolled down my cheek. Ammama had seen her grand daughter’s grandson and had lived a full life. I looked at the skies and blew a kiss to Ammama and ensured her that though I did not have the privilege of letting her try the implant I designed many people in the years to come, will use it.

CONCLUSION:

Nothing is impossible in the world of Tissue Engineering. While on one hand bio-materials are being developed to enhance the cell culture process, on the other people are working towards creating new organs and tissues.Though Cord Blood and Stem Cell banking seem to be the way forward into the future, the concept faces several roadblocks in the form of escalating storage costs and ethical concerns. Nature throws several problems at us and it is up to humans to solve these problems using the resources nature has provided us with. 

In the years to come we can expect several organs to be created by means of tissue engineering. Not just several tissues but complete working organs. Given the advancements in technology, though probably not in the foreseeable future, some day complete organ systems may be created artificially. Till then we need to keep working hard towards doing our little bit to the society.

My great grandmother lived to see her progenies of five generations. Who knows I might live to see seven.

“Heal the world, Make it a better place.

For you, for me and the entire human race.....”