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.....”

Homecoming

The prime reason the South Indian Eateries in the Airport are thriving is the desperation of the travellers to eat home cooked food the moment they set foot on home soil. However, some may want to relish a last minute dosa or coffee before boarding the flight. Whenever I travel to Chennai, my hometown, I always look forward to the meal as soon as I step out of the terminal. I usually take a budget flight as the food served on the aircraft does nothing but spoil my appetite. Generally my parents will bring a packed hamper containing my favourite goodies to satiate my taste buds as we travelled home. If it is a morning flight we would drive to the nearest tiffin centre and catch up over a Mini-Tiffin and Coffee. This would be the beginning of a gastronomical journey that would last my entire trip to Chennai.

During my last trip to Chennai, I went to my paternal house from the airport. My grandmother had prepared half a dozen delicacies. I thoroughly enjoyed the meal and then visited my Maternal grandmother, who had prepared another half a dozen delicacies. I initially thought of refusing, but realised that I would have an opportunity to eat without being questioned, only during my next trip. I ended up having six meals that day.

As I browse through facebook, seeing my friends vacation photos, my mouth begins to salivate. I feel a sense of happiness when I realize that I will be home in less than forty-eight hours. I vividly imagine the bowls of rice and gravy, placed on my dining table. I know that I am carrying only ten kilos of luggage and my baggage will be a few kilos heavier owing to the food stuff. I also know that my waist will be broader by a few inches when I return and I scarcely care for it is for only two weeks in a year where I get to eat what I want.

Yipee!!! 38 hours and I am home!!!!

The Secret Ingredient - X

One small ingredient may change the flavor of a dish. The absence of salt or the presence of excessive amounts of any ingredient may spoil the entire effort put into creating a masterpiece. However, there is one ingredient that can be added in infinite amounts. The more you add the better your dish tastes. That ingredient has no upper limit and can not alter the dish for the worse. It is one ingredient that can be added only at home, by your near and dear.

When I was fifteen, I was preparing for my board exams. My mother brought a plateful of cabbage rice and placed it before me. I gulped a spoonful and relished the taste of the 'SECRET INGREDIENT' (I will call it X for convenience sake). I could sense that my mother had added X in copious amounts and thanked her for it. She smiled back and ate the cabbage rice and exclaimed that she had not added sufficient salt. I retorted that the presence of X, more than made up for the lack of salt. She smiled back and proceeded to add salt to the food and in the process added some more X to the food.

During my 'Master's Days', I would enter my apartment an hour before midnight. My room-mate would have prepared dinner for me and would leave it on the kitchen counter for me to eat. Though the dishes she prepared were meant to be warmed prior to consumption, I would taste a little and proceed to eat the entire bowl without warming it as the taste of X overshadow all other tastes. My room-mate added X generously and never gave a second thought about it.

Nowadays, my current room-mate and I, eat together once in a while. Sometimes I prepare the food and sometimes she does. Yesterday we added excess pepper to the soup we made, and the day before that we added a dash of chilli to the food we made. This chilli was unfortunately extremely spicy and left us with teary eyes. Yet, we enjoyed the dinner we shared as we both had added the ingredient X to the food we were preparing.

This Secret ingredient - X, is an ingredient every person possesses. It costs nothing and can be added to food in unlimited amounts. It will not spoil the food you are making and is completely healthy. You can not buy it or sell it. The only thing you can do is give it away or add it to the food in unlimited quantities. The best part is, the more that you add, the more you will receive. If your are worried about receiving too much of it and cluttering the storage shelf, do not worry as it occupies only space in your mind and heart and not in your shelves.

This ingredient is called 'Love'.

Kalyana Samayal Sadham - A tribute to my cousin

Sunday was one day we looked forward to. It was the precursor to Monday, yet we waited for Sunday Morning as it was the only day of the week in which an elaborate breakfast was prepared at home. Sizzling Hot and Crispy Vadai, Idly, Sambhar and Chutney were placed on the dining table as my two cousins, my brother and I gathered around it to grab the weekend treat and pile our plates. Our Mother, Grandmom and the household help had to constantly shuttle between the kitchen and the dining table to refill the bowls as the food would vanish instantly. Seated next to me on the table was my endearing cousin, Vaisha. She would forget the idlies, sambar and chutney and focus all her attention on the vadais alone. With a knife and fork, she would dissect the vadais into six radial portions what were approximately of equal size. She would then coat the vadais with chilli powder and use a fork to eat them. She was a person of perfection when it came to food. Some of the best gastronomic encounters that I can recall from childhood were with her.

I was a foodie who thoroughly enjoyed to eat, on the other hand, Vaisha paid more attention to the nitty gritty details. She was a natural who loved to experiment with cooking. At the age of  ten (I was eight then), we decided to make Chocolate fudge. We ransacked our fridge and found a bar of Amul Butter. We had a microwave oven that was only a week old. We fetched a glass bowl and melted the bar of butter. I being the taller one fetched a jar of drinking chocolate. The entire content of the jar was then mixed with the melted butter and our fudge was ready. Our grandparents and parents silently ate the fudge complimenting our new venture, without complaining about the waste of chocolate and butter.

Just as a child's scribble graduates to drawing with practice, Vaisha's (and mine) culinary skills matured as we grew up. A decade after the failed chocolate fudge experiment, we baked a chocolate cake together. This time our family actually liked the cake and did not compliment us for the sake of encouragement.

Vaisha has been more of a sister to me than a cousin. Our shared childhood has taught me a lot. When I see our childhood photos or taste my not-so-bad cooking, I realise that we have grown and have parted ways. However the memories we shared will always be an integral part of my life. As my dearest sister, prepares to take her wedding vows tomorrow, I feel a pang of pain as I am unable to partake in this important event of her life. All the important milestones in our lives from birthdays to graduation were celebrated with a feast and this is one feast, one celebration that I have to miss as I am thousands of miles away from home.

Cheers to my dearest cousin, Vaisha and brother-in-law, Ved. Hope you both have a fun filled and fantabulous wedding and life together.

The Sweet taste of Company

Have you ever wondered why restaurants have chairs facing each other rather than facing an inanimate object such as a wall??

For the first decade and half of my life, I never had to eat alone.While I always had my family for company for the first and last meals of the day, the mid-day meal was eaten in the company of my friends. My friends and I sat around in a circle, eating off each others lunch hampers. We passed the little tiffin boxes around and took a mouthful of each persons meal. We relished each others meals and stopped chewing only to complement each others mom for the food that they had whipped up for us. It was not only our mother, but also the mothers of all our friends who contributed to our well being.

The scenario at home was not very different from what it was in school. Every evening my family gathered around our old, yet sturdy dining table. The food was arranged at the centre of the table. My grandfather sat at the head of the table, while the rest of us just sat wherever we pleased. As we ate we would brief each other on the days happenings.

My dining situation during lunch completely changed the day I joined college. Most students were hostelites and took their meals in the college mess. I being a day scholar had the option of eating packed food or heading to a canteen that was situated about half a kilometer away from my class. I opted for the former and realized that most of my classmates who bought packed lunch, consumed it in class sitting among their friends. I, on the other hand had to sit alone as I was the lone She-wolf in the pack.  Once in a while when I felt extremely lonely I would saunter around the campus and chit chat with some juniors, green with envy as they dined with their friends. I spent the lunch hour, every day for three years in this fashion.

The food I consumed was the same that my mom had prepared prior to me joining college. She put in the same effort, yet the food did not taste as good as it had once upon a time. Food is generally enjoyed and appreciated better when you have company. I slowly developed an intense dislike for eating alone, until a batch-mate of mine threw the unwritten protocol to the winds and offered me a Sub from Subway. Until then I never liked subs, yet the sub he offered tasted great. This was not because of the sub, but because of the effort he put into getting me the sub. The fact that he sat across the table from me and shared a meal with me just made the sub all the more special. Soon my other batch-mates also started talking to me. I do not know whether it was because he broke the ice or whether they had changed overnight, but this welcome change made me enjoy the food I consumed much more. Food by itself is an object that provides you nourishment. You can feel full if you eat alone, but you will be satisfied only if you have company.

The only thing much more satisfying than a palette filled with food.... Is a roomfull of company....

Note : To the person who offered me the Sub and broke the glass wall, I do not know if you remember this. I am truly grateful to you for being the harbinger of change. Hats off to you.