Deep Adhya, PhD

It’s winter. The days are shorter. The weather is cooler. The holidays are here. ‘Tis the season to wrap oneself in woolly clothes, and look fluffy like balls of fur. Cuteness is all the rage during the festive season, and every human being tall or short, looks like a walking cat or dog waiting to be cuddled. But wait. It’s the mildest December in 70 years. Forget about the dreams of snow. Even a Christmas jumper is proving to be somewhat of an excess. Wearing anything more than a sweatshirt with Santa’s face printed on it seems like an ordeal. Even the North Pole is melting. By ‘North Pole’ I mean the makeshift ice skating rink on Parker’s Piece, which also happens to be a hideous replica of London’s Winter Wonderland, and dubbed by many as a Nazi prison camp. At this rate we might as well stop visiting Sao Paolo to avoid the ‘harsh’ winter, and save money instead for the next iphone. But life goes on, among fields of daffodils and bees and middle-aged skinny dip...

Skyscrapers. The generic American city invites us in Chicago. The grandeur of tall towers and condominiums reach dizzying heights, the vision of great architects jostling for space in a world reminiscent of Ayn Rand’s New York City. Chicago is a melee of architectural marvels. Some are quite breath-taking, yet some of them are questionable monuments of human endeavour. Some are copies of Gothic architecture, interspersed by exuberant monuments of innovation. Something that I hoped to be translated into its food. Chicago is famous for its deep dish pizza, barbequed ribs and Mexican food. I was taken by surprise at the influence that Mexican food had on the cuisine of Chicago. I mean, geographically Mexico is more than 2000 miles away from Chicago. It does show how much the Americans love Mexican food. The first restaurant my jetlagged friends and I visited was, unsurprisingly, a Mexican restaurant. It was called ‘Flo’ and its décor was a reflection of the tried and te...

Lensfield Road Crossing In UK, it’s outlandish to believe that a town or city can be completely flat. Cambridge, in fact, is quite flat. But thanks to a hill in the north called Castle Hill such outlandish are precariously kept at bay. It’s a lone mole on the smooth skin that makes this part of the land, called the Fens. Cycling up that hill can be quite a challenge, especially at night, after booze and fine cuisine at a formal dinner. Down the hill on a sunny day can be a real joy. So I did one day, swooping down Castle Street like an eagle swooping to catch its prey. My prey? Another cyclist a few metres ahead of me. I had to catch him before we reached the Bridge Street crossing. It didn’t happen. The guy had too much momentum downhill. So I hoped the lights would turn green before I reached the line. But they didn’t, and I screeched to a halt. The flow was already broken. A few tense moments passed as I tried to read the mind of the cyclist beside me. The signal turne...

A fortnight ago, Cambridge experienced an evening of heavy rain, lightning and thunder. When I shared this with friends not from Cambridge, they heard me out and tried to be nice. It was clear that they didn’t believe that it could have occurred - a five hour long thunderstorm in a region more famous for being one of the drier ones in the country? The BBC failed to predict it, and if the Gods were the BBC the clouds were them playing a match of rugby. Ordinarily, on a dry day in a desert this would have been a blessing. It was like a perfect murder, no one believed it because there was no evidence. The weather forecasters said, “Clear sky,” and the minor local mishaps did not reach the press afterwards. I became the victim of a twisted celestial game of hide and seek, like a true detective solving a crime, he knows what occurred but does not have proof to show because the villain was really good at covering his tracks. In retrospect, my life has turned into a game of cat and ...

It is so hot because the summer sun shines, Thank you for reading I hope it rhymes. I wish I could peel off my skin to cool down, This is silly so please don’t frown. I wish it was cooler my brain is boiling, Words float about but non sense forming. Why isn’t there a fan for when there is no breeze, A chest of ideas in my brain I keep but lost the keys. When it was cold I had to wear a hat, Started to write when I wish I could chat. My hat is a roller rolling a grassy pitch, Used to rolling out ideas I wish I had ditched. Things dissolve in summer sweat when the hair is waxed, So I take a different stand and then my lobes are taxed. It becomes heavy and the hair fall like autumn leaves, Surprised you have read this far ignoring all my peeves. The weather is never perfect my patience always shot, I am indebted for your patience over the lines I have wrought. And my head always aches or my belly or back, Pens dwell in my drawer by no means...

It was as dull as ditch water that day. It was overcast and the heavens were covered with so much cloud and mist that prayers were not reaching it. I was in London walking down Coldhabour Lane, when a dove flew straight past me. But, it soon turned back. I could hear it labour against the heavy air. Now it flew in the opposite direction, and then swerved again! This strange activity had now captured my complete attention. I walked at a slow pace about to cross the road ahead when I observed the bird, coming towards me. It looked to its left, then took a right turn, almost as if it was driving a car and wanted to check for any oncoming traffic from the other direction. It was one disoriented dove. I felt a bit disoriented myself as I tried to figure out the reason behind the bird’s flight patterns. For a moment it felt like a scene from a cheap sci-fi flick, where the dove was actually a robot drone sent to spy on us. My train of thought was broken soon as the dove made ano...

INT. OFFICE LOBBY Office social in the evening, with lots of booze around, and many people talking to each other. A I am doing a PhD because ... You know ... I was doing my Master's and I really got interested in neuro. B Ya, me too! C Same here. (They both get a drink and start mingling in the crowd.) D Wow! I am here because I couldn't get into med school.

INT. LAB OFFICE Four guys taking an afternoon break from work, meeting in the kitchen making some coffee. D What are you guys doing in the evening? A Oh, I have to clone some cells, and do some transfection, might be quite late before I go home. B I have a ton of confocal images that need analysis. I have to submit to X by tomorrow. C I have actually almost finished for the day, but I will be going to a talk from here, in an hour. D Okay! I am going home and cooking dinner. EXIT.

INT. PUB Four friends gather for drinks. A God made us in his image, but gave us cancer to deal with. I am working on a gene, if you delete it, cancer will be cured. B God made us in his image, but gave us mental disorders to deal with. I am working on a program able to detect abnormalities in the genome of patients suffering from complex mental disorders. C God made us in his image, but gave us mortality to deal with. I am working on a mouse model that presents the symptoms of aging, and I am very close to making a breakthrough that will make us immortal. D (Confused, and a bit uncertain, anxiously flitting through his mobile) ...

Tapasvi Maharaj: Many ages ago, the whole universe used to speak the same language. Everybody was friendly and understood each other. But soon they became so well acquainted with each other that they did little else other than talk. This habit of talking, which used to be perceived as a very healthy exercise, soon became a problem. The collective power of human beings rose to such level because of this that all creatures of the planet were being wiped out, and soon there were very little wildlife left on earth. As centuries passed, humans evolved to talk louder and louder, and soon they were talking so loud that the din of the voices was proving to be a distraction for Lord Shiva, who enjoyed nothing better than meditating in peace. He was soon aroused from his meditation and quickly developed a temper. He had to come down to earth as an avatar and mingle among the humans to see what was going on. His peregrinations astounded him. Humans were talking so much that they were soon...