Deep Adhya, PhD

Happy holidays. Liberty building, London. The Christmas break can be quite an ordeal. When you are in a serious monogamous relationship with your work, like I sometimes wish to believe, moments arise when you want a break from it. I look forward to sleeping in till noon, and watching endless TV shows. I look forward to not having to deal with uncomfortable conversation, or any conversation at all, not having to send emails (and survive the anxiety afterwards of an uncertain feeling in the gut that I surely must have written something inappropriate in it), and not having to shower and get dressed in the layers of clothing required in the cold weather. Then the break arrives, and I am in heaven. For a couple of days at least, as I get to check all the boxes on the list of to-dos (or lack thereof) that I was holding off till the break arrived (like writing what I felt about it). But humans are slave to their habits, and I am human for sure, I think. It starts to go downhil...

Back in the day when Clarkson, May and Hammond were still an item on BBC, they did city challenges where the three used different modes of transport to go from point A to point B. The modes of transport were usually a car, public transport and if the city had a river, a boat. The challenges were also accompanied by maps with moving GPS trackers to show how they were progressing. It was exciting because you always knew that the underdog, such as public transport had a fighting chance to win. However they never tried walking as an option. So here’s my Top Gear inspired bus vs walking challenge. Let me start by giving a little background. My morning commute to work entails taking the 381 to Peckham Bus Station, then taking the 345 from Peckham Bus Station to work. I have been doing this commute for the past year, five days a week, and I have been through every possible scenario. The optimum scenario, the unremarkable, not stressful one, is when the 381 arrives within 5 minutes o...

The ‘JOMO’ (the Joy Of Missing Out) movement has started. I have to admit I didn’t know much about the ‘FOMO’ (the Fear Of Missing Out) movement that it is trying to replace. FOMO has always been a thing among competitive people even before the internet. If you recall those pesky kids who used to eavesdrop on your private conversation then later gossip about it, or those who copied your homework just because you would do a better job (so why bother making an effort to do it themselves), that’s FOMO in action. Some sections of the human race have always been obsessed with the lives of others, not out of curiosity but out of a need to enrich their own lives. Now we have a name for it, thanks to the internet. When doing things became so easy that we could do all things we desired by just sitting on the bed in our undies, we thought, “Woah!” What were we missing out on all this time? So the race began. Everyone wanted to experience as many things as possible in their ‘short’ ...

When we were in high school, I was the shy guy in the group. It was a boys’ only school. Some of my friends had girlfriends. Others didn’t. I didn’t. I always felt like I was missing out on something. But I didn’t really want girlfriends. I just wanted to have some friends and some good experiences that I could share with my friends. All I ever did was study. I was made to study. It made me depressed. I was the only child. There were only my very neurotic parents who never had any patience for anything that didn’t appeal to them. They were begrudgingly married to each other by their ambitious parents and they had decided they were going to take out their grudges on everyone in the vicinity. They didn’t like each other. Not one bit. All their emotions were buried six feet under the ground. I don’t know what happened in their lives that killed their emotions. They didn’t like emotions. They didn’t like anyone who showed emotions. That included me. So they tried their best to keep me fr...

‘Caveat emptor’ is a legal term which means, “… the buyer alone is responsible for checking the quality and suitability of goods before a purchase is made.” In this information age where random words welded together into sentences are broadcast around the world more often than farts are broadcast through a room, the validity of the words need to be deeply scrutinized before believing. I have known this since the beginning of the internet, but before now never been able to put a name to it. I first heard this phrase on a news show where a woman TV journalist lashed at a woman victim of sexual abuse, who thought the TV journalist had a funny hairstyle. The said victim was accusing Aziz Ansari for acting weirdly and inappropriately on their first date. The incident brought about a lot of negative press for the accuser, and her credibility was being questioned, because said accuser was not doing justice to the #MeToo campaign by being mean to another woman and potential victim to ina...

How did we end up here? We are farmed rainbow trout ( Oncorhynchus mykiss ), born to be baked in the oven. We are from the salmon family, an oily fish with pink flesh. Our ancestors were first identified in the Kamchatka peninsula in Siberia. The name ‘mykiss’ has nothing to do with my kiss. I don’t have a kiss and even if I had one, it wouldn’t be fatal. We live in fresh water and are extremely adaptable, therefore widely farmed around the world. We are probably the most common species of trout around, spawning wilfully and leading other species to extinction. But our natural habitat is still the Pacific Ocean, and our wild cousins only swim into freshwater to breed. But the real magic of our existence lies on the dinner plate. We have a tender flesh and a mild, nutty flavour. Our wild cousins taste better because of their varied diet and plentiful exercise, but we are high in vitamin B and our flavours are appealing enough for anyone to salivate when cooked with our...

The food in Los Angeles feels like the desert it is located in. The small neighbourhoods interspersed between long highways is hardly a place that is worth remembering. The food is hardly worth remembering either. There are restaurants and cafes, but they all seem to be suffering from the same condition: drought. Everywhere I go, the food is tasty, but they have skimped on one essential ingredient, water. In Los Angeles, it is wiser to use oil than water. A Korean and a Vietnamese fast food joint sell sautéed meat with rice, both very dry, and needing soda to digest. Irony. A 24 hour grocery shop has a buffet counter with chicken legs swimming in oil, and beef ribs floating in its own fat. Cafes sell sandwiches, others sell pizzas, and even more sell the same meat and rice combo, using different spice mixes claiming to originate from different parts of the world. But all need to be consumed with fluids. The irony I hope, is clear. Vietnamese food joint - Shop House K...

I am not a great cook. I don’t have the patience. I use my alchemy skills that help me get by in the lab, to help me feed myself each day without having to decide between speed and taste. So I set myself a challenge when I bought a £2 turkey leg from ASDA. It weighed 700g, was a foot long and looked like it came straight out of The Flintstones. I was elated but a bit worried about how to go about it, when I turned to father Google and mother YouTube for help. They both sang the same tune. Brine it for 24 hours. I was not going to do it. It would mean having to wait for it patiently while it sat in the fridge for no reason for one whole day. But I needed an alternative to make it work without having to go through the messy brining process. Why turkey leg then, since there is the much easier chicken option, which also makes excellent roast and grill? A month ago, I visited Dorset to celebrate a traditional Christmas with my landlord Bart and Helen. Although, I have had ...

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...

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 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...