Genes, Credence & More

Words, no matter how sumptuous and fancy, sound so shallow when they lack a basic insight. With science being in the lime light lately, certain terms, otherwise confined to the scientific lexicon, have become an integral part of common discourse. Genes, DNA, Genetics, are some such examples. Masses pick up such words from the media but fail to comprehend the true meaning and apropos avail. As a contemporary and futuristic biologist, it annoys me. Not because every Jack around the corner should be conversant in elaborate biological terminology, but because the common man in my country derives all his wisdom and acumen from the deceiving and deceitful media. Of course there are exceptions, exceptions that reflect atleast figments of reality and veracity. But a vast majority of them has mastered the art of concoction and fabrication, the sole purpose being fiscal success and public esteem.

It annoys me to see that these ‘people’ have lost the urge to question, the incentive to the quest for truth. They might quote lines from movies about DNA tests being availed to identify an assassin or disclose the father of an illegitimate child. Or gossip about the genes and genetic composition of others. But as an answer to a ‘Why’ or ‘How’, the only answer one gets is an impassive and hollow gaze. Even worse, they lack the impetus and motivation to turn a few pages in a book or log onto Wikipedia to find out what ‘something’ is and how ‘something’ works. (I don’t buy the crap about India being a backward country and not having much access to the computers or the internet, when a majority of the urban youth spends majority of their lives on Facebook, Twitter or Orkut.) What exasperates and peeves me is that inspite of having all sorts of technology and resources at their disposal, these ‘people’ fail to take advantage. Why this ignorance? Why this servitude to curbed and limited information? Why do they have blinkers on their eyes and see what is shown, instead of seeking the truth?

However, reeling back to the point, the complexities and intricacies of life have hardly ever been put into the words of the common man. In simple & rustic words, Genetics and Fate are very alike. Indeed the genetic composition of a body is its biological fate. Every physical being has a discrete and exclusive set of genes. They might be similar or imbricate for individuals but never identical. DNA is the parchment which God chose to pen down the biological fate on, wrapped it up and tucked it into our cells. The axioms of Fate are also pertinent for Genetics. The genetic composition of a body not only encodes for blood relationships and predisposition to diseases, but every minute and trivial biological event is somewhat predetermined. And just as fate evolves by our ‘karma’, the genetic fate can also be modified by our ‘karma’ towards our body, what we do to keep it healthy (or rather unhealthy), what we devour, how often we loose our temper and how frequently we tread into the fresh air.

My words might sound notably incongruous and devout at this instant. Me, a patron and disciple of science, preaching about God and his divine powers, might stick out a bit. I am a Believer… A Thinker, yet a Believer. Through centuries science has been parted from religion. People of science have denounced religion. And the men of religion have shunned science and its apostles. To me rationality is an extrapolation of ideologies. Deeper I plunge into the abysmal ocean of Science, more tenacious, vehement and profound becomes my credence in God and his celestial powers. For something as intricate and abstruse as a living being, and a world adorned with a diverse assortment of such beings, all linked by an elaborate food chain can be contrived, spawned and fostered by only ‘someone’ with inmitable competence and dexterity. Life in itself is evidence of the existence of a higher power, The Almighty!

Once again Genetics, is the biological destiny of a body. It is in part inherited from both parents but is pooled and amalgamated in such a way that it is as exclusive and unique as one’s fate. It is predestined.. but its clandestine. No one can perceive what lies encrypted and concealed inside the cells. But the secret unfolds when the time comes. Is it not Him then who delineated and conceived all of this? One may ponder if God created the world then who created God? But is The Creator himself obliged to be amenable by sheer mortals like us. Religion might not make sense and appear delusive on several occasions but pristine faith and unconditional conviction are not bound by the realms of religion. I am a Believer.. I believe in God, in a higher celestial power but I am not restrained by any religion and rituals :D 

Deviating Perceptions

This is a new generation. A new one like so many others. But it is not perpetual. It’s a generation powered by Addiction, fuelled by Awareness, angered by Imperfections, and grieved by Failures. An epoch coveting a new world, a reformed world. A generation with a dream, a vision and a belief that not the path but the destination matters. A generation striving to turn their sand castles into concrete. We are a generation armed with exceptional Reasoning and Logical Skills.

We are… YES..  ADDICTION.. personified!! Addicted not to grim inclinations or fatal drugs but addicted to the work we do, addicted to the dreams we nurture, addicted to the things we want. We are addicted to the internet, to the cell phone and our iPODs. It’s a desire for success, for achievement and a quest for knowledge which drives this generation. An addiction to perfection and contempt for conciliation is what holds us united.

It’s a generation of reason. ‘Why’ and not ‘How’ is the word of choice. We catechize, ‘What’s the point?’ We seek Reason and Logic. We don’t evade hard work and travail but we loathe and shun futile toil.  We might appear imprudent and capricious but we harbour the potential to reshape the world. We may seem lackadaisical and oblivious but once we ferret out a path, we follow it with an ardent allegiance. We are expected to abide by the rules formulated by the veterans, but we prefer to make our own. We do not hesitate to assert ourselves or reveal our perceptions, but we are apprehensive that perhaps no one but us will discern them. We do not aim to change things, as most of them have been rendered permanent. We hold a vision to start afresh, to make things new, advanced and without a loophole. “Life isn’t perfect, come to terms with it.” was the maxim before. “If life isn’t perfect, we redefine perfection.” is the motto we believe in. The veteran generations were driven by fire in their bloods which clogged their brains. We carry a cool head on steady shoulders.  

It’s a generation which is respectful and reverent but denies to accept forced decisions, a generation meticulous and nimble but not timid or scared to take risks, religious but not superstitious. We heed and appreciate wisdom but we credence to nothing without reason. We may take your advice but we prefer to learn from our experiences, not your mistakes. We are keen to adopt and learn from your dexterity and knowledge but we refuse to be led. We choose to live our lives and pursue our fantasies on our own terms.   A generation which has technology at its disposal and the ability to harness nature. The masters of trouble shooting and improvisations. We are not scared to step out of the nest and flap our wings. If we fail to fly, the wind might carry us for a while.

We behold a magical world in our minds and aim to recreate the magic in this pragmatic world. A world where the word ‘impossible’ does not exist in the human jargon. A world where everything is just a click away, where nothing remains arcane and obscure. We are determined, headstrong and efficacious with thoughts that are radical and contemporary. Money, fame and flattery are insignificant, achievement and self satisfaction are imperative and substantial. This is s generation which believes in deeds, not virtues. We speak many tongues, have many faces, but it all converges to one dream, one vision.

PS: This was one of those posts for which I could not think of an appropriate title. I owe this apt and pertinent caption to my dearest friend ‘Sonu’ who has been the sole reinforcement during awful brain blocks.

SnowFlakes

With the months, the colour of my world keeps changing. From the soothing and suave green of the summer, through the resplendent amber-red brew of autumn, the dreary and drab brown of fall to the seraphic white of the winter. Each shade of nature has its own benedictions and nuisances.

Today the first flakes of snow descended upon the otherwise pale and plebeian earth. Gazing at the drony and dreamy descend of the fluffy and flimsy snowflakes, swirling their way to the ground, somehow wanes the pace of the world around. The tiny pearly flakes landing on the shoulders and getting trapped in the hair render a transcendent bliss. The world draped in silver reflects a pristine sanctitude and tranquility. The light reflecting from the ivory of the earth illuminates the melanic gloom cast by the gray sky. The white and the gray make every scene appear like a portrait up on the wall.

I remember the first time I witnessed this exquisite phenomenon. It was in November 2005, my freshman year! An 8:15 a.m. General BCCB class! The professor, since already had some experience in giving lectures to snow-deprived morons from tropical countries who had never witnessed snow fall before for a few years now, warned us before the commencement of the lecture that in case there is snowfall anytime during the lecture, students who lack the poise and would like to run out or gawk through the window, should be dissuaded from attending the lecture. On this threat, me and my fellow brownies, exchanged a gaze which murmured “What is he talking about? Lecture is way more important!”  .. 20 minutes later… more than half of the class was at the window with eyes open wide gaping at the white fleecy flakes drifting down the gray sky. The professor simply shook his head and went back to teaching about the Mitochondria. Tonight the ground is too warm to be silver. The snowflakes that kiss the ground tonight melt away. Snowfall throughout the after hours shall cool down the earth and bring forth and ivory dawn. The streets, the cars, the roofs and the trees, all shall be clad in a snowy mask. When the fluffy flakes drifting down the sky transform into a relentlessly frigid blizzard, it is hard to comprehend. Beyond the snowflakes point, snowfall seems pretty only when within walls and under a roof.

The snow of today is the slush of tomorrow. Once the angelic descend seizes, the appreciation for the scenic beauty transforms into a smug on the faces. Walking through alternating patches of muddle-puddles of melted ice cold water and slippery patches of refrozen ice (which pose potential perils to one’s survival) make you swear between freezing breaths. The hues of the changing weather also bring about a modification in the moods. The white and gray bring along a gloom and dullness which spares none. Early morning blues, waking up rues, shower scare, all come along the package. Nevertheless, the first flakes of snow still endear me and lure me to the window. My jaws drop down and eyes become wider, no matter how many times I have perceived this pristine phenomenon.  

The white also brings along the crimson. Snow marks the beginning of the festival season in the West. The twinkle of the candles, the tinkering of bells, the hanging stars and the smell of warm wine, all together add to the festive mood. Much more worthwhile than the scenic beauty or the tropical fascination with snow is the change it brings along. The change which marks the end of a season and a new beginning, a new season.

The White Tiger

“ The creature that’s born only once in a generation in the jungle.”

“ Black stripes and sunlit white fur flashed through the slits in the dark bamboo. He was walking in the same line again and again, from one end of the bamboo bars to the other, then turning around and repeating it over, at exactly the same pace, like a thing under a spell.”

- Aravind Adiga

Anyone who has ever seen a white tiger in its cage, knows that it is hard to disrupt the gaze and walk away. The graceful curves and the perfectly cadenced & enchanting gait leave the spectator spellbound. The elegance and grandeur in the demeanor of this creature has rendered it a matchless uniqueness. It fosters great power and vigor complemented with infinite patience and judgment. He has the serenity to pace back and forth in his cage, in silence, glancing now and then at his awestruck spectators. He digresses himself by attempting to live a generic and modest life like all the other animals in confinement. But deep down he is certain that he is not a sheep in the herd. Time and again, he lets out a thundering roar which betrays the truth and asserts his edge over others. He is, indeed, irrespective of the globalization of the jungle, The King of the Jungle. He is The White Tiger.

Dreams, great and extraordinary ones, are seldom born, as seldom as the white tiger himself. They are in many aspects synonymous with the white tiger. Since their conception, they are confined to the back of our minds, swaying back and forth, lingering in silence until realization dawns. Dreams, abeyant and unrealized, in the coop of our minds share the agony of the debilitated white tiger. Bound by horizons of reality, norms of the society and the flaws of the human nature, our dreams share the plight of the powerful creature bound by the bamboo bars. They try to befit in the prosaic lives of the run-of-the-mill populace, but they founder. We become the tongue-tied spectators who stare with pitiful eyes and wonder what it would be like if the captives of our mind were set free. But most of us lack the mettle to let our dreams even let out the roar of pride. After an eternity of agonizing existence, they just perish in their turmoil with reality.

The White Tiger in the bamboo bars in different in only one way. Man, blessed with the sharpest weapon, its brain, has made good use of it and is therefore capable of restricting this creature in confinement. His judgment has conveyed him the fact that any attempts to break free from these confinements would lead to dire consequences. And since he is entrapped by forces way beyond his bounds, in reality he has no choice. However the greatest impediment the white tiger within us has to confront is us and our scare of failure. If only we could let go of this fright and make an honest endeavour, the white tiger cooped up in our mind can breathe in a free world and take the shape of reality. We would no longer be one of the rats in a swarm following the bagpiper. Thus the white tiger within us, indeed has a choice. Whether to make the choice or not is our call !