Research Blues

A long time ago, i decided to become a researcher in whichever science i would be permitted to do. I will not pretend, my initial fascination for science had nothing to do with feynamanish curiosity. It was more of the curiosity-such as what is there inside my toy piano that sounds out the not so melodious tunes. This unstructured curiosity led to the dismantling of many of my toys.

It might be of interest to mention that only a completely random set of events landed me in biology.The random set of events directly supports paradigms described by the butterfly effect.
My interest for science was in no less way kindled by accounts of heroism and romantic bravado- of scientists who found a way against all odds.

I am no less(!!!), after reasonable struggle(15 years of painful exams), i joined mainstream research-not that i do anything of purpose.

I joined, with dreams of hypotheses and cerebration, of intellectual brain storming and artistic creativity, of everything that would keep me happy.Those dreams seem to have been left behind on the loft.


THe first half of my course was spent in a place that was magnificent with all its malaise.There were lots of hypotheses,cerebration etc on how to outwit your fellow student whose adulation was gonna win over my supervisor-and make my life miserable ofcourse.My supervisor was one of those who hadnt read a paper which had come out after his phd,so he was quite well in touch with the times.


The first few days of my seconds half has seen me cleaning tissue culture rooms,glassware and other arbid things(such as filling forms draawn up by some gorm) which has nothing to do with science.

I am here right now, listening to a Blues station, trying to read brave accounts of scientists before me-to keep my flag flying.Will I stand and be counted as one more brave hero? I dont know, i dont want to particularly know the answer to that right now-the answer might be quite frightening-considering the fact that i am not sure if i am capable of doing the tasks i am assigned to do.

This entry, by the way, is dedicated to the seniormost Phd students in my lab-who for 4 years of madness have stood there- rocks of logic admist all teh misery-of cleaning rooms and bottles,fighting with brainless gorms and bring there for their juniors-just when they needed them the most.