Love, Actually: My entry for the Get Published Contest

About: 
Love, Actually is a tale of two hearts, young at heart and free in spirit. The two protagonists of the story are the school-going-kids-next-door. Watch them grapple with issues of love and friendship, love versus friendship and much more.. They will sway you with their intensity and tickle you with their innocence. Will he or won’t she? Will love keep up? Read on to know more.

Excerpt:
“Wake me UP WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS…oooOOO”

Snuggling cozily in her quilt, she stealthily inched out two fingers from under the covers - just enough to reach the alarm as it continued to get louder, cross new decibel limits with every oncoming chorus. Darn, where does this goddamn thing get turned off?

Then she remembered, it was 1st of October. Haha, she chuckled at the rather cocky choice of alarm tone - smiled slowly and drifted back into the warmth of her quilt and the convenience of her dreams.

She loved dreams.

She dreamt of Paris, the ever higher Eiffel Tower, of love haven and unfettered freedom, of the misty haze and the snowy Alps..her reddish cheeks in the winter chill, her picky nose in the piercing winds..

She also dreamt of Harvard Law and corporate cases, of heady success and a great career.. and all the good things that money could and couldn’t buy.

And then, she dreamt of love.. His genuine smile and scruffy stubble, his soft whispers and sturdy arms.. wrapped loosely on her waist. Oh, why wouldn’t he say it, should she? Doesn’t he know he’s awesome?

“Urrgghhh, snooze will go to hell for sure”, she murmured as the rubbed her eyes into the ticklish sunlight. Wait a minute, sunlight?

She jumped out of bed with the determined ferocity of a starving lion, hurling abuses at the clock, her stupid best friend and well, all things that did or did not come in her way as she hankered for clothes, shoes and what not – frenzied, prancing and obviously late for school.

 ***********************

“And you know, her hair smells sooo good”, he smiled, sheepish, almost guilty at his revelation.

“So have you asked her out?”

“Noooo, not yet. She’s my best friend and you know how girls are, right? I think she just sees me as a friend and I would just spoil our friendship too.”

“But don’t you like her?”

“I do, I can take her no, but I can’t stop talking to her. Crap, why does she have to be so perfect.. How do I tell her.. this is just so crazy. We talk about everything but this – and I’ve practiced it about a 100 times, just can’t get myself to say it”, he mumbled, his incoherent thoughts rambling randomly out of his rather troubled mind.

As they entered the classroom and took their chairs, he quickly ‘reserved’ the seat on his right, smiling helplessly to himself. She’d be late and he loved that.

***********************

This is my entry for the HarperCollins-IndiBlogger Get Published Contest, which is run with inputs fromYashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

If you like it enough and would like to read more, please do shower your love here: http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/544/

Parched.

I just hope you're happy now,

And all your deeds are done,

For I don't want no arid 

drops, burnt sooty by the sun.

It does.

Lest I forget..

A day to remember:

• Free from office at 6:20 PM (earliest ever!)
• Very little work
• Stuck in traffic for over an hour in the most awesome weather ever

The Millenium City has finally been blessed. Allow me to share this with you - There is a slight drizzle in the air here, and I say 'in the air' because as I look out the window, soft droplets are melting quietly along my cheeks - like smiles masquerading as tears.. (isn't that a first?).
A few others though, are actually smiling back at me.. as they glide gleefully on the window-glass of my cab.. like polished ballet dancers on an ice stage - obliviously elegant in their moves, yet fully aware of my poring eyes marveling unbashedly at their style.
Wait a minute, they're in tune with FM's "Naa Chode Yaariyan..."

The breeze is sneaking playfully through my jacket too - its warm enough to keep me smiling, yet chilly enough to redden my cheeks. 

*chuckles to self*

Did I tell you I'm stuck in traffic?

Almost.

I huffed around in frenzy

I had just been shown the bone

Now I must pounce at just-right time

And then he'd be, all mine to own

Was there time to smile some bit?

I had just been shown the bone

Or should I plan the next move

His entry to my zone.  

I really thought I'd grab it, for

I had just been shown the bone

I believed that God would favor me

I'd been true you know, my own 

They call it over-confidence or perhaps,

some random crazy dreams

I jumped and lunged to grab it, but

fell flat on my knees

A cracked up bone and ugly scars

Did finally clear the fog

Life's a bitch and that's that

Bleh, I'm such a dog.

..of Cells, Biology and Cloning. Or Not.

Name - The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

Author - Rebecca Skloot

Publisher - Pan Macmillian

Price - 325 INR

Pages - 377

If you think, biology is "not your type", this one is a must read!

"The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, is the story of a woman who revamped the course of medical history. Except that she didn't know it. Neither did her family or children or husband or friends. 

Medical science progressed, and companies continued to make millions off Henrietta's cells, while her family continued to struggle in abject poverty, little education, occasional crime and a lot of injustice. 

The epic "hands-on-her-hips"
file photo of Henrietta Lacks 

Henrietta was a 31 year old, poor African-American tobacco farmer - native of South Virginia, mother of five, caregiver of many more - when she she died, quite suddenly, of cervical cancer, just eight months after her first hospital visit. This was waaayyy back, in 1951.

She was treated at the John Hopkins Hospital in Maryland, and waaay back then, treatment (both medical and otherwise) for the 'colored' wasn't exactly in black and white. 

The doctors did some. And then they didn't do some. As a part of what they did do, a small coin-sized sample of her tissue (cancerous and normal) was taken to the lab for culturing. 

Crazy balls!

Cancerous cells, put simply, grow like 'crazy balls' (remember those?) pounce. On and On and On. Just as the balls don't lose momentum for a long, long, time, cancerous cells never grow old. So they continue to divide like crazy throughout their extended youth! And this of course messes with our system and causes waay too many aberrant cells in our body (cancer).

Picture this: An India-Pakistan final cricket match, and a nail-biting close. We need five runs off the last ball of the last over when Sachin T smashes living daylights of the shot! Woohoo, and we clinch the title!

Those were somewhat the feelings of George Gey - the researcher in whose lab Henrietta's cells were first grown. Scientists all over the world had been trying to grow human cells in the laboratory since long and Henrietta's cells were nothing short of miracle. They clinched a win for his lab, his love for science, and an never-to-be-forgotten landmark in the history of medical science.

Slowly after that, Henrietta Lacks (HeLa) cells became the standard in medical practice. They were used for everything from drug-testing to cell-cloning, from vacuum subjection (they were sent up in space!) to radiation treatment. They have been reproduced, reused, standardized, treated, tested, twisted, tackled, even tampered with.. in every imaginable and unimaginable way. In fact, it is estimated that there is no person on earth who has not benefited either directly or indirectly from her cells.. Talk about impact.

Ironically though, it was her own family which was left, ortracized and oblivious, to all of these developments for over 20 years. 

Deborah Lacks, Henrietta's youngest daughter,
was just six, when
she lost her mother to cervical cancer

In Henrietta's youngest daughter, Deborah Lacks words: "If our mother cells done so much for medicine, how come her family can't afford to see no doctors?"

I don't think anyone - from the doctors at John Hopkins to the writer of this book had an answer.

And so, this is a harrowing tale of racism and injustice, science and progress, the world and its ways, scientific discovery and emotional depth, biology and ethics, and yes, the crazy cells that changed our world for good.

The writer's decade long research, with writers, scientists, her family, friends, neighbors, and lawyers deserves all the praise that it can possibly get. Rebecca Skloot managed to weave entire scenes, sequences and series from Henrietta's life - she helped us re-live her joys, weep quietly in her travails, pray silently for soul and most importantly, know the person behind the marvel called HeLa.

Deborah Lacks, and her brother Zakariyya, as they saw their mother's cells under a microscope
for the first time. She pressed a cold vial of the cells to her lips and whispered "You're famous [mother]. Just that nobody knows it."

PS. I am totally in awe of the writer, her writing style and her persistence to bring alive this story to every reader! Science Journalism is so totally awesome. Here is the link to a small interview that she gave shortly after the release of her book.. :) 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=4AuOWSOzdcA&NR=1

Happy Reading - also, if anyone is in Delhi/Gurgaon/Chandigarh and would like to read this book, I will be happy to pass on my copy.. Let me know! 

Happy Birthday to Me!

Courtesy: Internet

If procrastination were a religion, I'd be God.

I've been wanting to write about my birthday (and lots of other stuff), for really long now (uh, my birthday was 2 months back!) and I am amazed at how I convince myself that that next weekend, will be the weekend (you know what I mean?).

Anyway, my birthday this time was really special - my sister joined B-school (Wohoo, the loser me has been trying for years now), my parents came over to Delhi, my sisters and I were together and I got to meet my cousins too..
And, I also went to Ummeed (an NGO under the Dil Se Campaign, that I work with on weekends.. Basically, we teach/mentor/ have fun/spend time/ organize moral-based games activities for the children there).

So, I was trying to hammer down a few concepts of Quadratic Equations (and remembering how my dad used to scream if I didn't understand or atleast try to understand the concept behind each maths problem-"If you don't know the basics,how will you move ahead!!").. I remember thinking exactly the same thing with this kid.. I looked at him with utter disgust, when he tried to learn a maths problem.. Uh, I thought, this silly kid is trying to learn maths, huh.. If you don't know the basics, how will you move ahead, tell me! And then I controlled my temper (in my mind) and started to re-explain. Uff, I thought, I don't like kids one bit.

Meanwhile, my two friends Harpreet & Deepkiran, were playing softball with children in the next room. They called me saying they'll need a little help. So, I gave this child  a few problems (by the way, this trick really works and I think all teachers use it - whenever you want to get rid of a child for some time, give him a set of maths problems that you know he'll struggle with. And tell him/her with authority.. If you cant solve these then we'll go back to the Chapter in Class II.. And quietly leave the kid to solve his own problems :P Now have your chai, coffee and come back when you wish. PS. Remember to act exasperated when you're back!)

Anyway, I went to the next room to see a bunch of around twenty kids, each with a card in hand!!
I don't know whose idea it was, but it a really really awesome!
I gave them sweets (which by the way, they brutally snatched and seized right out of my hands.. Two of them fought for a Ravalgon, like army men on the Kashmir border (except that we sorted this issue much faster).. It was striking to note that when the supply of toffees was lesser than the demand, they didn't show the slightest hint of the manners we've been trying to teach them for so long.. (Urgh, did I tell you I don't like kids one bit)

Anyway, it was a great great feeling to get those cards and they made my birthday special. Hmmm, maybe they're not so bad after all (yeah, the kids).

Happy Birthday to me.

Here are a few of the cards I got:

Amita Bidi, Ha!

           Isn't the cake absolutely delectable? Its fresh fruit mind you, this kid has good taste.

I like the hearts with hands and feet and wings. Its like, literally giving wings to your imagination.

This card came in a matching envelope with blue taped border. Talk about perfection! Except that I don't like it when they spell my name incorrectly (Urgh, these kids. "If you don't know the basics, how will you move ahead!")