Faces of India

Mr. AP Sharma didn’t let his voice go low ever, even when his hands were busy in labeling the plant cell organelle. He was discussing the functioning of each component of cell in his biology class.

“Students! Studies about cells enriched gradually, with every upcoming small development. And those developments resulted due to talented foreign scientists”, the teacher went on.

“1665, Robert Hooke, first discovered the cell. 1676, Anton van Leeuwenhoek, provided further evidence of cells. 1838, the German biologists Schleiden and Schwann advanced the idea that all organisms are made of cells. 1859, German physician and biologist Rudolph Vichow stated that all cells divide and that is how new cells are made.”

“How boring the class is. And how arrogant Sharma sir have become; he never remarked the ‘most’ important contribution ever made, which an ‘Indian’ had given”; a student in the class conversed in his mind, stressing on several words. Ankush, his name was. He posited in his mind, “Jagadish Chandra Bose, an Indian scientist said that plants have life; and this was the most important contribution. And what about Aryabhatta? He gave us the zero; and using that only you calculated the cell division rate”.

“I feel pity for you Sharma sir; you have lost love for your nation”.

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Crinkled Pages From My Diary...

June 20, 2011
6:00 pm

It has been more than two weeks of my stay here in Gujarat, at my home on this holiday. The time flows, I realise this well when I have no work to do, no classes to attend. Here in this small room, sheltered with the hot roof, that often leaks during rain, with blistering sun above it, physically alone all the time, I never find myself alone actually. This is so because of the upheaval of thoughts in my mind, creative, supportive and those which are always difficult to share, you want to set them free but at the same time, you find yourself handcuffed and let them remain inside you.
During this period of my holidays here, today it is the first time that I pushed myself out of my blistering hot room, in search of medications for my sores, that weren’t able to heal, because of their captivity.

Its 6:30 pm, sun is still four fingers above the horizon, and I am strolling down the lanes, learning my familiarity with them, that I gained two years back. I used to come here, same streets, two years back too. But then everything was different. Today, I feel an essence of relieve all around. The feel of cool wind, surpass the somatic senses from my sores.

Breeze, without any lease,
giving me ease,
pains to cease,
modifying my crease.
My mind in muse,
body gone loose,
telling me to stop,
but with a comma, and not a full stop.
I move on, on the pavement drawn,
at the time of dusk, I am seeing my dawn,
picking up the husk, smelling of musk,
I make out, how sturdy the time was,
From Dusk, Till Dawn...

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