Confluence of Creative Content

“A little more love….” Painting by Anuradha Chandrasekaran

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Letter from the Editor

Readers, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate” Wrote the Bard William Shakespeare. Elizabeth Barret Browning asked “How do I love thee?” and an-swered “I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears of all my life! And, if God chose, I shall love thee better after death” Albus Dumbldore: After all these years Severus? Snape: Always! The very lines that made your heart go out for Snape in Harry Potter. Yes, you have guessed it right. Welcome to the season of love! In celebration of the same, this issue of our magazine has gone fur-ther in exploring the various facets of this wonderful feeling. Of-course we have some fun stuff in store for you too. We are going to take you through a journey of various expressions of Love itself. Come, fall in love! More importantly express yourself :-) Happy reading. Editor

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Musical Medley Short writing by Anuradha Chandrasekaran A Little more Love Poetry by Kala Pillai A Love Note Poetry by Sophia Carmalin Unspoken Dreams Short Story by Aditya Rajaraman Dude Where is my Coffee? Column by DreamVendor Draupadi Series by Manasa Scientifically Literate Column by Dr.Afshan Ali Happy Slam Column by Saurabh Ganeriwal Photography By Vasanth Arunachalam With all the love in the world Short Writing by Manasa Say anything, This love affair stays Column by Adithya Srikrishna

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http://www.flickr.com/photos/qthomasbower/3657889982

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Rehna tu hai jaisa tu

Thoda sa dard tu, thoda sukoon Rehna Tu hai jaisa tu Dheema Dheema jhonka ya phir junoon

A.R.Rahman’s composition was playing on the iPod as Sid was walking across the street to catch a Bus. He was thinking; Thinking about the one girl with whom he hadn’t spoken to in nearly 6 years now. Would she remember me at all? Ah! Those college days…. Those blissful days of the yore. Canteen, classroom, coffee and conversations, can he ever stop thinking? He wished he could. He wished there was a pause button on his brain just like his iPod. Solah Baras Ki Bali umar ko salaam

Eh pyaar teri Pehli nazar ko salaam

Sunita was putting away all the utensils that she had just cleaned. Anil would be coming home for lunch any time minute now. The song was wafting through her neighbor’s television set. She was wishing she had one too. Marrying the man she loved, going against the wishes of her family, not hav-ing enough money to even lead a comfortable life, nothing seemed easy. She often wondered whether she had made a mistake. “Ek duje ke liye” was the first movie they had seen together as a couple. “Ah those young imma-ture days!” , she thought to her-self.

Nnilavum malarum paaduthu

Een ninaivil thendral veesuthu

Nnilai mayanggi mayanggi kaathali-naal jaadai paesuthu

A.M.Raja’s voice was streaming in through a small transistor. An old man was rocking back and forth in his chair listening to it, spending his late-afternoon listlessly sitting on the patio. It had been more than a decade since his wife had passed away. Somehow he still couldn’t come to terms with it. As he closed his eyes and enjoyed the song, her face be-came more and more clear. There she was, yes, he could see her face. A con-tent smile erupted on his wrinkled countenance Look into my eyes you will see, what you mean to me

Search a heart, search a soul, when you find me there you will search no more

A seventeen year old girl wearing faded jeans and a tank top was listen-ing to one her favorite yesteryears Rock idols, Bryan Adams. “Wish Mike would ask me to go to the prom with him!” , she thought to herself. She had been following him all around campus the past week hoping he would notice. Never having got any a cheerleader’s looks, though she knew she did not have a chance at being asked to go to the prom by the most popular guy of the senior year. Yet she couldn’t stop dreaming. “I wish, I wish and I wish….…… If only they came true.”

Tum ho to gaata hai dil Tum nahi to geet kahan

Tum ho to hai sapnon ke jaisa haseen ek samaa

Neha was thinking, “May be I should call him! But what if he doesn’t remember me? What if, even worse, he is angry at me? If only he called me once, that idiot Sid.”

Songs vary, music varies, singers vary, why even language var-ies…. But somehow the emo-tions buried deep underneath each song does not. Some songs make us cry, some inspire, very few simply elevate you to the feeling of absolute bliss, and even fewer make you fall in love Rehna tu – Delhi 6 (2009), A.R. Rahman

nilavum malarum – Then nilavu (1961), A. M. Raja

Solah baras ki - Ek Duje Ke Liye (1981), Laxmikant Pyarelal Look into my eyes – “Everything I do” – Bryan Adams (1991) Tum ho to - Rock On!! (2008), Shankar Ehsaan Loy

A MUSICAL MEDLEY —ANURADHA CHANDRASEKARAN

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A Love Note

- Sophia Carmalin

Open your heart and get the feel of it

blossomed through the time,

the radiance, the content, the peace

What else can I ask for…?

A lil more…

Hugs and kisses flowing all through…

Laughter, fun, joy streaming all through

Roses, teddy, chocolates pouring all through

What else can I ask for…?

A lil more…

Tears rolling down, a shoulder to cry on,

A stranger to depend on, any moment, any second…

The feeling is so strong, not forgetting any rhythm…

For a second I was carried away

For a minute I lost it

For a lifetime I learnt it

You are

the answer to my prayers

the reply to my questions

the smile on my face

the sparkle in my eyes

the happiness in my heart

the peace in my spirit

the fizz in my actions

the sweetness in my words

the cheer in my ways

the love the dwells inside me!

A Little more Love… - Kala pillai

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sis/99952731/

Pic Credit :href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sis/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/qthomasbower/

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Unspoken Dreams - Adithya Rajaraman

I have always been told that there is nothing more

confining and boring than traveling by bus. To most

people, the easiest way is to travel is by plane.

However, they fail to reconcile realize the time that

they spend getting to the airport early to ensure

that they check in on time, the wait between the

time of check in and that when the airplane actually

takes off and finally the time after landing is almost

equal to that of a bus travel ride for shorter dis-

tances. Given that most of the airports that I fly to

are far away from the actual place that I need to go

to, invariably I end up taking more time getting to

and from the airport, compared to the actual flight.

In addition, I really love the time that a bus journey

gives you. For just a moment, you are taken away

from the crowded cities, where everything is in fast

forward, where everything has to happen a moment

before this one. You are taken away to a world,

where time seems to stop, where everything can

take place at its own pace. Even though I do not live

that life, even looking at it from thought the glass

doors windows of the bus brings great peace to my

troubled mind.

These bus journeys are the best when you have

someone to travel with:, a companion, any compan-

ion. It is even better when that someone is so close

that there is nothing that you have to say;, every

word is meaningless and more is said by just the

slightest actions, rather than the most garrulous

speeches.

The ride from Pittsburgh to Newark by the Grey-

hound is not a journey to talk about. Other than the

fact that one has to stop in Philadelphia, the journey

is nothing special. However, given that I was on the

trip with that one girl, made the journey all the

more special. The reason that I said that the presence of a com-

panion, even if she is mute during the entire trip,

makes its more interesting in the sense that there is

so much that you can sense from her actions, from

her behavior, from her pattern of breathing, that

you do not notice the time passing.

The girl I am talking about is the one woman who

makes my life go around. She is not beautiful in the

conventional meaning of the word. However, there

is something about her that makes her attractive in

a way that I cannot even come close to describing

how beautiful that I think she is. I guess that given the fact that the bus departs

pretty early in the morning, I was not surprised

when she fell asleep the moment that the bus pulled

out of the Downtown bus stop in Pittsburgh. I am

not the person who can fall asleep during any ride;,

while she can catch forty winks even in the nosiest of

bedlams, I am always afraid that the moment that I

close my eyes, the bus driver will do the same and

we all will end up crashing while she can catch forty

winks even in the nosiest of bedlams. As I was saying, she fell asleep within a few mo-

ments of the bus leaving the terminus and did not

speak a word. Well, given that she was asleep, I do

not think that I can hold her not talking against her

and neither did I mind her dozing off for I had a mil-

lion things that I wanted to think about. I had to

think about the future, how we were going to get

married in a few months. I could even see the cere-

mony.

I am sure that we are going to have a small cere-

mony. There is going to be no one other than the

close friends of mine. She will want to invite her fam-

ily, her parents, her brother and his wife along with

their two kids. I can see the fight that we are going

to have. She will ask why my friends are more impor-

tant than my parents; I will not have an answer. I

will talk about how demanding they are and how in-

ept I am in handling them, her brother, or even her

sister in law. For some reason I am sure that her sis-

ter in law will want to do things her way, for she has

had a wedding and is a self-proclaimed wedding plan-

ner and that will make my girl cry. I cannot have

that, and since I cannot not invite her sister in law, I

do not want her entire family there.

I smile thinking of the argument, for this is the way

that we argue. I think of far too many things while

talking to her, taking into consideration far too many

things, while she is content looking at the smaller

things in life. She would be more worried about what

we are going to eat for dinner, while I would be more

worried about where we are going to live after the

marriage. I look at her; her head has tilted in the roll of the bus

and now is resting against my shoulders. There is

nothing that she finds more comforting than her head

on my shoulders. I guess that it gives her a sense of

being protected, a sense of being wanted and a

sense of being with someone that promises to keep

her safe and takes all efforts to make her happy.

There is nothing that I find more peaceful, she has

given me someone to take care of, someone whose

happiness shall be my responsibility and that makes

me fill up inside. Just as I think of this, I look down at her and her

eyelids are fluttering. She is not awake, but then her

eyelids are fluttering. I guess this is what they call

REM sleep. I do not remember the details clearly, but

then I remember having read that this is the time

that a person has the most vivid dreams. I think that

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given the way that her eyelids are fluttering, she is

dreaming about me, about us. Looking ahead, there is so much for us to do. I can

see the day that we will get our own car. We do

not have the money to get a car now. We use the

bus; however, we have plans for the car after we

come back from the honeymoon. I want to get a

Japanese car, she wants a Mustang. I cannot

blame her, I love the Mustang. We have put off the

decision on the brand of the car for the moment,

but given that I want to start a family as soon as

possible, I still think that a Mustang is poor choice.

The kids are going to be so beautiful, I say kids for

we are going to have two of them. The first one is

going to be a boy and the second will be a girl. If

we are lucky, then both the kids will take after her

both in looks and in brains. It is not that I am not

smart, it is just that she is brilliant. I always joke

with her, asking her how she is with me, if is she

actually is so smart. She says that I am her one

drunken one night stand, that is going to last her a

lifetime. I guess what she is not able to put to

words is the fact that we fit, together, with each

other.

I can see it now, getting up late on weekends as

the kids come up to our room and jump onto the

beds, waking us up. The dog follows at their heels

and we all cuddle up under the blanket. She wants

to get a few more moments of sleep; neither of us

has slept all night for our daughter was up too,

afraid of the gob-monster under the bed. It was

late by the time that we managed to put her back

to bed and we had barely slept a few winks, when

both the kids ran up into the bed. Well, I guess

that nothing be done; both get up, make breakfast

and sit down with the family and Pugsy, our dog.

We had to move out of the city, for we did not

want the kids to grow up where they cannot run

and play.

I did not have a childhood where I could do that

and I do not want my kids to miss out on that ex-

perience. We have a small house in the suburbs,

not so far that I have to commute most of the day

to work and back, but not so close that we are

hard pressed for space. The perfect balance, her

and me, and the kids. Even though I am thinking of events that have

not occurred yet, for some weird reason, it is not

as if I am looking ahead in time. I feel like I am

looking back in time, reminiscing of these events

after they are done. I feel like I am almost ninety

years old and am thinking of the times gone by.

Strange, that I think of the future as the past;

however, it all makes sense for these are certain-

ties, are they not?

Harrisburg has come and past and we ride on.

The bus conductor says that we are pretty close

to Philadelphia and that the ones that ride on to

Newark should get off the bus at Philadelphia and

get onto another bus to Newark. I do not move

even though i am going to Newark. I do not want

to disturb her sleep, I do not want to ruin this

moment. At this very moment, we are perfect, we

are not saying a thing, heck she is not even

awake and yet we are perfect. Soon she will get

up and things will go back to what they were be-

fore we got onto the bus.

I always maintain that a companion while travel-

ing, especially if it is by bus makes a world of dif-

ference, even if she is mute to you. I never saw

that girl before and I never have seen her since. I

left the bus to catch my connecting bus to New-

ark. She just shifted in her seat as she let me

pass and then curled up against the empty seat

next to her. I am not even sure if she realized

that I was gone. I sure did realize that I was

gone.

“However, given that I was on the trip with that one girl, made the journey all the more special. The girl I am talking about is the one woman who makes my life go around.”

Pic Credit:http://www.flickr.com/photos/

izzie_whizzie/

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Dress: So I’m sure you are smart enough to realize that this is a date and not a costume party or a fancy dress event. “Looks aren’t important. My date should like me for what I am and how I look.” Ok. Agreed. When was the last you looked at yourself fully in the mirror? When you were 5? It doesn’t hurt to dress well, most importantly, appropriate. Would you want to wear a sweatshirt to the symphony? Or go generous with the jewels for a movie? Being simple and natural can help. Let it be your charm that your date swoons for, not your perfume/cologne. Smell good but not too good to handle. Wear appropriate and clean foot-wear. Both of you could be sporty types, but you don’t want to be dressed well and wearing dirty sneakers (Oh yea, please wear socks. Clean and stench-free). Floss! You might not have flossed all your life, but hey it helps before a date. You never now what it leads to, right? And check those nails, you don’t want to be hurting the other! After all, first impression will always make the best or worst impres-sion.

Dude, Where is my Coffee? - V Day F Month

DreamVendor

So it is that time of the year again when the city is all red, hearts-y, and nauseated. V day in F month. Every-where you turn, anything you read, anywhere you go, wherever you are, it is all going to be around you – Love and faux-love (like other months are supposedly full of love-deprivation days). So here goes another column of mine for that special day. I’m going to write a few points on what to do and what not to do on a first date. I meant first-date-with-someone and not first-time-date. If you are going on a date for the first time in your life, I would suggest you stop reading here, and call Susan Boyle.Before I even begin, here is a summary of what is coming. If you are the speed date type, skip the words that don’t interest you. If you are old school type, ask google for help. If you are just in a mood for some coffee and some short reading, go ahead! So here are the key words - Dress. Place. Time. Composure. Pay. Talk. Kiss. Sex. Seems like words related to an official meeting, right? Well, except for the last two, of course.

Place. Where would you want to go? Be it dinner, movies, bungee jumping, kayaking, temple (really?), park, wherever, just make sure the place is not over-crowded. A date is to get to know each other and not other people in the crowd. How would you like your date to be lost in the fair? Or how about your date looks at someone else and loses interest in you? Choose a place where you both have enough space for yourself and each other. This helps you to get to know the person a bit with the limited time sans distractions. Even sitting on/under a bridge, eating onion-free food, and chatting up could be a pretty evening.

Time. Always be on time. “Oh! My dog had to poop”, “Damn the elevator, it was stuck for an hour, and I had to break open the door”, “I was lost”. Lame excuses on late arrival doesn’t help the situation. Even if you had a genuine reason to be late, be creative with your rea-sons. Is it ok for a girl to come late? Why would she have special privilege on that? Isn’t it easy for both of them to arrive on time? Fair and less chaotic. If you anticipate a delay, let your date know in advance. It is not that you are taking a flight for a date. Or are you?

Composure. Sweaty hands? Sweaty forehead? Palpitation hit the roof? Grinning like a Cheshire cat? You have reasons to be so. But you wouldn’t start crying, would you? Never show your anxiety or excitement on your first date at least. You could be a dating guru, but every first date is either bound to have its own anxious or excited moments. Disappointments could be inevita-ble in blind dates, but it is not the end of this world! Show your confident self to your date. This will loosen up your date and you both will feel at ease. But don’t seem overconfident. It is sheer arrogance!

“Looks aren’t important. My date should like me for what I am and how I look.” Ok. Agreed. When was the last you looked at yourself fully in the mirror? When you were 5? It doesn’t hurt to dress well, most impor-tantly, appropriate.

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Pay. Scrumptious dinner? Lobsters and oysters? Wine

and what not? So who foots the bill? I might be old school here. The guy does foot the bill on the first date. It is only fair for a girl to offer to pay, but the guy should pay on the first date. If you disagree, no worries, just make sure you don’t seem so obviously shameless. Let she figure it out gradually. Ideally, the inviter of the date should pay the bill, but for now I’m just sticking to my old school idea. Another tip is, always carry some cash. What if your card was declined for some reason. You don’t want to be embarrassed before your date who finally ends up paying.

Sex. Old school – NO. New school – NO. It

is a date, for Madonna’s sake! It is not a hookup. So give it time. If it happens, jack-pot! Else, there are plenty of fishes. Just ensure you know to swim.

Talk. It is only civil to be more a listener than a

talker. But if both are going to be listening, who is going to talk? That is exactly when silence steps in and fills up awkwardness all over. Also, you need to know what would make a good conversation and what wouldn’t. “Babe, are we having sex tonight?”, “Dude, is your brother hot looking?”, “My ex died when we were having dinner. She choked on shrimps while I was in the bathroom”, “You are hot-ter than what I thought”. Do not be a talk-all-I-know. You might know that Antarctica is the only continent where there are no owls, but your date could proba-bly be least interested in Antarctica, owls, or eventu-ally even you.

Kiss. Tricky. Very. There are different versions. Old

school – a goodnight peck on the cheek and a hug would be it. If the date went on well and for a long time, a tight hug and a quick peck on the lips (no tongue!) would be a good idea. Instead of leaning for-ward to kiss and be surprised when your date moves away, it helps to be flirtatious and ask if it is ok to kiss before indulging! If both of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, well, it was just a hook up and not a date. So you wasted time reading this column. One tight slap.

Good luck then! If something worked out, drop me an email. Even if it didn’t work, drop me a email. It has been a while since I burst out laughing. You might help. Happy Valentine’s day read-ers! Much love DreamVendor

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Draupadi

I spent hours before the mirror, watching

Shakti-ma do my hair, making her undo it, and redo it, coiling its lengths about my body

and watching it fall back like a sheer water-fall. My burnished skin glowed, my eyes sparkled. My eyebrows, thick and arched,

were like battle-flags. I could feel the thin, short hair on my arms and the nape of my neck rise with the chilly north-easterly winds

blowing through the windows early that morning. I lifted my skirts to admire my legs,

and my eyes followed the curves of my body in the mirror. The dangling bits of metal in my ears clinked, my anklets jangled like

conches. I walked out to my father‟s quarters like a woman going out to battle, like a ship

in full sail, like the rising full moon. I was sixteen.

Shakti-ma, I remember, bade me to fall at my

father‟s feet and seek his blessings. I eagerly walked up to him, and stood before him, in

all my bridal finery, looking, I knew, more beautiful than I had ever looked before. More radiant. More womanly. More alive.

He, of course, saw none of those things. He merely asked me if I was ready and when I

nodded, asked Shakti-ma to escort me to the pavilion.It was a flat stretch of bare land,

with chairs and seats arranged circularly around it for all the gathered kings and princes and their attendants.At the centre of

the circle, which was open to the bright blue sky and the struggling sunlight, there was a

vat of oil.Directly over that, there was a re-volving disc, with a huge dead fish on its

By Manasa

The Driver’s Son

Episode –3

Kanha was not pre-

sent on the day I got mar-ried. I am not sure what

kept him away, but he was not there. That’s the thing with

Kanha – he is there on the

days it really matters, but never all the time. It may seem surprising to you that

the day I got married did not matter much to me, but

to tell you the truth, it was only a relief to me. I was getting away from my fa-

ther, after all this time. I knew that only one man on

the planet could win the kind of test my father had set- and that was Arjun. To

be won this way, as the greatest feather in a cap for his ability – he should feel

lucky to have a woman such as me for his wife!

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circumference. A gigantic bow sat a few

yard away. I wondered how they had brought it there.

I was not veiled. I was clothed in yellow and green, and my hair hair hung braided be-

hind me. My eyes were kohled, but my hands were white. Directly opposite the bow, there was a raised platform shaded

with thick cloth. We sat by ourselves, wait-ing for the proceedings to begin. My brother

stood guard at the base of the platform, but he looked so funny standing there that I al-most laughed. I hated my brother, almost

as much as I hated my father.

I was busy scanning the crowd. I had seen likenesses of Arjun, but he was nowhere to

be seen. „Arjun isn‟t here,” I muttered to

Shakti-ma.

“Haven‟t you heard? The Pandavas are in

hiding.”

“Why?”

“Their cousins tried to kill them.”

“Who?”

“Their cousins. Duryodhana and his broth-

ers. You see that man over there?”

I saw where she pointed. Duryodhana was a bespectacled pimply person, taller than av-

erage, but thin as a reed. He wore an ex-pression of boredom, but he had bright,

keen, intelligent eyes that roved around.He was the kind of man you would underesti-mate, and then grow to respect, and then

realize he was too dangerous to be re-spected. This was something I realized later – that he had a charm about him. He could

make people play into his hands. His par-ents believed he was capable of no

wrong.His brothers believed that his cause was just. Even the Pandavas taught him a misguided youth – Yudhistra always fought

for his conversion. But Yudhistra believed that everyone was innately good. In fact, ex-

cept Bheem and Kanha, everybody fell un-

der Duryodhana‟s spell at some level.

I realized that I had been staring too long at

Duryodhana when he stared at me and smiled. It was not contemptuous or leering,

as one of expect of the notorious Duryod-hana. It was almost respectful, a smile of recognition, nothing more. He nudged the

man sitting next to him, who turned to look

at me as well.

I stared back, not smiling. I did not care about Duryodhana, but who was this man

who next to him? He was a stranger as far as I was concerned. He looked, not like a

king, but like a God of some kind. The man was dark, darker than any man I had seen in these parts, with a sharp nose, fleshy lips

and a stubble on his cheeks. His eyes, but-those were the most beautiful eyes I had

ever seen. As he kept looking at me, a look both arrogant and compassionate, in equal parts giving and receiving, as the half strug-

gling sun burst out into full flame and lit up his eyes even more, if that was even possi-ble, I knew with all the surety of a girl who

was an almost-woman, a girl sure of her own beauty and the effect that it had on a

man such as this one, that this man

wanted me.

The moment this realization hit me, I

turned away from him.

“Shakti-ma, who is that?”

“Who?”

“That man, next to Duryodhana, the one

who is still looking at me.”

“Oh, that‟s the Driver‟s Son.”

“Who?”

“Don‟t you know? This Duryodhan, he made his driver‟s son a king. Apparently they are

bosom friends. If you ask me it is all hog-wash – friendship and such like.All Duryod-

han wants are his skills. Haven‟t you heard? If there is one man on earth who can wield an arrow and kill Arjun, it is this

man. His name is Karnan.”

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“Duryodhan wants to kill Arjun?”

I was a very unworldly girl then. I had

heard of Arjun, only because Kanha talked about his favourite cousin all the time. They

were like blood brothers, Kanha and Arjun. I did not care about politics or the fueds be-tween the men. The men were all like my

father, always plotting, always out for some-body‟s throat. Though I spoke to Kanha as if I enjoyed duels and fights and men pulp-

ing one another, it was only to tease him.

it was only to tease him. I liked bravery and courage in men, but for the life of me, I could not stand the sight of blood. I could

not watch something suffer, even if it was a rabbit hit by an arrow. I had, and have suf-

fered too much to know that I‟m right. It is sort of ironic that my hand was won by a man because he could shoot straighter and

fancier than all the other men gathered there. The same kind of shots that killed uncles and teachers and men they had

loved and respected all their lives. The bloody war they were obligated to fight for

my obstinacy, my honour, their honour.

It now seems to me that everything is, at some level, a farce. What was the meaning of the war they fought? They sure as hell did not fight it for me. I was but an excuse for the flare-up.Like a fool, I fanned their pas-sions. Bheem’s devotion to me that made him swear that he would rip Duryodhana’s thigh, Kanha’s monologue that Arjun heard, Duryodhana’s promise of eternal friendship, each one was a farce, a farce with some-one’s ego at the end of it.Lying here in the sun, waiting for the boy to come, I remember

what Karnan told me at one point.

“You and I, Draupadi, you and I, if there are two people that this war is being fought for, it is you and I. It is the sins against us which are being avenged. This war is not a duty, Draupadi, like Krishna preaches and Yudhistra believes. It is not a necessary evil. It is a purge. We were exploited, and we shall be redeemed.” Karnan always spoke that way, with bitterness and passion and detachment and a sardonic, ironic twist of a

smile. Every word he spoke was a tussle with fate, for he was right. He had been wronged against, and I had been wronged against. That day, the day I got married, the day I saw Karnan for the first time and loathed him at first sight, I did not know

what was in store for either me or him.

My attentions were soon fixated on each of the princes who came forth to try to win my hand, and I watched in amusement, as they

tried to lift the heavy bow and flopped back to the ground. Duryodhana tried perfuncto-

rily, but failed. Then, he motioned Karnan

to try.

I watched as he walked confidently towards the bow, looked at me in the eye and lifted

the bow easily and strung it with a resonat-ing twang. There was a half-smile on his

face. I did not want him to win, because he wanted to win me so badly. I turned my face away, but could not help watching from the

corner of my eye, lest he should win.

A voice rang across the field. “Stop him.”

(To be Continued…)

Being a biological scientist, I use rats and

mice in al l my studies. Last week, while

sacrificing the innocent animals for one of

my projects, I began to wonder about how

much humanity owes to these creatures.

Rodents have made a significant

contribution to our wel lbeing. In the wild,

these animals run about, without knowing

where they are headed or for what

purpose. In the laboratory, they have apurpose.

For example, in an experiment designed

to study peptic ulcers, the animal’s legs

were tied together and it was left in the

dark. In the next 24 hours, the rat

developed stress peptic ulcers. Drugs

were then administered to study their

effects on the ulcers. From this

experiment, I learnt that an important

cause of stress is not being al lowed to do

what one loves to do. Hence to avoid

stress, think of what you enjoy most and

find time for it.

In another experiment, a strain of mice

that lacks al l motivation to eat was used.

The mice though capable of eating and

capable of enjoying food, if left on their

own, would not rouse themselves to feed.

The mere thought of walking across the

cage and l ifting food pel lets from the

bowl, fi l led the animals with

overwhelming apathy. Real ly, what is the

point of ingesting and excreting?” Days

passed. The mice did not eat and they

starved to death. Behind this fatal case of

ennui was discovered a severe deficit of

DOPAMINE. Dopamine is the transmitter

for motivation—It stimulates us to act.

Dopamine is less about pleasure and

reward than about drive and motivation. It

provides the motivation required for acts

that may be unpleasant but are needed

for survival . Lack of dopamine, as in the

case of these mice, means the lack of

motivation but too much of it can lead to

impulsive and risky behavior. Perhaps,

bankers should be tested in the future for

their dopamine matrix before being given

large responsibil ities.

Another interesting study using caloric

restriction in mice showed relationship

between tumors and diet. Mice fed on a

calorie-restricted diet were compared to

mice fed a regular diet. Scientists found

that caloric restriction delays or inhibits

the development of al l types of tumor in

mice. This fal ls in l ine with research that

has shown that regardless of the source

and nature of DNA damage, DNA repair is

better preserved and/or enhanced when

caloric consumption decreases. This

conclusion reminded me of the mole rats.

These creatures l ive in deep tunnels

underground, organized in colonies. They

can l ive for up to 28 years while an

ordinary mouse l ives only 2 to 3 years.

Also incidents of cancer have not been

found in mole rats. The reason for their

longevity is supposed to be their highly

protected environment and the l imited

food they consume. In this age of over

consumption and obesity, this simple

creature may hold the secret to longevity

and the prevention of cancer.

When we think of mice and rats, we typical ly think of

disgusting disease-carrying creatures that can make even the bravest

among us squeal and jump on top of the nearest chair. But, Dr. Afshan Ali, aFood and Drug Administration scientist and our guest columnist for this

month, tel ls us why we should be thankful to these creatures.

SCIENTIFICALLYLITERATE

14

I am not even done making and breaking al l my

new year resolutions and the austral ian open is

almost half done. That's how fast the new tennis

season starts off. The memory of the US open has

sti l l not faded from my mind, and there have been

almost two months of tennis fol lowing that! Yes,

the tennis season is long and gruel ing. Lots of

players complain that they have just a 4 week

break and then the same bunch go and play

lucrative exhibition matches in the middle east

during this break. I never get that. I real ly doubt

that it even makes sense financial ly, but that's

perhaps another article for some other time.

This article is about Austral ian open, which is fast

becoming my favorite Grand Slam. There are a

number of reasons for that. First, it enjoys the

luxury of being the first major event of a new

tennis calendar. It comes as a breath of fresh air for

both the players and the fans. There are typical ly

no major injuries to players, and most of them are

super-fit. They have very l ittle emotional baggage;

its easy for them to put behind their

disappointments of the last season, and look for a

fresh start to the new season. It is the first major

event in the new year for players to make a

statement, and so the competitive juices are

flowing strong.

From the fans perspective, the itch for rooting

players on and watching some tennis is at an al l

time high. Similar to players, fans are also looking

forward to earn boasting rights among their peers

- suicide pools, workplace wagers, fantasy leagues

and so many other fancy gadgets. Al l of this makes

for a perfect harmony and sets up the Austral ian

open as an event that everyone looks forward to.

Roger Federer (btw, I am one of those rare non-

-spanish die heard Nadal fan) cal ls this "The Happy

Slam". Everybody seems to be genuinely having

fun in this one.

I also bel ieve the Austral ian open offers the most

fair surface among al l the slams. Its a hard court,

but is much slower than any typical hard court. The

bal l stops a l ittle after bouncing, but not as much

as on the clay courts. It also does not zip through

l ike in Wimbledon or in the US open. There are no

awkward bounces and no major movement issues

l ike with clay or grass. The player has plenty of time

to make a shot, and simultaneously, he can

practical ly run down any bal l and make a defensive

play. In fact, the underrated sl ice works as a

weapon, which is almost unheard of for a hard

court.

The bal l stops a l ittle after bouncing, but not as

much as on the clay courts. It also does not zip

through l ike in Wimbledon or in the US open.

There are no awkward bounces and no major

movement issues l ike with clay or grass. The player

has plenty of time to make a shot, and

- SAURABH GANERIWAL

15

simultaneously, he can practical ly run down any

bal l and make a defensive play. In fact, the

underrated sl ice works as a weapon, which is

almost unheard of for a hard court. As a result,

every player - a slugger l ike Del Potro, a 1 -2 boom

bang l ike Federer, a counter puncher l ike Murray, a

control freak l ike Djokovic, or a topsin mogul l ike

Nadal , bel ieves that he can win this. This makes for

some intriguing action. There are several

momentum shifts and a very high qual ity of play.

The number of five setters for men and three

setters for women are far more than in any other

grand slam. Furthermore, just l ike Wimbledon, this

is the only slam which does not have a tie break in

the last set, which makes the way for some nerve

racking drama and tense moments. Just look at the

l ist of previous champions and you wil l real ize the

diversity I am talking about - Wilander, Connors,

Lendl , Edberg, Becker, Samprass, Courier, Agassi,

Federer, Djokovic, Nadal .

I am writing this article on the eve of the men's

quarterfinals. Last three years have seen three

different champions and I am picking a new one

his time too - Cil ic. Although not a very famous

name, it should not come as a surprise to an avid

tennis fan. He is not new to the tennis fraternity.

He always had the talent but absolutely zero

confidence and the tendency to choke at big

ocassions. Like his usual self, he almost managed

to snatch a defeat from the jaws of victory against

del potro, but I bel ieve that wil l give him the boost

or the breakthrough that is needed for any super

star's career.

Quaterfinals:Fed def Davy

Djoko def tsonga

Cil ic def Roddick

Nadal def Murray

Semifinals:

Djoko def Fed

Cil ic def Nadal

Championship:

Cil ic def Djoko

By the time you read this article, the Austral ian

open would have finished. You wil l know if my

predictions fal l on their face and wil l wonder, why

the hel l are we listening to anything that this

person has to say. Unfortunately, it wil l be too late

by then!

PHOTOGRAPHY

16Lead me to her... and in her, I shall lose myself eternally.

BYVASANTHARUNACHALAM

1717I am an expression of your love... my life will be a reflection of yours.

Vedha and Rishi

Vedha met Rishi in 2002. Both of them were in the

9th standard, same class, same bench, adjacent

houses. It was inevitable that they would grow

close. They were best of friends until the

unthinkable happened on the last day of class of

1 2th standard. Rishi proposed love.

Vedha, more clear-headed than other girls of her

age, knew she loved Rishi too, but not the way

Rishi loved her. She told him as much, and was

kind enough to explain why building futures on

love is not the best thing for al l people at al l times.

I was impressed when Vedha told me this story,

because I have known her for nine years now. I

have known Rishi for an equal amount of time.

There was a lot of pathos in this l ittle story, and I

gave Vedha a virtual hug over the phone l ine as we

talked. There’s a lot of love in the world, I said.

That was when she said, “Wait, the story’s not over

yet.” The next few details turned me back into my

old, cynical self. She told me about two years of

stalking, threats over the phone that unless she

said ‘Yes’ he would jag his veins or jump off a

building. She told me how she had to tel l her

parents and change her address, and how he

tracked her down. Was it real ly Rishi? I could see

her shrug. Maybe it was, maybe it was not. My

next question hung unspoken. Was it real ly love?

Neha

That was the same question Neha asked me.

me.me.Again our roots go long back—back to

when we were in diapers in fact. We are first

cousins, almost sisters. It is an inexpl icable bond.

There was a pact we made at one point—to tel l

each other everything, always, to hold nothing

back. It is strange that we continue to honor it sti l l .

Neha’s very different from me, and some of her

viewpoints and choices sti l l startle me. When she

spl it from the first boyfriend and dumped the

second one, she told me each time. I was appal led.

“First one was trying to two-time me. I found out

and confronted him. Second one… he was getting

too pesky"

“No love? No hurt feel ings?”

“Manu, you are too emotional . If it does not fit, you

don’t wear it.”

There was also a third one then. One that she did

love and trust in. They did seem to have good

times, and she even introduced the guy to me.

Seemed nice and well mannered. Ah, but he was

the suspicious one. He broke her heart, accused

her of infidel ity, sulked, fought, turned passive-

aggressive, and final ly, simply left. Neha’s never

been the same since. There’s this hard shel l over

her, one that you cannot penetrate through, for

she is now closed to the world.

Sandya and Sajan

Sujan does not even talk to me anymore. I guess

that’s what happens if your friend is your best

friend’s ex. You, the friend, end up losing. Sandhya

and I are buddies. Sandhya’s was a long l ist: the

guy she had a crush on in 1 2th standard, the guy in

col lege, the other guy in col lege…. And she

needed an ear to l isten to her woes. It was nice

when Sujan and she met up, because Sujan and I

WITHALL THELOVEIN THE WORLD

IN THIS MONTH OF

CHOCOLATES,

ROMANTIC DINNERS

AND VALENTINES,

MANASA PAINTS A

MORE REALISTIC

PICTURE OF

YOUNG LOVE...

18

were col leagues. And I have never known a nicer

person than Sujan. And then Sujan had to move.

On-site assignment. Long distance happened for a

while, but Sandhya cheated. The other guy did not

know that there was someone else involved and

trusted her quite seriously. She thought it was over

with Sujan.

But Sujan came back.

She switched to Sujan again. After al l , there was a

reason why he was the first choice.

“Do you even know what you are doing?” I asked.

“I don’t know…” she said. “But it is Sujan. I was

wrong with starting it up with Madhan.”

And Sujan found out.

After a lot of tears, arguments, and sleepless nights

(for me as wel l ) , Sujan went away again. This time,

for good.

Sandhya’s back with Madhan. Off and on.

Three stories, that happened to three people I

know and love. It is happening al l around you and

me. A lot of love shared, but seems to me like there

is more misery involved. I don’t mean the

bittersweet misery of being in love. What I am

talking about is far more serious. Between Neha,

Vedha, and Sandhya’s cases, you see everything

that’s wrong in an intimate relationship

happening. If betrayal of faith is adultery, what

does switching partners mean? Twenty-year-olds

grow up facing, or perpetrating emotional abuse,

stalking, cheating, suspicion, jealousy, breaking

up—what amounts to divorce happening multiple

times. If this was in a marriage, it would be

disastrous! Such is the nature of modern-day

relationships.

What bothers me is the short-term-gain attitude

shown. So long as something ‘works,’ it’s alright.

The moment I smel l something wrong, I run away.

It takes a tremendous deal of courage to face

oneself; people in their early twenties in my

generation don’t seem to have the courage for

that. When one lacks faith in oneself, when people

are so riddled with insecurities that they cannot

openly give and receive love without feel ing

insecure, how can there be intimacy of any sort? Is

this even remotely close to ‘love,’ which, as I see it,

is a state where your ego becomes large enough to

accommodate another person’s?

The problem with the whole dating-and-

relationship model is how it looks at a long-term

commitment. Ideal ly, a relationship should be a

state where two people decide they don’t need

anything but the commitment they have towards

each other and their own trust that they can see it

through to be together. Marriage is only a

formal ization of this state. But in real ity,

relationships are mostly short-term affairs where

people come together to enjoy the benefits of

marriage, but don’t want to pul l their weight to

make it last.

I may be ideal istic to want a world, even if not built

on love, at least not built on the foundations of

things worse than hate. But the journey, l ike

always, starts from within.

Aa chalk e tujhe, mein leke chaloon,

Ek eise gagan ke taley,

Jahan gham bhi na ho, aasoon bhi na ho,

Bas pyaar hi pyaar paley….

With al l the love in the world,

Manasa.

19

Say Anything, This Love

Affair Stays

Aditya Srikrishna

Somewhere deep underground, there exists a secret brotherhood. It's known by many different names, but so far no name has stuck. But what's in a name? These are strong men, in body and mind, with the ability to main-tain a straight face at the choicest of Yash Chopra and Karan Johar moments. It's an altogether different story when it comes to Hollywood romantic comedies. Here’s to breaking rule #1 of Fight Club. Well not really, but the rule is somewhat the same. I am an unabashed member of this club, but, to sound like a distant observer, I am going to talk in third person. You can send the hate mails

to my ID.

Almost every man on the street is a card-carrying (albeit invisible) member of this fellowship. They talk about summer action blockbusters, science fiction fantasies, Spanish film directors, and the Sundance film festival en-trants. But silently, they are rooting for the romantic comedy superhero who manages to get the girl in the end. They won't agree to go first-day, first-show for this genre, but the Wednesday night 9 pm movie would be re-ligiously watched, and if it's cult, there would be a DVD

lying somewhere safe.

Don't believe him. He felt crushed when Lloyd Dobler cried into the phone in Say Anything, mincing, “I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen.” He completely understood Anna Scott when she gave him the plain "I am just a girl" look in Notting Hill. He knew that the whole idea behind Serendipity was so cheesy that it would work. Moreover, he absolutely adored Kate Beckinsale, even when she played vampires. And long before that, Woody Allen caught every man's imagination when he invented words like “luuurve” and “loave” because Alvy Singer thought love was too weak a word to describe his feelings for the iconic Annie Hall. So don't ever believe him when he tells you he is not for romantic comedies. Or romance.And

this is where it stops sounding like one big disclaimer.

2

Annie Hall set the benchmark for eve-rything that followed. Beginning with Alvy Singer's monologue, it had some of the best lines ever written, perfect chemistry between the lead actors, and a sharp screenplay by Woody Al-len. Over the years, a number of films tried the same recipe for a romantic comedy, some failing and some meet-ing with moderate success but never quite achieving a passionate following like Annie Hall. The genre required a major revitalization and a then un-known director named Cameron Crowe did exactly that in the late 1980s. Selling point? He went back to

high school.

At the time of its release, no one had seen such disarming innocence and charm for a very long time. Say Any-thing, not a comedy by any means, brought young romance back to Holly-wood, and Lloyd Dobler was the man every high school kid wanted to be. The film is replete with lines intended to win over the ladies, and the fresh-ness of the lead pair, played by John Cusack and Ione Skye, made sure that the movie remained a cult classic not only to those who grew up in the 80s, but also to the generations that fol-lowed. 2009 saw the release of the 20th anniversary edition DVD of Say Anything, and 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment's publicity team had its publicists dress as Lloyd Dobler and reenact the boombox scene on the streets of Manhattan. Now if that's not

one for the ages, what is?

In Annie Hall, Diane Keaton exclaims, "No, I can't go into a movie that's al-ready started, because I'm anal,” at

which Woody Allen comments that anal is too polite a word for her. Since then, romantic comedies have come full circle. There was a hint of a pass-ing reference in 2009's (500) Days of Summer when Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel) says, "They used to call me anal girl because I was neat and or-ganized.” It has paved way for the cynicism of this generation to show its ugly face in romcoms, for Summer is a girl who doesn't believe in love while Tom Hansen (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), the hapless romantic, is head-over-

heels in love with her.

And so are these countless men be-longing to the club. Men who have good reasons to hate Sex and the City and Grey’s Anatomy, but are dumb-struck when it comes to typical rom-coms. They can be found at the mov-ies, at restaurants, in the supermar-ket, in the parking lot, in hotel lob-bies, between concourses, at the gym, at the temple or the church, in college and at work. They'll have no creden-tials on them and will be ready to live in complete denial as long as possible. When you spot one, do not point and laugh. Just remind them of this gem

from Lloyd Dobler's love story:

D.C.: Lloyd, why do you have to be

like this?

Lloyd: 'Cause I am a guy. I have pride.

D.C.: You're not a guy.

Lloyd: I am.

Corey Flood: No. The world is full of guys. Be a man. Don't be a guy.

contributors

Short writing: Musical medley - Anuradha Chandrasekaran With all the love in the world – Manasa Unspoken Dreams - Adithya Rajaraman

Art Cover page painting (heart) - Anuradha Chandrasekaran Photography Vasanth Arunachalam

Poetry A little more love – Kala pillai

A love note – Sophia carmalin

Columns Happy slam – Saurabh Ganeriwal Scientifically literate – Dr.Afshan Ali Dude where is my coffe – Dream vendor

Draupadi – Manasa

Say anything, this love affair stays – Aditya SriKrishna

Magazine Design Anuradha Chandrasekaran Dhivya Arasappan Nivethitha Kumar Editorial Team Anuradha Chandrasekaran Dhivya Arasappan Nivethitha Kumar Kanaka Sathasivan (Guest Editor) Webiste design Nivethitha Kimar

Mail us your feedback and contributions to Editor@theBanyantrees.com

Picture Credits

With all the love in the world : http://www.flickr.com/photos/31878512@N06/3839707719/ The happy slam : http://www.gohere2rsvp.com/ A love note : http://www.flickr.com/photos/sis/99952731/in/photostream/ A little more love : http://www.flickr.com/photos/qthomasbower/3657889982/in/photostream/ Draupadi: http://www.flickr.com/photos/xenia_antunes/ Unspoken Dreams: http://www.flickr.com/photos/izzie_whizzie/

Mail us your feedback and contributions to Editor@theBanyantrees.com