Dear Mom,

I really don't know where to begin. It's not Mother's day or your birthday (which conveniently falls within the same week) so why bother writing a whole post on you when I generally talk about science, politics and my philosophies? You're neither a scientist, nor a politician and definitely not one to side with my philosophies. But despite that, you're great.

I may not be a reflection of you, but you are my creator. I may not agree with your arguments, but I have your wisdom. I may not be as elegant as you, but I have your grace. And I may not be as successful as you are, but I have your motivation. Some people may look at you and wonder about the success I am pointing to. However, you are the strongest woman I know. You have noble thoughts. Your writings are eloquent with a focus to uplift society. Your stories inspire me to take on the world! Of course, I have a bias. But you have made a world from nothing, twice. You bore the pain of bringing life into that world, twice. And you made engineers of them, twice. So naturally, your success doubles on all counts.

I won't say that I'm always fond of you. Sometimes, I just want to break something. Sometimes, I just want to storm out of the house. Most of the times, I believe that you don't understand. But you do! You know when I'm upset. You know when I am giddy with joy. And you even know when I don't want to be bothered. For each of these times, you play the mother so well. Whether its with your food, your constant nagging or your sharp stares directed to my outfits, it helps keep me in line with my life. Being the stubborn child that I am, even you can't stop me from making my mistakes, but you sure do try!

I am not trying to promise a change or a transformation via this post. I am merely saying, thank you. Thank you for being my mom. Thank you for teaching me to fight tirelessly. Thank you for imparting a passion for food to me. Thank you for showing me the importance of standing by one's principles. But most of all, Thank you for enduring plenty of sacrifices along the way to pave the road for my success.

Perhaps in the three years that I stayed away, I missed out on some bonding. Or maybe in those days I realized how much I needed you. But with my close friends bringing new lives into this world, I am wondering whether I too can cut this umbilical cord and break free into the real world. Well, I cannot. I don't want to grow up just yet. I need you to be my savior. I need you to be my teacher. I need you to be my mother. Yes, I am still a child at heart. I am still afraid of the dark. I will still cry at failure. And I still need you to oil my hair, gently with your fingers, so that all the love and faith transfers over, rejuvenating me.

Mom, I know it's not your birthday or mother's day! And no I don't need anything(right now). But I still love you! :)


ps: Dad, I love you too! But that's for another day ;)

Schrodinger's Cat

It is no mystery that I like to draw parallels between real life and science. So here we go again with my analysis of the most paradoxical experiment with Chicago politics, my current life and much more.

Last Tuesday, I lay on my couch under my overused fleece battling fever and sore throat. But I wasn't fighting alone. On the other side of the television screen, Richard M. Daley made an announcement that instantly made me feel worse. We weren't going to witness another term of Mayor Daley!

We have experienced the Daley era in Chicago since 1955 when Richard J. Daley, the father of our current mayor took office. Now Chicago is looking at a blank slate. No heirs to take over. No legacies. No endorsements even!

But aside from the question of who to elect next, Chicago locals have other questions. Why is Mayor Daley abandoning us? Why is he retiring? Why is he not even handing over our future to another life-guard while we drown in this economic recession?

My Chicago is Schrodinger's cat. We stand at the threshold of an unknown future. We stand at the finish-line of a scandalous past. And our current state is like the cat: both alive and dead!

"He is arguably the most accomplished mayor in America today...On the presidential level, we’re always looking for a savior, but Daley shows that a prosaic workhorse sometimes turns out just as well or better," reports NY Times.

Let's shine some light on this great figure whom I have personally met several times. Mayor Daley is not the most eloquent of speakers, but he communicates to Chicagoans with spirit and hope. He united this city that was once divided on the basis of racial, economic and religious distinctions. Sure violence and crime persist, yet we attract new residents to this great city every year. We have established a cultural blend here. We have among the most severe weather conditions and yet we don't believe in hiding in our homes. We find thrills in challenges. Most people attribute the development of Chicago to the Mayor's passionate love for this city.

Speculations for his recent decision mention the deteriorating health of his wife who is a bone cancer survivor. But one is compelled to think as to what other reasons may have contributed to this unwelcome announcement. I believe that Mayor Daley loves Chicago, but he loves his esteem more. Why risk an exemplary reputation for a term that is sure to be filled with obstacles? It only makes sense to step out now with dignity. A wise philosopher once said that the key to true happiness is knowing when to stop.

Economic recession. Losing the 2016 Olympic bid. Blagojevich scandal. Budget deficits. Increasing adolescent crime. Denial to include Chicago in the 2018 Soccer Worldcup bid. I think these are reasons enough to quit gracefully. Mayor Daley wants to close the box now.

Perhaps the Rushdie influence has taken its toll on me since Midnight's Children. Much of Chicago's recent development mimics my own. My life is also Schrodinger's cat. Every outcome is possible until the box opens.

Schrodinger wrote about his experiment, "That prevents us from so naively accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself, it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory."
"Most of them simply do not see what sort of risky game they are playing with reality—reality as something independent of what is experimentally established. Their interpretation is, however, refuted most elegantly by your system of radioactive atom + amplifier + charge of gunpowder + cat in a box, in which the psi-function of the system contains both the cat alive and blown to bits. Nobody really doubts that the presence or absence of the cat is something independent of the act of observation," Einstein responded, appreciating the genius of Schrodinger.

Quantum superposition actually applies to the state of an atom in the future. This is prediction. Schrodinger's experiment is questioning the state of an atom in the present. This is reality. Not just mine, but everyone's life happens between these two states. You can either know or hope to know. When what you know is unfavorable, you wish the outcome could be postponed so hope can be kept alive. When the opposite is true, you wish the outcome could be revealed because reality gives you closure.

I am not sure which state I prefer right now. My game with reality is getting intense. Here is the true paradox. The choice between knowing and hoping is mine! Until the box is closed, I can live in the blurred model or I can open this box and find out whether the cat is dead.. or alive.





As for Chicago, the box will open in February 2011! :)

Ohm's Law

Ohm.

Not the unit of resistance in this case, but a word of liberation.

As a devout Hindu, I utter this word almost in reflex at the face of danger. This is my way of summoning God to pull me out of whatever mess I am in.

Let me clarify a few things before I continue with what is sure to spark a controversial discussion between many people. I don't call for God because I am religious. In fact religion is the exact opposite of God. Also, for those who believe that Hinduism is a religion(especially Hindus that are blinded by this misconception), you are wrong. Hinduism is a philosophy. It is a way of life. It advocates principles and morality. While belief in God is recommended, it is certainly not a requirement for faith in the Vedic philosophy. The all-knowing Wikipedia defines Hinduism as, " a diverse system of thought with beliefs spanning monotheism, polytheism, panentheism, pantheism, monism, atheism, agnosticism, gnosticism among others." So now that I have made my disclaimer, I won't be contradicting myself when I claim that I am not religious!

But many people in our society are. They are religious. They are orthodox. Or they are liberal. But religion is a definition of who they are. Perhaps the more revolutionary thinkers want to stop and think about the concept of God or an alternative superior force that governs this universe. But most people only care about rituals. About names. About diet. Some will even go further. He is Hindu, but not Brahmin. She is Christian, but not Catholic. And what does this all mean?

It means separation. It means distance. It alienates you from someone very special. So it means hate!

I immigrated to Skokie, IL in 1998. I was born in Ahmedabad, India to a set of Gujarati parents. At two months of age they brought me to Dubai, UAE, a world attraction today. But back in 1987, it was still a barren piece of land in a terrible desert where freedom of religion was just a craving. It was a place where your shelter had to be rented and your belonging was temporary. And yet we celebrated Diwali, Christmas, Eid, Hannukah, Holi and many other festivals with incomparable excitement. My parents' closest friends there were Aziz Uncle and Sakina Aunty, who made the best sevaiyya in the world during Eid. This is where I learned that the basis of friendship is not religion, but love.

So on my first day at Lincoln Jr. High School, I was taken by surprise when a white girl sitting next to me told me that I would burn in hell for not believing that Jesus Christ was the son of God. It didn't matter that I still thought he was a great guy. Or that I loved Christmas(my loyalties were towards the presents) even more than Shivratri. What mattered was that I went to a temple every Sunday and she went to a Church. What mattered was that I believed in Nahusa and she believed in Noah's ark. What mattered was that she hated me without even knowing me.

So does it make sense for religion to bring you closer to God and simultaneously distance you from man? Sure, the Bhagvad Gita advocates detachment, but not hate.

Well, the scientific Ohm's law plays a huge role in society today.

I = V/R. I is flow, V is source and R is resistance. In order to optimize flow, V must be maximum and R must minimum. If one assumes that flow refers to knowledge, source refers to origin of information and resistance refers to societal limitations, we can appropriately figure out how to maximize the flow of knowledge. A very apt example of this is the internet. The flow of information online is immeasurable because we as users(or the source of knowledge) have lots to offer and control is minimal.

So can we duplicate this? Is it so hard for us to copy the virtual world that we created for a happier society in real life? I hate the gasps that go on when a fellow aunty gossips about her friend's son who is marrying a girl from a different religion. God forbid the utter calamity that will fall upon your household if your daughter-in-law speaks a different language. Inter-religious. Inter-caste. Inter-regional. Inter-this. Inter-that. Why does a union of two souls have to focus on differences?

According to Charles Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest, two individuals mate to make a strong offspring with the best features from either parent. It is time that we blend our values to adopt stronger principles. Both, the laws of physics and theories of evolution direct us toward this. I don't think we should forsake our belief system, but diversity is a boon and it's about time we accept it.

So today's youth are facing danger from the blind-faithed, traditional older generations. It might be time to reflexively summon God again!

Ohm!

Quantitative Romance

Matlab, to you this is an ode,
As you define the variables of my life.
Perhaps one day I can format a code,
And computation won't be a strife.

You are the heart of engineers,
The breath of mathematicians,
The ignorance of philosophers,
But truly a boon with pre-defined conditions.

With elegance you can model the hip,
Recreate the human eye,
Calculate the area of a feather tip,
Help me understand the value of pi.

I wander awestruck in your 800 line program,
With loops of if, for and do while.
Sometimes they cause a system jam,
But your uses are so versatile.

Numerical methods to approximate,
Matrices and arrays to store.
Functions to simplify and differentiate,
Integration is no longer a chore.

You may interpolate and Gaussian eliminate without any error,
But behind your tricks, I am the cognition.
So no surprise, this ode is slightly rarer,
It's not really for you, but for your magician! :)

Moving Threshold

Threshold.

I have been fortunate enough to be involved in the integrative field of Biomedical Engineering. And being in the center of the merging points of the purer faculties, I have heard several definitions of this word.

Let me first define the word, "threshold" as listed in most dictionaries: The point of a beginning.

Most people will nod their heads in agreement, but we as engineers or scientists or mathematicians know that threshold can mean something different to us. To an engineer, a threshold voltage is the value at which a chain reaction may begin. To a neuroscientist, it is the point above which an action potential will occur. To a doctor it is the physiological value necessary to diagnose a patient. To a mathematician, it is the point at which there is a 50% probability that a response will be elicited. To an artist, it is an entrance to something exciting. And to my mother, it is my age beyond which all decent men will have found a wife.

These definitions can fall under the roof of the dictionary definition, except maybe the mathematician one. It claims the point of a beginning only 50% of the time. Or my mother's definition-that one claims the END of freedom as we know it. But more or less, the dictionary definition says it well. The point of a beginning. A definite point.

Not really. The more you examine this value of a threshold, the more uncertain you find it. Threshold is really a range in practice. Make sure the error is less than 5%. Make sure your blood sugar stays between 100 and 126mg/dL. Make sure the voltage is between 1.45mV and 1.55mV. Make sure you're home between 1:30am and 2:00am(this is my curfew).

But a beginning is always well defined. My life began on January 24th 1987. I start work at 9am every morning. Featured soccer matches for FIFA air at 1:30pm CST. The record breaking Isner-Mahut tennis match began on June 22nd 2010 at 6:18pm (British Summer Time). Of course, the ends are foggy. Sometimes it takes days before we realize something is over.

So maybe threshold isn't just the point of a beginning, but it is a limit. It is like an asymptote, you approach it, but in order to reach the value, the function must change. In simple words, threshold is the end of one event and the beginning of another. When the threshold is crossed, the limit surpassed, there is a spike.

I have crossed this limit several times and stumbled over to fight with the spikes. And in order to cross these limits, I've had to move them first. Often we set limits for ourselves so we can keep our actions in check. But sometimes these are put forth by others, either to protect us or to restrict us. I am sorry, but neither of these conditions are acceptable to me. I've negotiated the value of thresholds in my life to expand my cage. When the tree can no longer bend, it must break and perhaps a new tree will grow there in its place. Safety might be a result of protection, but wisdom is the product of experience and I cannot keep myself from that. As for restriction, I value my freedom more than I value my life. I follow my own rules, make my own mistakes and develop my own theories.

Thresholds are the gates to an adventure. They are the end of boredom and the beginning of an organized turbulence. For a while, you can extend the tunnel and remain sheltered. But one day you break free. You discover your true potential. You rise above your threshold.

And your life begins, for real!

Domesticate Cancer?

Are you afraid of going to the jungle? Of course. There are lions, tigers, hyenas, wolves, elephants and millions of other animals that can prey on you for dinner. Are you afraid of going to the circus? No. In fact, children love the circus. Aside from the clown, there are tricks by wild animals- elephants walking on their hind legs, lions riding bicycles, monkeys displaying acrobatics and more.

Man evolved from being a hunter-gatherer to building communities. The major catalyst for this progression was the domestication of wild animals. Lions and tigers aren't practical examples, but we have domesticated useful animals like horses, bulls, goats, sheep, pigs and even carnivores like dogs. So then, it's possible to domesticate something wild and tame it so we can use it to our advantage.

Cancer. The word usually brings shivers down my spine. If it's localized, a surgeon can remove the tumor. However, when it spreads, it is like a hungry wild animal in search for prey. It attacks your body and uses your nutrients for its growth. That damn cancer cell!

But perhaps cancer research, although more complex, can benefit from the lessons of early man. Domesticate those wild things! Cancer cells have much in common with stem cells. They are undifferentiated and like stem cells they could be modified to develop according to our desires. They keep growing without restraint and that is what makes them wild. Suppression of apoptosis is key when tumor cells attack our body. And at times, we wish some of our cells didn't die or atrophy.

I am no genius. But I think there is much to learn from cancer cells and while they kill people now, they have the potential to help man make great discoveries. All man has to do, is tame them. Cancer cells aren't our enemies, but our angry pets that need some training. The answer lies in domestication. We have entered the jungles; It's time to put a leash on these cells!

Yin and Yang

My grandfather is a very artistic man. His memory has failed him in the last three years and so I thank him for distributing his wisdom early. His thoughts and stories have been presented to this world with a twist and a modern perspective through his grandchildren as they continue to get inspired by his words.

I have been having recurring thoughts about my Dada. I think telepathic communication is not a myth. People do connect with other people. Dreams and prayers are the cable that connect our thoughts with the ones we love without having to explicitly say them. Having said that, I would like to devote the rest of this entry to my favorite memory of my Dada.

As a child, he used to repeat a Sanskrit poem and explain each line with extreme elegance. Perhaps back then, I just enjoyed the idea that the Gods we prayed to were just like our parents. It was his innocent way of convincing us that the way you demand from your parents can be replicated when asking God for favors.

I see this poem in a new light now. I am a woman. I take on the role of Parvati. The poem highlights a battle of words between Parvati and Lord Shiva. Perhaps I should not disclose the end until you read it, but I will note that my grandfather had recognized the wits of my grandmother for him to believe so strongly in this poem.

The poem starts with a common scenario. Lord Shiva lost track of time while meditating. On his late arrival, Parvati refused to let him in the house. (Of course, today this problem is solved by multiple copies of the key). The man still has to answer to his better half and even Lord Shiva may not be able to help him in a battle of words.

The first meaning of Lord Shiva's line is what he implied. The second meaning is what Parvati interpreted. Yes, sometimes we know what you mean and we still like to mess with you because we can! Enjoy!

Parvati: Kastvam?
Who are you?

Lord Shiva: Shuuli,
1. The one with the trident
2. sick
Parvati: Mrugaya Bhishajam!
Go Find Medicine!

Lord Shiva: Neela KantaH Priye aham,
1. The one with the blue neck, O'beloved!
2. Peacock
Parvati: Kekaam yekaam kuru!
Prove it with your loud crowing voice!

Lord Shiva: PasupatiH,
1. The lord of all four legged creatures
2. Bull
Parvati: Naiva drushtey vishaaney!
I cannot see your horns, though!

Lord Shiva: Sthaanuur Mughdhey,
1. The immovable
2. Tree
Parvati: Na vadati taruH!
Trees cannot speak!

Lord Shiva: Jeeviteysa ShivaayaaH
1. I am Parvati's Life Partner
2. Shiva = Jackal
Parvati: Gachha atavyaam!
Go run to the forest then!

iti Hatha VachaH paatu va Chandra ChuudaH.
Thus, the Lord who bears the crescent shaped moon on his head lost the battle of words, but may you still protect me!
Unfortunately for Lord Shiva, none of the sweet talking he introduced into the battle worked. Women are very focused on winning and being swayed by romance is a distraction so we don't pay attention to it. The moral of the story? Men, don't try to win arguments. You never will. Even the invincible and divine have figured this out!

Cheers!

Pavlov's Dog

Pavlov.
I feel a sour, tingly taste in my mouth.
My hand reaches out to lick the lemonade powder.

An experiment conducted in my AP Psychology class has stayed with me for the past seven years. The brain is plastic-it learns and unlearns easily. But I haven't unlearned that the utterance of Pavlov does not imply the presence of lemonade powder. As a matter of fact, I haven't unlearned a lot of things. Learning is easy, but what about unlearning?

Learning is voluntary, but one has no control over unlearning. At this point I feel obliged to point out that there is a difference between unlearning and forgetting. Facts can be forgotten, but skills have to be unlearned. I can't forget how to ice-skate, but I can unlearn it with the lack of practice and by merely changing my body proportions so that the initial calculations of force and velocity no longer hold true.

Now that we have the difference down, I can get to the point. In the last twenty three years I learned more than I have unlearned, hopefully. If this wasn't true, it would just be sad. However, there are several things I wish I could unlearn. Not because these skills are unnecessary, but the thrill that comes with learning these for the first time is priceless. Also, the first execution of some of these skills deserved more excellence. So, I'd want to unlearn some of these skills just to learn them again.

I wish I could unlearn how to ride a bike.
I realize it is practically impossible to learn this when you are no longer a teenager and when the fear of falling has amplified. Learning how to ride a bike was a huge ordeal for me. My sister taught herself and mastered this art as a seven year old. When I turned seven, I got a bike with training wheels; They stayed on until I was thirteen. My sister decided to teach me initially and this left me with a giant bruise on my cheek bone. Learning how to ride a bike became a memorable bonding experience, because everyone(my cousins, my parents, my friends) contributed to bits and pieces that enabled me to cruise comfortably once the training wheels were off. Someone taught me to stop, someone else to turn and yet another person encouraged me to get back on the bike if I fell. Without any of these, riding a bike would become difficult. Yes, sometimes I want those training wheels back on so SOMEONE ELSE can tell me how to turn, how to stop or how to get back up. Being independent is a game of trial-and-error.

I wish I could unlearn how to dance.
I feel like one style of dance influences the performance of another style. This might be the beauty of the art, but it is also a limitation. I don't think I can ever perform an act without displaying a hint of garba in it. The clap, the snap or the weird skip will find its way into my routine one way or the other. So every time I prepare myself to learn a different style of dancing, I want to unlearn the previous styles to gain an authentic experience.

I wish I could unlearn Arabic.
Languages are best learned as a child. However, I learned how to read and write, but not how to understand it. My eleven years in Dubai seem unaccounted for with this gap between understanding the language and knowing the script. If I unlearned the script, perhaps I would have more motivation to learn the language as a whole.

I wish I could unlearn how to love.
Love eh? Weird and serious concept. For most of my life I claimed I don't really know what this (emotion) means and maybe I still don't. But for now, I want to unlearn what I believe is love. Yes, I love my family. Yes, I love my friends. I also love some other people who are not family and no longer friends. Love might be beautiful, but it is my intracranial self stimulation. It is a drug that one chooses over the needed supplements of life. More or less this ruins your life as you slave through to achieve someone else's expectations, ambitions and dreams and realize that while doing so, you lost yourself. Because really, where does loving yourself fall in when you have to share your love among so many other people? This is one skill I wish to unlearn never to re-learn.

Pavlov.
The hand reaches out into emptiness.
The sour, tingly craving remains.