Curious romantic

curious (adj): 

1. eager to know or learn something.

2. strange; unusual.

I am a curious child. And my curiosity is curious too. I am keen about everything. This curiosity usually translates into a series of non-sequitur questions. I piece together this theoretically unrelated information into a wholesome thought and come up with bizarre insights for myself.

I am a romantic. I quote love songs reflexively to describe my relationship. However, said relationship is one that I have with my career. They say you've met your soul-mate when spending time with them is an amalgam of fun, challenge and intrigue. You continually cross paths and fate is emphasizing the inevitability of being together. So yes, BME is my soul-mate. 

There have been times, I'm so confused. 

All my roads, they lead to you. 

I just can't turn and walk away.

-All for you, Sister Hazel

My first encounter with BME was serendipitous. It was a cold January morning about a decade ago. Weeks away from turning 17, my naivete met my mother's wisdom. Few hours before my Camras interview, she convinced me to switch my major from Aerospace Engineering to Biomedical Engineering. (So much for wanting to be a neurosurgeon in space!) Thus began an epic love affair.

Sifting through hundreds of lines of code and waking up to nightmares about cortex surfaces and magnets, I sometimes wonder about my sanity and my willingness to submit to this non-being. Am I really in love with something that doesn't breathe? How could this intangible entity have a soul? 

BME takes me on incomparable adventures. We're dancing through this never ending quest. We laugh at our missteps and turn the music on louder. We whisper to each other about scientific revelations and declare our love in high impact journals. Sometimes it keeps me up all night, and I face the morning tired, but happy.

I am a curious romantic. I question my lovely soul-mate. In the process of unearthing the great mysteries of the brain, I'm sometimes teased and sometimes surprised. After weeks of mulling over a question, when the answer is finally revealed, for a few moments I'm both amazed and contented. And then a new question is formed. While I'm interested in the answers to most questions in this world, the ones that truly make me happy are the ones to questions that keep me up at night, that make me forget the lyrics to my morning-shower song, that I'm obsessed with, that I know I can solve. 

Engineers love to solve problems. It is the core of our being. Perhaps that is what pulls me back to this whimsical field. My curiosity and my romanticism are intertwined in BME. And once again, I stand at the crossroads, curious if the road less traveled will still lead me to my fate.

 (I accept. I'll never be able to answer any of these!)

Stand Tall

There are two major life lessons I've learned in grad school: Write with conviction and stand tall.

If you are a 20-something year old Indian girl, chances are you are married, engaged, in-a-committed relationship or on the search for "the one" with an online dating profile. Clearly, you just cannot move on in your life until you've found your better half.  Let's face it, without a man next to you, you’re pretty insignificant.

Oh, you just got your doctorate? Well, that's nice, but it ain't a diamond ring. You just went to Ireland?  Was it for your honeymoon? No? Well, it couldn't have been that exciting then. You just bought yourself a convertible?  Is it nicer than the Porsche my hubby got me last Christmas?  That's okay, someday, you too will find love.

I have an online dating profile. No, I'm not ashamed to admit that, because it's both an entertaining and a learning experience. And because I don't take myself (or anyone else for that matter) seriously, it's an intriguing experience. It's a rocky ride through cheesy pick-up lines and a myriad of 2-week text relationships. At some point, I intend on writing a book titled, Creepazoid Chronicles.

Normally, I don't attempt to acquaint myself with someone based on just their looks and profession. There is also the personality factor: comfort level, sense of humor, worldly knowledge, etc. However, in the digital dating world, this is secondary. First judgment call is made on a rather shallow basis. This has allowed me to peek into the lives of people that I do not understand and quite frankly, people who disgust me.

Last weekend, I received an email (Note, initial interest was sent by them):

"Thank you for accepting our interest.  However, after further evaluation, we believe you would be unsuitable for our son. As you are pursuing a PhD, you will be quite career focused. But we are looking for someone who would instead support our son in his career since he is a doctor."

I hope this email angers you.  But then pause for a moment and laugh with me at the absurdity of this note.  I was just rejected from the position of wife-of-doctor for being too ambitious. When I shared this with my mom, she rolled her eyes and said, “Maybe I did raise you with too much freedom."

But did she?  She raised me to be passionate. She raised me to be independent (that's right, I don't exactly NEED a man unless I'm attending some Indian event). She allowed me to pursue my dreams. She encouraged me to travel and read and experience the world; Not just the picture painted by our "community", but the real world without stereotypes and self-imposed limitations. She raised me to believe that I can change the world.

So, I start now.  I write with conviction.  I stand tall!

(Mom, clearly I've met the love of my life!)

Musical Reality (English)

M: I'm gonna rock your world with 70s rock :P
Y: That's what's gonna rock my world? damn.. how well you know me!

The truth is, tunes from the 70s may not rock my world, but music really does. And yes, the above conversation is a lame attempt at humor (which was completely ignored by my friend), but this post is about some of the songs I associate with incredible memories. It's common to listen to a song and feel a sense of nostalgia come over you. Hence the following tribute (in no particular order). 

1. She Will be loved, Maroon 5 (2004)
This is my all-time favorite song. I turn into an 18-year old, the moment Adam Levine starts serenading me.

Coincidentally, it's the song that came into my life shortly before I turned 18. I was listening to this song (and going over O-chem reactions for a lab practical) when I got into my first car accident on Kennedy Expressway. I remember pulling over and exchanging insurance information with the middle-aged driver of the barely scratched SUV. This was my initiation into the adult world.

A few months later, Mary and I embarked on the Sophomore leadership retreat at Lake Geneva. While that trip is reminiscent of many epiphanies under the starlit campfire, this song was a testament to my self-confidence. Mary volunteered me for a solo while playing a game of personality bingo (i.e: Who is wearing a red shirt, Who has ever sung a solo, etc)  After initial hesitation, I sang the chorus of this beautiful song to an audience of several hundred people. And I don't wish to brag, but I was awesome! (Thanks for the voice lessons, mom!)


2. Oops I did it again, Brittney Spears (2000)
Eighth grade dance. First kiss. 'nuff said!


3. Leaving on a Jet Plane, John Denver (1969)
Just days after making the trans-Atlantic move from Dubai to Toronto, my family decided it was only sensible to spend the upcoming festivals in Chicago. So we drove across the Niagara Falls and trekked halfway through 'merica. Who knew this great city would become our new home? Of course, as my cousin's favorite song, this played endlessly during the wee hours of the night. Thus, it has left a solid imprint on my brain.

4. Swing Life away, Rise Against (2005)
I credit this song to Maulin. Thank you for aim-ing every worthy (and unworthy) song my way. Of course, in the plethora of music sent over, there were a few gems. This is one of those. It reminds me of the summer of 2005. It insinuates the memory of endless hours spent hunched over books, taking afternoon naps at your apt (and consequently pigging out on your food) and getting Lemon-ice with Alice on Taylor St before making the 4-mile hike to IIT. This was also the first song on my ipod-shuffle.

This song is also the epitome of my present life.

5. I want it that way, Backstreet Boys (1999)
My sister and I have always been close. However, a three year age gap means different things at different stages of life. When we moved to Chicago, I was an 11-year old child and my sister was a 14-year old teenager. In those dire times, BSB kept us connected. Of course, this bonding could have been animus if I too had been cray-cray for Nick. Shout out to my first love, AJ. Mclean.

6. Wish you were here, Pink Floyd (1975)
Sure, this is a classic. However, I did not obsess over this song until I read Five Point Someone in Dec. 2007. Pink Floyd is about recognizing vulnerabilities. I spent many nights in the next semester with glasses of Gewurztraminer and indulging in deep conversations. Yes, this song is about missing someone and every time I listen to it,  I do.

7. Tipsy, J-Kwon (2003)
"E'er body but Yag gettin' tipsy!" This became a tag line for my presence at extended family functions for several months after I sang along to J-Kwon during a car ride to a-place-i-can't-remember. This song reminds me of how awesome, yet crazy my family is. After that, I quickly digress into thoughts of cinnamon sticks and coke at Pizza Hut.

8. City of Blinding lights, U2 (2005)
My first real visit to NYC was in March 2007. It was Spring Break during my senior year at IIT. I was so in love with the city, that I vowed to myself that I would move to NY within the next 6 months. Luckily, I got to partition my time between Ithaca and NYC when I moved to Cornell later that year. The Brooklyn bridge is by far the most glorious platform I've walked on. In one of the U2 concerts, the intro to this song is a description of Manhattan as seen from the bridge. That is the only version I listen to. I am reminded of everything NYC has to offer and of promises that I make to myself and keep.
(Trivia: this is also Obama's intro song)

9. Banana Pancakes, Jack Johnson (2005)
Lazy Sunday afternoons.

Especially because I had a rule about only waking up in single digits (i.e before 10am). This rule is no longer being enforced in my life.

10. Santa Baby, Kylie Minogue (2007)
I vividly remember working on my Neural Interfaces paper while lying in my bed at the apt. on Danby. Puifai sent this song to me as a much needed distraction. This is a Christmas favorite! I love the holiday season and this song for reminding me that naughty can also be nice!

11. Her Morning Elegance, Oren Lavie (2009)
This is my blog's namesake. The stop-motion video is a parallel to what my life had become when I was introduced to this song. I was blinded to the mundane and routine struggles I was facing to achieve something I did not care for. This was a turning point as I abandoned a false dream I had fostered for years only to pursue the road less traveled. Thanks Frost. It has made all the difference.

12. Wait for sleep, Dream Theatre (1992)
What's the story morning glory? This song is implicative of everything that was freshmen year at IIT: daily commutes on the el, getting my driver's license, getting lost in the city and calling friends for directions (because smartphones and GPS were yet to come), piggin' out on mango tofu with Shira, asking out long-time crushes, making friends, losing friends, and basically having the time of my life!

13. From Paris to Berlin, Infernal (2005)
Europe 2008. A two-week trip with my sister that turned into an incredible adventure. It involved Madame Tussaud's, tea with the queen (or her minions), picnic by the Eiffel, crepes and hot Frenchmen, half-bridges and emergencies in Avignon, getting lost in Barcelona, joining strangers for a tapas/flamenco party at Las Ramblas, trying our luck in Monaco, fancy cars, gelato, sun-bathing in Nice, hikes and chocolate tours in Switzerland, missed flights in Venice and a group of amazing friends!

14. Anyone else but you, Moldy Peaches (2001)
I remember watching Juno at the Westbourne in Ithaca. I was only semi-impressed with Ellen Page. However, this song and the entire soundtrack (All I want is you, Barry Louis Polisar) was more memorable. I have since sang this song at many karaoke nights in Ithaca, DC, Chicago, etc. It's just a simple song that reminds me of who I really am- a part-time lover and a full time friend!

15. I'm gonna make this place your home, Phillip Phillips (2012)
In the last five years, I have lived in 5 different cities (not counting Chicago). This spontaneous, vagabond lifestyle leaves me wondering whether I felt at home at any of these residences. Of course, nothing may ever compare to the awesomeness of Chicago, but I have to admit, these past two years in Milwaukee have been kind of fabulous. As a commuter (yes, I engaged in a 90-mile one-way commute for a whole semester), I fell in love with the scenic amtrak ride and gelato at the Public market. Once I moved here, I discovered Leon's, Cafe Hollander, Jazz in the Park and the Art Museum. This song is usually playing during my daily ride on 94 which only adds to the Milwaukee experience. The gorgeous view of Miller Park at the break of dawn is breath-taking. The roof reminds me of a bridge and although it may not be the Brooklyn magnificence, it's damn close.

But, I'll never be a Packers fan!



Honorable mentions:
Sweet Caroline, Neil Diamond (1969)
Lean on me, Bill Withers (1972)
Wonderwall, Oasis (1995)
Crash into me, Dave Matthews Band (1996)
Iris, Goo goo dolls (1998)
Kiss me, Sixpence none the richer (1998)
Jumpin Jumpin, Destiny's child (1999)
It wasn't me, Shaggy (2000)
Goodbye Earl, Dixie Chicks (2000)
Love you madly, Cake (2001)
Thousand Miles, Vanessa Carlton (2002)
Numb, Linkin Park (2003)
Boulevard of broken dreams, Greenday (2004)
Fix You, Coldplay (2005)
Rain is a good thing, Luke Bryan (2010)

ps: The hindi version is coming up soon! :)

Crush function

Disclaimer: Because my crushes generally follow a similar trend, this is both an open letter and an apology to all the amazing crushes I have disappointed. I am sorry I stalked you through high-school only to fall for your best friend. I am sorry I made you drive to Greek town at 2am for chilli cheese fries! I am sorry I made you dance on bar tables and then ditched you for someone else. I am sorry I laughed at you when your car fell into a ditch next to my apt. I am sorry that I threw your keys into the ditch a few months later. I am sorry I stopped responding to your messages even though we had a pretty good date. I am sorry I dragged you to a horrendous local band concert. I am sorry I gave you nicknames and snickered around with my friends. I am sorry I made fun of your hair.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear crush, you are a sinc function.

I use this analogy mainly because I assume you will not understand it (unless you google it). Nor will anyone else who lives a life of sanity. If you do understand though, please share that with me so my attraction towards you can increase exponentially.

You seem to alternate between realms. Not in a multiple personalities sort of way, but more like melting ice-cream. You are in two states, simultaneously. This is precisely why you emulate this extraordinary function.

The normalized sinc function (time-domain) is the fourier transform of an ideal-low pass filter (LPF) (frequency domain). Your emotional attachment is like the LPF. Only casual emotions (the friendly wave, the random bumping into each other and the small talk) are allowed to filter through. The more intense emotions (I just had a fight with my mother and I need you to hug me) are cut-off. However, the definition of our relationship is like the sinc: relatively indefinite and with ringing side-effects. The narrower you set your cut-offs with the emotions, the wider the indefinition of our relationship becomes.

I wish you could choose a side and commit to it. If you choose to adhere to the time-domain, then be vague and ambiguous about everything. At least then I can label you as a flake and move on. However, if you choose to venture over to the frequency domain, then define everything-your emotions, our interactions, or the name of the dog we will never get.

I wish I could choose a side. The truth is that I don't REALLY know you. But I know me, and I definitely am a sinc function. I linger in a sea of confusion. My emotional attention span is about 2 weeks long. I too have a LPF for emotions. It is a delta function. As a result, none of my emotions ever make it through. And most things in my life remain indefinite.

Best,
YP

Twenty Five

" The years teach much which the days never knew."-Ralph Waldo Emerson

In less than two weeks, the clock will strike twelve and on a cold Tuesday, I will complete my twenty-fifth revolution around the sun. I will officially become eligible to run for the House of representatives and will enter the world of lower car insurance and quarter-life crises.

I am pretty sure that in the past 25 years I have only learned one thing. Growing up is difficult. Most people who know me closely can attest to my childish qualities. I am overly stubborn and passionate. I am incredibly opinionated. And I like toys and chocolates. I break into dance moves randomly, laugh obnoxiously and obsess over frogs. When someone gives me the silent treatment, I pretend they are planning a surprise. When someone is mad at me, I appease them with knock-knock jokes. And when someone suffers from insomnia, I recommend a dose of Arthur!

But there's more. On my first day at Marquette, a professor mistakenly assumed that I was a high-school senior on my college visit. She consequently explained her imaging research with incredible simplicity. I recently got carded before watching a rated R movie. I am sporting the same hair-cut that I had weeks before I turned 21. And my current favorite pair of denim shorts is from 8th grade.

So how can I convince the world that despite my quirks and my looks, I truly am 25? How can I assure you all that I will certainly become older and wiser? The honest answer is that I can't. I may become older, but that definitely will not make me wiser. I will continue to indulge in my childish pleasures. I will send out random presents and get excited for Christmas lights. I will giggle like a giddy child as my birthday approaches. And I will ask you eight times to explain your joke before I finally get it.

My naivety is a boon though. Being gullible helps one believe in fairy-tales and happy endings. Don't get me wrong, I am a sucker for a good action movie, but fables impart an essential cheer along with faith. Children never stop believing. That is why Santa is so popular. That is why losing teeth is a great money-making scheme as a child. And that is why they take that fearless leap from the dense branches of an unusually high tree. I will soon be a 25 year old child. And I believe. So I will continue taking my leaps and turns, and jumping from tree to tree. Surely, sometimes I will fall. After which I will just stand up with a smile on my face and skip to the next sandbox.

I won a copy of Peter Pan in the 1st grade during a dance competition. Since then, I have held a special attachment to that story and perhaps that is where the desperation to hold on to childhood comes from. It is the best depiction of friendship and the wonders of childhood. Chicago is my Neverland and I am Peter Pan: the perfect amalgam of mischief, charm and adventure. Now, why would I ever trade that for growing up?

Ivy City

"The trouble with you Chicago people is that you think you are the best people down here, whereas you are merely the most numerous."-Mark Twain

No offense Twain, but I object. We are certainly not the numerous (we rank 59th based on population density in the USA) and we are most definitely the best. It's a challenge to be a Chicagoan. You may think of Chicago as the ivy league of cities. Only the best and the brightest belong here. And I can prove it.

It was 47 F in Chicago today. And most of us Chicagoans agreed that it was a beautiful day. It had just the right amount of wind and sun. The average high in December is usually around 35 F and so this exceptionally warm day was welcomed with open arms by us. Walking around on State St. with many others, I was reminded not just of how beautiful my city was, but also about the uniqueness of Chicagoans.

Many people have spoken in praise of this amazing city. And many more have defamed it. But there is more to this city than meets the eye. The city of Chicago has a way to creep into your soul. Being a Chicagoan is more than just loving the eccentricity of a city life and enjoying the plethora of food options. Perhaps one of the most important attributes of being from here is the ability to live truly and to live always.

What most people consider cold and gloomy, Chicagoans consider warm and sunny! We are the epitome of people who believe the glass is half full. And why shouldn't we? Our politics, weather, neighborhood and the overall infrastructure of the city and its culture begs one principle of us: Carpe Diem.

Two glass bottles were placed on a table with a pile of large rocks on one side and a pile of sand on the other. The task was simple; Put the sand and the rocks into the glass bottle. The first person examined the two piles and reached for the sand first. However, he failed as he tried to fit the large rocks on to the bed of sand. The second person reversed the order. He was easily able to fit the rocks into the empty bottle. He then poured the sand down that gracefully filled up the precipices between the staggered rocks. The rocks here represent the major priorities of life and the sand represents the simple amusements. This is Chicago, where we occasionally find a warm day trickle into the crevices of cold, dark reality, and we most certainly seize it.

We have the most corrupt of all politics, the harshest of weathers, and the most dangerous airport. Yet, we are happy. It's because we know what's important and have a way of making the best of everything. If life gives us snow, we make snowmen, if life gives us sun, we make people jealous at the beaches, and if life gives us Derrick Rose, we make MVPs. We are a city of people that open our luxurious lofts to strangers when Lake Shore Drive is blocked. We are a city of people that make Pizza more delicious than it's ever been in Italy. We are a city of people that combine the traditions of the world to make our own unique identity.

Yes, not everyone can live in Chicago. But a Chicagoan can live everywhere!

Just a Taste

There is a cozy little tapas bar in the Ithaca Commons, "Just a taste!". It isn't my favorite tapas place(Cafe Iberico is!), but I loved going there for one main reason: samplers! Tapas in themselves imply taste portions of incredible delicacies, but this little place also offered flights of wine in taste portions. It was an invitation to indulge in everything you desire, but in moderation. Say you got that crispy cauliflower in yogurt sauce and realized you didn't quite like it, that's okay, because the portion was just large enough to grab a taste of, but not so much so that you had to finish it even if you felt sick.

In some ways this is how I feel about boys. I think I'm excited to taste but afraid to order the whole entree. In a recent conversation with myself (because I do that sometimes to rationalize things), I had an epiphany. My longest relationship has been with Biomedical Engineering (BME). It's been seven years and going strong. And that too is because you can taste several engineerings in one bite of BME. Now, I know what most of you are thinking. Am I really going to compare real life with food? So for you, even though it's a completely valid comparison, I'll add some science to this. With the food example it may sound like this desire to taste is just a want, but with science, perhaps I can prove that it is actually a need.

Last week I was exposed to many many brilliant minds in the beautiful city of Washington, DC. Now now, hold on to your chairs, because I don't mean the politicians. I am actually talking about the great neuroscientists who unfold the mysteries of our brains. Dora Angelaki is one such scientist. She gave a talk on the importance of sensory integration. In her introduction, she explained that the significance for sensory integration lies in its ability to reduce noise and to avoid ambiguities. Her example was about the pilot who is accelerating through the clouds and is unable to tell the difference between flying upwards and plummeting downwards because his vestibular input can't separate the tilt and the translation. Without his visual feedback, the input signal is both noisy and ambiguous. By the time his head is out of the clouds (no pun intended), it's too late to correct this mistake and the plane crashes.

Perhaps my fear to commit is not irrational. Maybe when I meet my chocolate covered strawberry I'll know. Maybe all my senses with be in sync and I'll be able to make that weird promise called "love". But that time isn't now. I'm still juggling two-week crushes and quirky dates. I'm still enjoying getting hit on during Saturday night extravaganzas. I'm still loving to taste without the after taste.

Plus, I truly believe what the Blakes have sung!

Well there's so much that I want to do
I haven't done without someone
Hanging on my side

Just Desserts

It's been a while. Today I'll be talking about cake. And not just any cake, but the one that you get on your birthday. See, birthday cakes are just slightly more special than regular cakes. Each layer of this cake represents a unique quality of yours and with each bite, you embrace the blessing of a friend. The cake is even more delicious because someone else ordered it for you. Someone else went through the trouble to make this day special. Yes, birthday cakes are the best.

In the dark room, there is nothing but the flames of your years, glowing brightly and illuminating the surrounding. It's symbolic of the radiance that you create in others' lives. Beneath those candles is your name, carved in beautiful calligraphy atop a frosting that one can only crave for. You close your eyes and make a wish. A pause is necessary in case you want to change it. But you go ahead with your initial wish. I want the largest piece of cake today.

Now the knife makes its way through the layers. For the first time, you catch a glimpse at the inside of the cake. Each layer so beautifully structured. You stop to wonder why your life isn't an accurate reflection of this cake? Why aren't all the layers so perfect? And it suddenly dawns on you, perhaps the knife needs to cut farther to reveal the perfection of those layers in your life.

You feed the first slice to your best friend in the room. She takes a giant bite and poses for the camera. But you're not done here. She offers to feed you. SMACK. The delicious frosting is now sporting a Santa-like beard on your face. Oh those perfect layers are now smeared in utter randomness. And you, the birthday celebrity, look just a tad ridiculous.

You smile and pose for the camera. So what if these layers are mixed and mashed and smothered upon your face? You stick your tongue out and reach for the corner of your mouth. Mmm.. A hint of chocolate ganache mixed with coconut and butter-cream. The deliciousness is retained. You return for another piece and repeat the ritual with every special person in the room. More layers reduced to art on your face. The cake is now getting smaller. There are only so many pieces left. In an effort to feed others, you have forgotten to save a giant piece for yourself.

And the night comes to an end. All that remain are the remains of your birthday cake. So, in your empty living room you ponder.

Did I get the largest piece of cake?

Glorious Game

It's been a while. The new year has begun. I am now 24. And I have lost a very dear person in the last few weeks. I will try to keep my thoughts organized, but I can't guarantee that I won't turn this into a giant rant. Because after all, that is what you are here to read anyway.

I have written about my grandfather before. However, it saddens me to refer to him in the past tense. He might not be here physically, but I am sure his principles and teachings are continuing his legacy by inspiring the lives of his wonderful children and grandchildren. He liked to engage in discussion and learn about new phenomena. He enjoyed traveling and playing the flute. But my dearest memories of him bring forth a very child-like character. He would play games with me, learn with me and also indulge in mischief. But that is what he considered life. A child's game. Not one to be taken seriously, but instead an experience to enjoy and cherish. Like any game, you win some and you lose some, but at the end of it, you wrap up the board, boil a pot of tea and just open up another game.

And so I have. I closed a few boards in my life and opened up new ones. I am making my moves carefully, but those damn dice have a mind of their own. So what do I do? I just play. Other players can join or leave as they please, but this time I'm playing to win. Here I am faced with another old problem. What about cheating? Is that okay as long as I win in the end? Ah, but in the game of life, you only live by the rules that you define. :)

So then it's okay to tweak those moves a little and make amends, say a little prayer before rolling the dice, and conveniently collaborating with another player. These forms of modulation are in fact necessary to succeed in the ever glorious game. Here I am, creating smaller games in this mega-tournament. Every task is a puzzle and every action is a move. If my calculation is correct, this time around, I've started off strong. Other players are already collaborating with me. Some just don't know it yet. My faith has found a permanent place. And perhaps my ego has enhanced this quality.

Playing these mini-games is almost an addiction now. Sometimes I play them unconsciously. On other occasions, I ponder retrospectively, analyzing every move made by me and by my opponent. I assign points, perhaps in a biased manner, because I always win. And the wins make the game even more enjoyable ( a positive feedback loop?).

As a conclusion to this ridiculous rant, I will pay some tribute to my latest game. Its key players are undeniably the most important people in my life. This game is strange, because the winner doesn't have to defeat the opponent, he just has to bring the opponent to his side. It's a tug of war. It's an intellectual debate. It's an adventure. It's the best game I've ever started!

I'll end with a very dear line from my favorite book, Catcher in the Rye, "Life is a game, boy."

ps: While I engage in my own exaggerated matches, I wish the Indian Cricket team the very best on the upcoming World-Cup! :)

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 ;)

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!