Monday 2 April 2018

Floating Away In Space

The Public Science Communication seminar class today turned out to be more than a seminar aimed at honing our skills in science communication. The speaker, Peggy Whitson happens to be an astronaut at NASA, in addition to being a Rice alum. Endowed with sharp wit and a great sense of humor, it was hard not to be awed as she walked us through the plethora of research areas and activities that have been going on in the International Space Station (ISS) While many of us have frequented videos and interviews of famous astronauts, being in the same room with someone who has walked in space was surreal to me
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Space culture is a legacy, involving international collaboration. This brings me to one of the most interesting realizations that while progress in science is made when people who practice it achieve success, leaving behind a culture and a legacy that makes people think and pursue new frontiers is success of a different kind altogether- one that shape civilizations. One of the many objectives of the Public Science Communication Seminar course has been to make students aware of the many mediums through which science can be communicated. What Peggy Whitson communicated today, however was an experience that gave me a new perception towards science. I have heard numerous times that science is an evolving field, something that changes with time, as discoveries are made, as an hypothesis is established (or rejected) after years of hard work. But one cannot deny the challenges of being stuck miles away from the Earth, and confronted with an emergency that can be life threatening. While there are decisions to be made by astronauts in space based on the knowledge base of the ground crew, it indeed is like taking a leap of faith


It was fascinating to hear about how different life is in space. The aspect of physically being in space is like a timed choreography in itself she recounted and coming from an astronaut who has been a part of four space walks, this resonates stronger than everything that she shared.
As she spoke about the struggles of life in zero gravity, it became evident that the success of a space mission depends not only on the frontiers that are achieved in space, but also the operation of the ground  crew
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What I took away from this seminar was how science communication is as much about being able to communicate successfully the struggles every scientist faces that lie buried under the numerous success stories that become popular. That collaborations and pushing oneself outside comfort zones is needed, if progress is to be made. I believe that talking science is never hard, setting the right stage for it, is. 

Sunday 18 March 2018

Science and Beyond

After attending ComSciConHouston 2018a two day workshop focused to communicate science to the public, I am finally about to start writing about science. The key to successful science communication it seems lies in being able to talk about science at a level that even a five year old can understand what you are trying to get through. And as easy as it might sound, the struggle in toning down your work or research in easy to understand terms is real. It is hard to present your research in a way that is concise but still accurate. On the first day of the workshop, when I was asked to give a three minute spiel of what my research is about, I had no idea how certain terms I had assumed to be commonly understood by people turned out to be obscure and were labelled jargon. 
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And so the most important lesson I learnt was to level off the ground for people to make them care about what you have to say. We had some amazing panel discussions and insights about the real struggles associated with communicating science where all the panelists had a singular advise: get rid of jargon and turn your research into a narrative, so that the audience (or anyone you are trying to communicate with) can feel the connection; can understand that your science is not about you alone. Someone called it "Explain and not name" and I felt indeed how critical it was, especially in  this  era of digital information overload; where people often might not read or even listen to content that is not compelling enough to them. And the only way to make them care is to hook them to your story. 
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I also learnt some fun facts: 

#1.There is something called Kardashian index which is a measure of the gap between a scientist's digital (social media) presence and the number of citations. Apparently, science needs it own share of tweets and facebook likes. 
#2. Networking is as important as doing research.
#3. Well you still need a Real Job, I was told. Ironically, even though based on facts and driven by science, a lot of people still do not consider science communication as a real job. 
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When I started grad school, I had little idea about what science communication was, let alone practice it. But like everything that we learn slowly and become adept at, communicating science is an art that needs practice. 
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ComSciConHouston 2018 has been a great starting point for me. I met some amazing people. It was indeed wonderful to be in a room full of people, united by the singularity of their passion not only towards science, but also driven to bringing it out for people. At the end of the day, it is all about reaching out and taking chances for the things that you truly care about. #comscicon

Friday 29 December 2017

The Year I found Myself.

"You are so kind and full of love". While I have always been seen as a caring and a loving person, something about the way this was said to me yesterday overwhelmed me. Perhaps it was because that somewhere in the spontaneity of life itself I had forgotten to love my self. That was some time back and yet when I look back today at this year, I feel strong, I feel liberated and happy that in spite of everything that could have gone wrong in the past, I did the one thing that makes me who I am- I found myself
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I still remember, how exactly an year back on this day, I was sad. I was unhappy as several things in my life were in chaos. My entire life seemed to be a chaotic mess- of people, of circumstances and all that could not be right. People close to me knew what I was going through, they stood by me and yet none of them could alleviate the pain that incurs when your soul breaks into a million pieces. Perhaps it is in the nature of things that they always tend to collapse and fall apart.
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Only to be rebuilt again
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And so I when I look back through 2017, I feel that I could have never been closer to myself before this. I embraced myself in the truest possible ways. I spent time with myself doing things I loved the most- reading books, writing, traveling, making crafts and volunteering at the museum. I often get the question that how do I manage so many things when I am a full time grad student and the only thing I can think of is that I love what I do. I have always done things that I truly love and that makes all the difference to me
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I have realized that events will always be cowards. They will never occur singly, instead would occur in packs and leap out all at once. But even then, 2017 you will be special in a lot of ways. Years later when perhaps I'd have tell my daughter about you, I'd do so with a sense of pride and affection that will always be reserved exclusively for you. For you gave me a new beginning. I'd tell her how in the middle of chaos I found peace and I'd teach her never to compromise with her convictions and stand by what she truly believes in. That when we truly believe in the smallest of things we find the strength to be ourself. I'd tell her how slowly over time she will find a sense of peace and contentment that can only be felt and not stringed into words. I'd tell her that some day every bad phase would be overwritten by the good and the love inside her soul. And that love will always guide her towards all that is beautiful and infinite.
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Like the shooting stars and the moon. 
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And stardust. 
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Thank you for being kind to me. I will miss your quirkiness and all that was good about you, for in you I found myself. 

-S.

Monday 18 December 2017

The Baggage


Its been a while,
since I saw him on the flight I took to India. 
He was beautiful. 
his hazel colored eyes sparkling as he flicked away the tousled brown hair 
away from them. 
He was silent, that boy
his face a mask of monotony,
not once looking out towards the golden hued clouds
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They must have fought- I tell you, and yet
his deep brown eyes stood out in the crowd.
His rugged breathing was hoarser than the sound of the baby,
 wailing down the passageway. 
Just as hard to ignore, 
and when once he caught my eye,
his beautiful smile almost broke my heart.
the flight was long, 
and I was tired
.

As i dozed off, i saw him resting lightly 
on the hand rest,
softly moving through the  turbulences.
But I tell you, he was worried,
for all the excess baggage he had boarded on with

-S



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Saturday 4 November 2017

The Space Between Us

Could you ever fall in love with a place, even before you knew it existed? This is not a trick question. I'd genuinely want to know that is it possible to fall in love with something that might have not made its presence felt in your life, ever? 
Perhaps except in your dreams.
And perhaps this is one world- this world of dreams, that opens up new and unexplored horizons- of possibilities, of knowing and of awareness. As a person driven by the language of the universe, I feel that our dreams tell us a lot, speak to us in different ways. Its been a while that I have been journaling my dreams, and what I find mysterious is how vividly the minute details stand out in the realm of my subconscious mind. Writing about love in her book, the Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri notes that falling in love with a stranger - is sexy, but the moment when I saw you in my dream- a part of that truth changed. Or maybe the equation did. You were no longer the stranger I'd never met, but in fact recognition dawned in as I was watching another me. Another half of me, that had been hidden away, whose presence had been revealed to me just as the mist of consciousness had lifted. 
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Its beautiful, how in our dreams even the language of silence speaks loudly. There is nothing that is spoken and yet there is nothing that remains unsaid. Its just the awareness that matters- like parallel  worlds, mutiverses, where planes would just meet- only in this case it'd mean intersection of  our awareness. And amidst all this, amidst all the promises we had made to meet at the end of the world, between lines that which is truth and that which is just an illusion, it was not you I had thought of.
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For you were always the drug that kept me alive-
the only addiction I ever had,
And even as I search for a place to hide in some far away galaxy,
that is place is just so far. 
That even if I did escape, 
It'd be the awareness of you that'd keep me sane;
For you were always My own personal brand of heroin;  
as we stay united,
even in our own disparities. 


-S. 

Wednesday 1 November 2017

Blue

Blue-
is the warmest color, they say;
the color that fills one with life, and happiness-
scattered and refracted across the sky and oceans,
forging-
    that inevitable bond between land and sea,
   one that exists between life and death.

And yet, when asked to choose one,
to define my life-
 the only color that seemed warm
  was the hazel staring back at me-
    each time I look into your eyes;
like the warmth of a city-
   slowly thriving,
                throbbing and pulsating with life,
under the throes of a scary, cold winter;
this warmth -
     (yours')
      stays within me,
like the fire that burns in a Dragons' belly.

I'd known such hues,
 only in the color cards I'd choose my colors from-
to fill up my palette.

I remember,
   looking into them-
  once,
while you were ecstatic-
  and while you never intended to charm me,
 the veins within them were so distinct that i felt myself,
.
.
.
drowning-
  within a melange of a million kaleidoscopes.

Blue, is the warmest color they say,
   but my ochre-eyed angel,
   do you know,
    that hazel, could be warm too.. ?

-S.
   

Sunday 29 October 2017

The Story of the Fall...

                                                              (i)

How do you tell the story of falling in love?
 the story of the fall that-
never was the fall,
   that was slow at first,
      and then as rapid as a meteor,
shooting past the darkness of the city-
   that lay unaware of the celestial dance,
      we had inadvertently led ourselves into-
setting it ablaze,
      like the stardust,
      we were made of,
shimmering, glittering, leaving behind a trail,   
  of love,
of hope.

                                                           (ii)

How do we tell the story of 'us' falling in love?
     the story that had no prologue;
     we never said the word 'love'
     we didn't have to,
It was around us, in our laughter,
in the sense of wonder I found in you.
I saw it in your smile,
    the smile which was home,
    that turned a 'nothing' into 'everything'.
        
                                                       (iii)

How do I, tell the story of us falling in love?
When all that I have with me is a memory,
  nestled in my mind,
     waiting to be fragmented,
the one that awakens each time i close my eyes.
 "Us"
walking endlessly,
into the dark,
where the flickering lights gave way to the stars.
And amidst the conversations we had,
about nothing and everything- I remember the warmth of your touch.
You remember that too, don't you?
I sometimes wonder, if I was there at all.
And yet my heart knows,
that, 'that' was the beginning of it all.

-S.