Though I started off on an independent train of thought, it seemed appropriate to link this title to an article I read on Veena's blog. (I hope I don't hear you say “Awe, they are writing coordinated blog posts!”)
Over the years, a large number of trivial entities has been the reason for me being awed. The earliest such event that I can remember happened when I was in kindergarten. I had a neighbour who was a couple of years older than I (a very significant age difference, at that age... one may say 50% older!) who mentioned a certain “double-lined book” in conversation. With all the wisdom and experience of a 6-year-old, she explained that these books are used to write Hindi or Marathi script. So amazed was I at this complex entity (books were either blank or ruled... what is this new variation?) that I accompanied her to the stationery store to see for myself! The store was far, near the edge of my recognizable walkable universe, but I still went. Such is the power of curiosity!
Another such incident that I vividly remember occurred during my standard 1 exams. We had to write our answers on the question-paper itself, in contrast to the standard 2 students (who we shared the bench with), who had separate answer sheets. The teacher supervising the exam would occasionally hand out a “supplement” (one of the longest words I had ever heard back then! Aside: one of the proudest moments of standard 1 was when I spelled the word “umbrella” correctly during a “dictation”!) and students had to tie the supplement to the 4-sided paper they started out with! Wow! You can actually tie papers in an exam? Once I saw the guy sitting next to me perform this magical task. I shuddered at the thought of performing this herculean task the following year... I didn't know how to tie a paper! I knew how to tie shoelaces, but those knots are meant to come off easily too. What if my exam paper comes off? Oh, the stress!
And things didn't just stop with that. If activities of those one or two years older had such a profound impact, you can probably imagine my utter and incomprehensible awe at what my 7-year-older brother did! He went to boarding school for two years, at a time when I was 5 years old. My parents probably wanted me to try out boarding school sometime in the future as well, but to even begin to think of living away from home for a year, with strangers, where the only people looking after you were teachers (evil tyrants, cruel taskmasters, people who give homework – that infernal thing – and shout at us if we don't do it, and prevent us from talking by sternly reprimanding us with “finger on your lips!”) was inconceivably traumatic. I may have considered the possibility when I was a bit older, but the fear I had as a 5-year-old never really went away. It was a reputed school and I enjoyed visiting the place, but I could never think of living there. The day he left for boarding school for the first time, I was probably asleep at the time he left; and I had forgotten that he was to leave that day. I remember searching for him around the house... even under the cupboards and beds (which had a ground-clearance of 3-4 inches... how can a kid get under that, you ask? Well, I guess I lived by Sherlock Holmes' words even then... see the quote in the sidebar).
There were many such incidents at numerous points. In standard 12, my biology professors scared all those who were intending to enter medicine by telling us the size of medical books. Gray's Anatomy is so big that you will never have a chance to read anything a second time, so you have to pay more attention when you read your books, they said! As I compose this post, I see all my medical books sitting in my bookshelf and then I see my degree on the desk that attests that I have read all those tomes, and I smile. I never did own Gray's Anatomy, or read it even once, let alone come back to read something twice!
The fact is that time marches on relentlessly, without heeding one's insecurities. We adapt, we improve and we manage to overcome the situation. It is really not such a big deal. I would wonder if I could go through reading my standard 12 books: measly little booklets of some 300-400 pages each, compared to the 1200-page volumes I was reading a year later, and 2500-page volumes I was reading three years later! A million people, just like you, went through this before you, and so will you. This concept has blunted my awe of things, and I no longer react the way I did growing up. More accurately, it has blunted the negative emotions (the insecurity and anxiety) attached to the awe. And I think that's a good thing.
Over the years, a large number of trivial entities has been the reason for me being awed. The earliest such event that I can remember happened when I was in kindergarten. I had a neighbour who was a couple of years older than I (a very significant age difference, at that age... one may say 50% older!) who mentioned a certain “double-lined book” in conversation. With all the wisdom and experience of a 6-year-old, she explained that these books are used to write Hindi or Marathi script. So amazed was I at this complex entity (books were either blank or ruled... what is this new variation?) that I accompanied her to the stationery store to see for myself! The store was far, near the edge of my recognizable walkable universe, but I still went. Such is the power of curiosity!
Another such incident that I vividly remember occurred during my standard 1 exams. We had to write our answers on the question-paper itself, in contrast to the standard 2 students (who we shared the bench with), who had separate answer sheets. The teacher supervising the exam would occasionally hand out a “supplement” (one of the longest words I had ever heard back then! Aside: one of the proudest moments of standard 1 was when I spelled the word “umbrella” correctly during a “dictation”!) and students had to tie the supplement to the 4-sided paper they started out with! Wow! You can actually tie papers in an exam? Once I saw the guy sitting next to me perform this magical task. I shuddered at the thought of performing this herculean task the following year... I didn't know how to tie a paper! I knew how to tie shoelaces, but those knots are meant to come off easily too. What if my exam paper comes off? Oh, the stress!
And things didn't just stop with that. If activities of those one or two years older had such a profound impact, you can probably imagine my utter and incomprehensible awe at what my 7-year-older brother did! He went to boarding school for two years, at a time when I was 5 years old. My parents probably wanted me to try out boarding school sometime in the future as well, but to even begin to think of living away from home for a year, with strangers, where the only people looking after you were teachers (evil tyrants, cruel taskmasters, people who give homework – that infernal thing – and shout at us if we don't do it, and prevent us from talking by sternly reprimanding us with “finger on your lips!”) was inconceivably traumatic. I may have considered the possibility when I was a bit older, but the fear I had as a 5-year-old never really went away. It was a reputed school and I enjoyed visiting the place, but I could never think of living there. The day he left for boarding school for the first time, I was probably asleep at the time he left; and I had forgotten that he was to leave that day. I remember searching for him around the house... even under the cupboards and beds (which had a ground-clearance of 3-4 inches... how can a kid get under that, you ask? Well, I guess I lived by Sherlock Holmes' words even then... see the quote in the sidebar).
There were many such incidents at numerous points. In standard 12, my biology professors scared all those who were intending to enter medicine by telling us the size of medical books. Gray's Anatomy is so big that you will never have a chance to read anything a second time, so you have to pay more attention when you read your books, they said! As I compose this post, I see all my medical books sitting in my bookshelf and then I see my degree on the desk that attests that I have read all those tomes, and I smile. I never did own Gray's Anatomy, or read it even once, let alone come back to read something twice!
The fact is that time marches on relentlessly, without heeding one's insecurities. We adapt, we improve and we manage to overcome the situation. It is really not such a big deal. I would wonder if I could go through reading my standard 12 books: measly little booklets of some 300-400 pages each, compared to the 1200-page volumes I was reading a year later, and 2500-page volumes I was reading three years later! A million people, just like you, went through this before you, and so will you. This concept has blunted my awe of things, and I no longer react the way I did growing up. More accurately, it has blunted the negative emotions (the insecurity and anxiety) attached to the awe. And I think that's a good thing.
6 comments:
You're obviously in the right place by choosing a life in science - since things like double lined books once aroused your curiosity!
Well, I suppose a healthy, inspiring dose of awe without the accompanying sense of our own ordinariness is a positive feeling.
:) :) Very funny and sweet post.
what a thoroughly entertaining post!!! I rememebr being totally "awed" by the word "supplement" :) Like Veena, I guess awe hasn't left me. I am hit by it now and then - by what a human mind is capable of accomplishing! Re, your last line, all I'll say, is, wait until you have kids :)
That was sweet! You actually remember details like not knowing how to tie papers together! :)
P.S. And I worked on your tip. My blog's background is fixed now! Thanks so much. :D
Very nice post:)
I can relate with the fear of being able to manage supplements - I was morbidly afraid that they might get lost by the time the paper reached for assessment. I used to tie at least 2 threads and spend over 10 minutes in doing so, just to ensure that the supplements don't come off!
Nice template modification. Looks like you have worked a lot on HTML.
Good going, n all the best for residency :)
Thanks! The HTML work was mainly to get rid of stuff rather than to add stuff. The template is very very simple now... worked on Photoshop for the header and the vertical lines.
Nice post! I totally know what you mean. I work with kids and adolescents and it's funny sometimes to see them in awe of things or just so anxious (such as not passing a test) that they think it's the end of the world. And all I want to do is to tell them, that as you go on in life, these things won't seem so bad. :)
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