Category: Science

Pinecones & the Secrets of the Universe

I was in a class in which we were learning how to teach art. This class was particularly fascinating for me. For the class had a very hands-on make-your-art-while-learning approach to it. One session we learnt free-play, another session: elements of music. One time we all went downstairs and broke off into small groups choreographing dance routines with little themes. Birds in a storm, ritual-rhythm-like movements, a morning routine etc. Teaching through drama, poetry (this is where I learnt about black-out poetry), and one time we learnt how to extract pine nuts from a pinecone. 

The Secrets of the Universe

There are many reasons that I loved that particular activity. I have always loved pinecones. There is something about them. Like it is hiding all the layers and secrets of life itself inside that protective cone. I thought if I could ever design a home for myself, it would be like living inside a pine cone hanging off a handsome, bounteous pine tree, swaying in the breeze, holding my own in the storm, and gently lulling fellow living beings to a peaceful state as they rest under my boughs. 

Of course, human-beings are never as accomplished as all that, and instead, I spent many wonderful evenings gazing lovingly at the pine trees nearby. Watching a pine cone drop from the boughs above, trying to pry it open to see  what lies inside. 

I was reminded of Hope Jahren’s book, Lab Girl while musing about the pine cones.

In the book, Dr Jahren writes about the science and its demands on its lovers. Her writing is lyrical, and when she writes of her research and her little moments of leap, it is nothing short of poetic. For instance, she writes of the time she was studying the structural makeup of the seeds of hackberry trees, and she unmistakably finds traces of Opal in the seeds:

“It was opal and this was something I could draw a circle around and testify to as being true. While looking at the graph, I thought about how I now knew something for certain that only an hour ago had been an absolute unknown, and I slowly began to appreciate how my life had just changed.

I was the only person in an infinite exploding universe who knew that this powder was made of opal. In a wide, wide world full of unimaginable numbers of people, I was – in addition to being small and insufficient—special. I was not only a quirky bundle of genes, but I was also unique existentially because of the tiny detail that I knew about Creation,…Until I phoned someone, the concrete knowledge that opal was the mineral that fortified each seed on each hackberry tree was mine alone.”

Not that we learnt anything that was ours alone during that lesson with pinecones, but it felt just as special. Like the pinecones were divulging the little secrets of the universe to us, to hold carefully and pass on.

Pine nuts are nuts!

It was a fascinating experience to see how pine nuts were extracted from the pinecone. The pine cones do not open wherever they please. It has to be under certain temperatures and even then, it is a tricky business. Once the pine nuts can be extracted, it isn’t a simple task to extract the flesh within them which is the edible part of the whole thing. 

So we sat there polishing the nuts against sandpaper chatting amiably with each other on how much effort it takes. I could very well imagine this being a community-building, all-the-aunts-and-grandmas-singing-together kind of activity. 

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/N1OeoaHGeLM

Of course, now there are mechanical shakers and crushers to do some of the work. But still, the process remains an expensive, labor-intensive process. Pine nuts are expensive – “Pine nuts are nuts!”

By the end of extracting the flesh from within the nuts though,I had a renewed sense of appreciation for the expensive packets in stores. 

I sat there one evening gazing up at the tree and saw the squirrels in the neighborhood loosen a pine cone from the tree. It fell with a soft thud upon the grass below. A single pine cone in a suburban lawn. Holding the secrets of the universe or at least the universes of pine trees in them.

🌥️🌎🎨🌦️ Gaia, the Artist 🌥️🌎🎨🌦️

🌦️🌎🌥️ Pleasures of a Pluviophile 🌦️🌎🌥️

The clouds were beautiful on this summer day, and though I had a row of deadlines to meet, I took off cloud gazing. As I walked towards my regular haunt admiring the riverbed nearby, I felt a few plops of satisfying raindrops.

Raindrops in July – even the sparsest of sprinklings – is a blessing. I took my time, strolling and savoring every drop on my face. The pleasures of being a pluviophile in the Bay Area means that, that part of me only gets to come out and play rarely.

By evening, the clouds could scatter and be gone. The next day was forecasted to be scorching. And yet, I had no option but to turn back and take care of my work, instead of doing what the avocets and bluebirds were doing. Swooping and swaying to the mild breeze and enjoying the weather.

🌥️ 🌥️ 🌥️ Is there a task more important than cloud-gazing? 🌥️ 🌥️ 🌥️

Duty beckons. Life is earnest. I tried telling myself. But it was no use – how could there be anything more important than cloud-gazing? I wonder.

When I have a classroom, I shall have a marvelous lesson on clouds, replete with cloud-poetry, art, and a science lesson, on beautiful cloudy days. Cirrus, cumulonimbus, cumulus, stratocumulus. The poetry writes itself, the paintbrush yearns, and the moisture droplets coalesce, weigh into Earth without pressing down, and all of it is science and magic.

I went home, and finished up my tasks in a tearing hurry so I could step out for sunset again, all the while praying that the clouds would still be there in the evening. They were. You see? The summer thus far has had its share of sunsets with not a speck of a cloud. I know because I gaze longingly for clouds every time I step out at sunset.

🌥️🌎🎨🌦️ An Evening on Earth  🌥️🌎🎨🌦️

I sighed a gusty sigh as I saw the beautiful fluffy cirrus clouds on the horizon. No deadline was going to keep me from this sunset now. The birds chirped in agreement and the breeze swirled its approval of my decision. So, this time, I took my time. I savored every streak: every elegant swirl of grey, every blushing splash of pink, watched it turn into a brilliant orange, and then bloom into purple.

I watched the diamonds of the evening twinkle from in between the clouds.

I watched the planets shine, and hours later, the stars sparkle and tease. If I could send a snippet of this to fellow beings on other planets, I would. For what greater magic is there than the birds flying home, the crickets chirping their evening greeting, the California poppies slowly closing their petals as though trapping that last drop of golden light in them, and the deer stopping to gaze at a being admiring a sunset?

An Evening on Earth.

What are your favorite bedtime books?

Bedtime Books 

The past few nights have been hot. I would’ve used the term ‘sweltering’ but after reading about chinchillas, I am not sure. They are the ones that live in the sweltering volcanic regions. I live in a place that is hot in summer. It is hot till the air conditioner kicks in. I was over-stimulated and was looking for something soothing to calm down and go to bed.

I sighed, and picked up a book from my latest set of creature books. (I need to put up a separate post on them soon)

The Bedtime Book of Nighttime Animals: More Than 100 Creatures Who Come Out to Play When You Go to Bed

Why this strange fascination for creature books?

What is this strange fascination with children’s books on creatures, you ask. To that, I say, if you aren’t reading them, you’re missing out on life. Take for instance this set of books that I have been reading, admiring and glancing through every chance I get. Sometimes, we think being a human is all there is to life. But is it? A book like this is marvelous to imagine all the creatures out and about on Earth just as we tuck ourselves into bed. I felt a pang for the times the children and I would read these kind of books when they were toddlers. So, maybe it is just a little piece of that I cling to when reading these books. 

I know the children as toddlers would have been enthralled by the names of the creatures in this book: Tasmanian devils, roborovski monsters, spinner dolphins, pipstrelles, kakapo, natterjack toad, kuhli loach. If I were a rap singer with any sort of talent, just imagine rapping the names of the creatures who are up at night.

Imagine being a kinkajou?

Still unable to sleep, I sat with a strange urge for a midnight snack and wondered whether to get out of bed, go downstairs, and then decided against it. Now, if I were a kinkajou that would not be a problem at all, would it?

The kinkajous live on trees, and think nothing of hanging from them for a midnight snack. They love to raid beehives for honey, and being nocturnal means that the bees must be in residence when they do so. If that isn’t brave, I don’t what is.

  • Why does the kinkajou not get stung by bees? Because the bees are asleep!
  • And what of blood sugar at night? The kinkajou doesn’t care.

I flipped a few more pages, and there staring at me was the roborovski hamster. It is the smallest and fastest hamster in the world. Why the long name, Roborovski? I think it is brilliant.  “Roborovski hamster – come here this instant!” And he vanishes before you finish calling his name. See? 

As I nodded off to sleep, I couldn’t help thinking of the cute chinchillas who are so smart that when caught by predators, they simply shrug off their fur and take off into the silver night. They manage to sleep during the day in hot volcanic regions, I am sure I should be able to sleep now, I told myself and thought of all the happy creatures sleeping at night and all the ones enjoying themselves in the light of the stars.

🫐 It’s a 🫐 Plum 🫐 Life! 🫐

🫐 It’s Plum Season 🫐

I’ve written about the Joys of Jam Making.  I do love the fruitful camaraderie from plum season.

I waved at the Fed Ex truck driver as he turned into our street. The son said, urgency dripping in his voice, “Quick ma! Now you’ve established contact – you can give him some plums!”

I stared at him.

A beat.

Then. I started laughing.

The wag!

I have been accosting all those who come home with delicious plums, but this felt a bit much. Plum season in our neighborhood arrives with a splash. Suddenly, there are dozens of plums plopping all over the backyard. Ripe, tasty, beautiful plums.

🫐 Plums in a Splash 🫐

I cannot help missing the mater. If she were here, she would be making plum jams, plum chutneys, plum pickles, plum juice, plum rasam till we all heartily felt sick of plums. I myself have been going in and picking up plums by the dozen and bringing them in to share with friends. I can barely understand how quickly the bare tree, bloomed into the prettiest blossoms, and gave in to the light green beautiful leaves before sagging with fruits at every point.

It is a miracle, and yet, every year, I am mesmerized.

One day, I felt three plums hit me from the topmost branch. I was picking those that had fallen, and then realized that these three could have been the handiwork of squirrels. I looked up at them beseechingly. What was the point of all that exciting running around and chasing each other on fences if they weren’t helping out with the plums? As if responding to me, one cheekily stopped and held my stare, as if to say, “I have had my fill. A fella has got to jump and run!”

🫐 Did You Know? 🫐

Fruits arriving in bounty are a blessing. The children, despite my best retreats, continue to resist the lure of fruits. Every year I start it up – each time with a different taste-bud related tip. “Did you know? Your taste buds change over time?”

“Did you know having a fiber-rich helping of fruits helps your gut bacteria?”

“Did you know fruits help make you happier because the gut bacteria love digesting them?”

“Did you know this?”

Or

“Did you know that?”

To which, I also receive a plummy reply, “Did you know we don’t like plums?”

What I did not know until recently, is that not all plums dried become prunes. Of course I had a gooey rotting mess before I learnt that particular fact, but apparently, only a certain variety of European plums can be dried to be preserved as prunes. Oh well.

If I could send some plummy goodness via the internet, I would. But as it is, somethings still require physical proximity. But if you are in the vicinity, please stop by. We’ll have a plum time!

Moon, plum blossoms, this, that, and the day goes

Kobayashi Issa

P & L : Build Your P In Life

Life with Purpose or Passion?

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the pile next to me – I did love this particular selection. For nestling in there were the kind of careers that I had not imagined since being a child myself – A balloonist, giraffologist, naturalist.

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

I picked up the book on Dr Annie and read about how she decided on a lifetime studying giraffes. What remarkable creatures? No wonder it fascinated a young girl all those decades ago when zoos did not have them. World travel and exotic creatures felt almost impossible. She tried studying zoology just so she could learn more about giraffes. But nobody had studied them in any detail.

As I looked at the pictures in the book, Dr Annie came to life again. In her gentle understanding of these creatures in a time when they only graced black-and-white illustrations of some books.

Butterflies open up Etymology

I thought of Maria Sibylla Merian and her love for butterflies in the 18th century. She raised caterpillars and painstakingly drew and described metamorphosis. I am not sure if it was a revolutionary discovery, but it certainly seems to have opened up the world of etymology to the western world.

Sylvia Earle – the oceanographer who spent more than 7000 hours underwater, in a lifelong journey to understand the astounding diversity of life in the marine world.

The fact that these women kept at their areas of passion is inspiring – I wonder what their personalities were like. Beyond the obvious curiosity, intelligence, perseverance etc. What were the forces that shaped them?

Life’s Calling, Yearning or Liking

I remember reading in Stephen Cope’s book, The Great Work Of Your Life – A Guide for the Journey to your True Calling, about Jane Goodall’s mother encouragement when she couldn’t find her daughter one day. She searched for her for 4 hours only to find that the young child had simply been curious to find out about how an egg came to this world. Jane had spent the afternoon in the chicken coop waiting for the hens to lay eggs. Instead of chastising her for it, her mother saw a passion in the young child and nurtured it instead.

I was a little wary of the book when I picked it up. Purpose, and finding your life’s purpose etc were things that had given me enough existential grief over the years. When people told me we each were born with a purpose, I felt a little lost. Like everyone was born with a map( “Here you go – keep it safe and look it up when ever you want!”), just before arriving, and I had missed picking it up – dreaming I suppose.

I feel no great calling to study deer as much as I love gazing at them. I never felt the urgent yearning to study Compiler Design though I thoroughly enjoyed the subject. I did not seem to have that intense humanitarian strain either that came to Mother Teresa in life. In fact, apart from musing and writing about life in general, I am not sure I had any inner force driving my inner purpose etc. All I knew was that I could spend hours in nature and in my own imagination. I liked company, but was also quite capable of amusing myself.

Where did that lead?

I remembered reading Mark Twain’s words:

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

I don’t remember the former, and I am waiting for the latter. I am well aware that I am in the second innings of my life, so I am not sure the realization that Mark Twain had, is coming for me.

What appealed to me more was a concept I read in passing somewhere: Build your purpose.

So while I find it wonderful that for some people their purpose seems apparent to them, and their motivations align beautifully with their life’s journeys, I think that for many of us, the meandering journey is life. The purpose is built along the way. If we can find things to be passionate about, that is great, but it isn’t a given. 

This wasn’t the first time I mused on professions and its link as a means of economic prosperity. If the two weren’t linked. If money was not the primary driver, what kinds of jobs would people choose?

What Would You Do?

I remembered the Elephant Keeper I had met and befriended on a day trip in Ireland. She & I were the only ones who had come without companions on that sight-seeing trip, so we took to talking to each other. It was the most fascinating day-in-the-life I had heard from someone in person. She lived on a farm, worked with elephants, and sent me pictures and videos of the gentle giants in her care. Her love for them evident in each of them.

What would each of you have chosen if livelihoods, and societies weren’t involved in the decision-making? The wackier the jobs the more I’d like to hear them. So, please let me know.

Up to my neck!

The Giraffologist 

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the one in my hands. The first one was about a giraffologist – the title pulling my attention almost immediately. What a delightful sounding profession?

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

The book is based on Dr Annie Innis Dagg who was the world’s first giraffologist. The world’s first primatologist, Dr Jane Goodall, is of course well-known. But Dr Annie, who went to Africa to study her favorite animals, giraffes, just 4 years later is practically unheard of. That is the weird nature of public attention.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/new-heritage-minute-anne-innis-dagg-giraffes-1.7648146

Dr Annie’s life and work was made into a documentary in Canada honoring her work towards preserving these tall creatures.

The daughter’s drawing of a giraffe:

Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants

I was thinking of giraffes and their beautiful necks one day after reading Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants. One section of the book dealt with how prone we are to choke. One particularly sad anecdote about a person who had a gold coin lodged in his throat was especially excruciating. If nothing else, I am glad we now live in a time and age when surgical techniques have come so far from the ones outlined in the book. (The coin only fell out when he was hoisted by his foot and swung like a pendulum. )

Beautiful Necks Everywhere!

Our evolution into bipedalism means that necks took on a truly unique structure to support the head, and provide a forward looking face for navigation. I stopped and chuckled at that. I was on a walk, and just like that, I started noticing necks everywhere. The crane, the gray heron, the hummingbird, the dog, squirrel and the cat.

I got home to look up the giraffe’s neck again.

Did you know that both giraffes and humans have the exact same number of bones in our necks : 7

Yet, the giraffe’s neck supports its long neck, and its heart supports pumping blood all the way up there. All those jokes about tall folks( How’s-the-weather-up-there?) suddenly feels biologically profound.

In any case, the understanding of our biology, our evolution, and our unique places in the planet is shaped by so many factors –  How many giraffes with weird ears and longer tails evolved before the long necked ones that we know and love?

I craned my neck to look at a white egret crook its neck and plunge into the waters with precision and force for its breakfast, and gently massaged my own neck. ‘Up to my neck with worries’ took on a new meaning too, and I hoped giraffes and herons never had to use that phrase, when worried.

Breadwinners order Breadbasket

There is an energy to India that is indescribable. The heat, the rains, the people, the colors, the population, and the conversations. Over time, the nature of these conversations has shifted gently towards aging. All of us are aging, but that means, our parents, uncles, aunts and grandparents are aging too.

Even as we realize aging is coming for us all, it is a humbling experience to see previously bustling energetic authority figures succumb to the frailties of age. The anxiety among the aging is very high. Whether this is a reflection of rapid technological changes, or simply a function of age, I do not know. I don’t have the data to determine whether our grandmothers’ anxieties increased with age as well. It wasn’t something that was acknowledged, much less named and labeled.

Visalam Paati

Appam & Stew

“What are you doing, amma?” I said walking into the kitchen one night.

“Soaking some rice for appam tomorrow – I know you like it.”, she said.

“Hmm..” I said noncommittally. “Don’t worry too much. I am not particular about ..”

“I know you!” She cut me off. “You Americans get by without breakfast, without evening tiffin! We’ll make appam and stew, and I know you will love it!”

Who was I to argue with that? I do love a good appam and stew.

Women who managed careers, homes and children with competence and skill suddenly find themselves paralyzed by whether there is enough milk in the fridge for morning coffee. The certainty of Gopala, the morning milkman, is no longer there. The rhythm of waiting till morning for the milkman is gone. Instead, they find themselves checking obsessively with their children whether the breadbasket order is in.

Swift technology, quick commerce, while making it easier for us, also seems to have contributed to an increase in instant gratification among the elderly.

The Procurement Parrot

Watching the evenings unfold in families where the breadwinners work in multinational companies in India is fascinating. I watch the mother figures peep into the room where the man of the house is taking an international call – possibly the US, given the time-zone difference.

“We need curry leaves.”

The son’s performance is a class in the performing arts. Keeping his eyes trained on the screen, and acting like there is no interruption, there is an intense hand-wave not visible on the screen- signaling, “Shh!”

If you thought that would have her beaten – I show you The Great Indian Mother.

She tries again – this time with the woman of the house, who is in a different room taking a call of her own. She waves her away – with more grace. “Ssh…”

But here, the Indian system knows how to work women. The mother figure is prepared. She passes a note – a list of items that need to be ordered. A quick glance at the list results in:

(1) Either the woman of the house giving in. A pacifying nod to indicate acknowledgment

(2) Or she is sent back to the son’s laptop, with further instructions.

After a few minutes, she emerges victorious with her order of milk, curry leaves, and coriander leaves done.

I smiled at the familiar scene. Professionals in India often have to take calls with their US teams, and this means, that the post-dinner refrigerator audit resulting in last minute calls for curry leaves is often handled by the older / retired grandparents in the house.

“I sound like a parrot with these people – I want curry leaves. Order curry leaves. Did you order curry leaves?” She said, and I felt for her.

Instant Gratification

If instant gratification is a problem among children these days, it is more often a bigger problem among the aging. You see? Previously, they had to wait for their children to go grocery shopping to get curry leaves.

Or better yet, they managed it themselves treating the walk to the market as a little social saunter. They also, somehow, magically managed to make perfectly good dishes without curry leaves if required. Now, however, with the increase in quick commerce, nobody is willing to wait for anything anymore. Compromise seems to be on the decline.

Yes, some dishes taste better when prepared a certain way, but the beauty of home-cooked meals is in the art of adjusting, and creating anyway.

All day long, delivery folks zip by on bikes, delivering this and that to the urban household who is anticipating anything from a watermelon to a stitched blouse from a tailor down the road. Need some fermented batter delivered across the city? There is a fella on a bike willing to come home, collect it, and deliver it across the city for you. The heat doesn’t deter them, the rains barely, the snarling jams part-and-parcel of their days. Mega marts feeding quick commerce – enabling thousands to eke out a living, yes, but it also a reminder that we have forgotten to wait and be patient with our wants and desires.

“While you are having dinner itself, I’ll tell you today.”, she said the next day. ”I can’t have you hissing like cobras in the house when I come around with the list of things to order! We need 4 packets of milk – for payasam (kheer) tomorrow.”

I laughed at the cobra reference and rose to protest that payasam was quite unnecessary, but was silenced with a stare. So, I slurped the stew, and gulped the appam with relish.

“ Is the appam stew good?”, she asked me.

I smiled at the matriarch. “Yes! Fantastic as always, amma.” I said, removing the curry leaves from the stew, and setting it at the corner of my plate, while the breadbasket order for the next day was being filed under her watchful gaze.

Celebrating Earth Day: A Perspective on Time

Google’s Doodle on Earth Day was images of earth scapes, and I remember drifting from there to thinking of the different things Earth represents. Not philosophically, not in a dead-without-planet way, but in a mind’s eye sort of way.

Happy Earth Day! 

Rain, sunshine, rainbows
Lakes, rivers, oceans

Cranes, wrens, ducks
Elephants, horses, leopards

Willows, pines, maples
Hydrangeas, lilies, roses

Snails, caterpillars, worms
Dogs, cats, monkeys

Whales, manta rays, dumbo octopi
Kelp, seagrass, phytoplankton

Snow, sand, silt
Mud, marsh, quicksand

Hurricanes, avalanches, tsunamis
Floods, droughts, famines

Mountains, knolls, ridges
Valleys, trenches, canyons

Leaves, trunks, roots
Petals, flowers, nectar

All blanketed in our beautiful atmosphere
We can either breathe it all in or not think of it at all

It isn’t a very good poem. But it made me think of something my friend once told me when I lamented the state of our beautiful Earth. “The Earth will be fine. The only question is whether we will be fine on Earth.”

Wise words from a wise soul.

Earth will be fine!

I thought of that the other day as the son & I meandered around the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. It really is a marvelous museum. We found ourselves going twice to the Oceans section – The Sant Ocean Hall. There was one particular exhibit showing the range and number of species prior to The Great Dying, and after it all.

I cannot imagine the work that went into designing an exhibit like that. The number of geologists, naturalists, biologists, scientists: and then, the scientific accuracy, the research papers, the peer review. But I stood there taking it in, and really did want to go back to the time before the Great Dying. To see the different kinds of life in the oceans, the sheer enormity of it all compared to what we have now.

To think we live in a time of less than 1/4 the diversity and abundance of life, and it is still so beautiful. I realize human-beings could not have been there – we needed to find our place in the evolutionary queue, and all that. But if there was a way to get a peek, I would take it. Even if just a simulation. How do you simulate more jellyfish varieties, more squid varieties.

Even The Most Imaginative 

I remember one interview I watched of J K Rowling a while ago, in which she attempted to create a new mythical creature, and found after all her thinking, that the creature resembled our planet’s manta rays. Our human imagination, even from arguably one of the most imaginative person on the planet, is still limited. That is the vast expansive nature of the diversity on this Earth.

To think that Earth bounced back from an event like The Great Dying, and is thriving now, is remarkable. To think one species (us) is capable of wreaking havoc on a planet as resilient and marvelous as Earth is also something to think about.

https://ocean.si.edu/through-time/ocean-through-time

It is also amazing to realize that we are but a blip on the planet’s life. All our problems, our wars, our angsts – every thing that means so much to us, is but a blip. We rarely stop to think if what is bothering us now would be a problem for us next week, next year, next decade. Does Earth stop to think whether we will be a problem a few centuries from now, a few millennia, a few eras, a few eons?

It is our beautiful Earth Day, and I am grateful for the rainy day, the sun’s watery rays afterward, and the slowly forming into a sharp and exquisite rainbow.

The Magic of Rain & Light

The past few days have been days of unimaginable beauty in the Bay Area. They have been rainy days. Rainy days in the Bay Area are a different kind of beautiful. For it rains, it pours, it drizzles, it teases, it dances, and it drums and sometimes just goes away. Occasionally, if you are really lucky, you can see a rainbow or two. 

One evening, the son & I wrapped up and went on a walk. It was a windy day, and temperatures tend to dip a bit more than usual on windy days around the time of a sunset. The clouds were so thick and ready for some rains, that we knew we would not be gazing at the sunset exactly. Still, that time of the day seems to beckon one, doesn’t it? Something about it makes it feel sacrosanct. 

Feeling Bubbly?

We chatted about this and that. Mostly of the experiment I had done with the children at the school I had volunteered in. Our experiment with air and whether they have force, culminating in blowing bubbles were a thumping success if the joy, laughter and smiles were anything to go by. We blew small, medium, big and humongous bubbles into the air. It is an amazing feeling when volunteers, teachers & the children have a great time. I told the son as much, and he grinned with what I knew was not just indulgence but genuine happiness for us.

Shining With Divinity?

On the way back, a beautiful trick of the light meant that the world behind us glowed golden through the clouds, while ahead of us, it glowed silver through the clouds. The pair of us stopped our chattering, and smiled together. Both of us stuck trying to find the right word for the light. Maybe even wondering how to catch this moment in a literal bubble. For it was so beautiful. 

“Divine light, huh?”

“Yeah! I don’t think I know exactly what that light is, but this comes closest no?” the son agreed. 

Light is such a beautiful phenomenon. We spend our lives trying to hold it, we have endless literary devices around it (Light at the end of the tunnel, lightness of being, making light of a situation) – But always, it is in a positive light (huh!) 

Rainy days bring out the beautiful potentialities for experiencing light. It can evoke melancholy, gratitude, divinity, surrender, and most importantly awe. 

Rainbows

When the raindrops manage to create total internal refraction, there is nothing but joy, wonder and an overwhelming sense of loving this beautiful Earth with its thin blanket of an atmosphere that allows us to experience rainbows. 

On Sunday night, I snuggled into bed and read heartily the essays on the atmosphere, bubbles and rainbows from the book: The Miraculous from the Material – Understanding the Wonders of Nature – By Alan Lightman.

That seemed like a marvelous way to say goodbye to the rainy week-end. How was your week-end?

Earth From Artemis: Peaceful or Stormy?

Peaceful Earth

In the midst of all the war-mongering and depressing news, the images of our beautiful Earth sent from the Artemis missions has been such a joy. Yes – we have all seen photographs of Earth before -a fact that we seem to so easily take for granted. A hundred years ago, round Earth was a concept for people, not something with photographic evidence. The fact that the Earth is round may be something that whales and migratory birds know innately, but they have never seen the picture of their home beamed to them showing all the beautiful colors it is made up of. 

Reid Wiseman/NASA – This image or video was catalogued by Johnson Space Center of the United States National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) under Photo ID: art002e000192.

In contrast, I saw a documentary with pictures of the storms on Saturns. The video zoomed into the rings that look so beautiful, and explained the violence that created them in the first place. Jupiter’s storms are bigger than our planet, forever raging, forever swirling. 

Why Saturn is The Scariest Planet (It’s Not Peaceful)

Then, we see Earth – its storms metaphorically Saturnian and Jupiterian thanks to political systems the world over, but peaceful looking otherwise. A reminder for what we need to persevere for, and preserve.

The Demons Within

I remember the son & I chatting about space travel in the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum. We had been there after the Holocaust Museum, and I was feeling philosophical: “How could the very species capable of such cruelty also be capable of discovering exoplanets, and work towards energy conservation initiatives such as solar and hydrogen powered solar systems?”

The son looked thoughtful. “You know – sometimes these things are not just in a species – it is in one person. There was this person called Werner von Braun. He was on the team that built the Saturn 5 spacecraft. He was a Nazi and he was not given punishment for his war crimes if he could do this – help NASA build the spacecraft. Did he feel bad? I don’t know.”

I was intrigued. So, I came home and looked him up. 

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/chasing-moon-wernher-von-braun-and-nazis/

Of course, he tried to distance himself from the Nazis claiming to simply be a scientist who would have worked for anyone willing to let him work on machines and space probes. But it wasn’t so. He was an active member of the SS, and when he made references to the concentration camps, it was in vague terms – so he could feign if not ignorance, at least  only faint knowledge. But this too was wrong. 

His reputation did not exactly come out till after his death when another SS officer decided to pull him down too. 

The Moralities of our Lives

The moralities of our lives are shaped early but constantly being questioned. Most of us lead lives of modest impact, and our ability to act, or the failure thereof, usually has impact on few people. However, in dystopian times, both the desire to act and the restraint from acting can both have disastrous consequences, and are somehow more impactful. 

We are living in strange times- I hope it is not as dire as the ones that led to the World Wars, but the technology and warfare we have at our disposal now makes the impact multifold. 

What will the judgement be when history looks back at this period in American and World History? I can almost hear the professorial tones in the books: “This was the beautiful planet they had. They let it slide and be destroyed …”

This Beautiful Earth

All I can think of is, there is a reason the images of our beautiful Earth are being beamed back to us and are surfacing in our public consciousness at this point in time. It is a reminder that we have a duty to perform. Protect a planet from us. 

Reid Wiseman/NASA – This image or video was catalogued by Johnson Space Center of the United States National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) under Photo ID: art002e000192.

So, what do we say ‘Yes’ to? What do we say ‘No’ to? Finally, how to make it matter?