Nature or Nurture?

Today, genetic engineering has verified the long unsupported claim about the genes being the foundations of expression of all of the characters of the organism. It is however also true that influence is also held in matters of expression of those characters by the environmental conditions one grows in. Two homozygotic twins, i. e the siblings with the same genetic makeup will have different characters when they are raised in different surroundings. Therefore, I personally believe that Nurture as well as Nature plays a part in affecting ones character and its expression.

It is well known that the entire genetic makeup of the organism is stored in the form of randomly organised codes-called the genetic codes. Basically, from the colour of your skin to the colour of your eyes, from the way you speak to what behavioural characteristics you display-everything has already been programmed in your genetic makeup. The code; however has been eluding the geneticists for centuries, for it is the most difficult secret code to decipher. It is also known that any sudden change in the basic structural organisation of the genes will result in spontaneously induced mutations. The colour of skin, for instance, has been found to change when the lab rat is exposed to mutagens. The totipotency of the cells has been restored in some reptiles after they have been exposed to X-Rays for some time. Sudden strength, increased vigour, better reflexes are the qualities that have been induced in the organisms through mutation; thus ascertaining the claim for the genes to be the storage unit of the information about the characters of a person.

Two twins born from the same zygote have ditto genetic makeup. However, it is also true that the characters seen in these children in their later life differ from one another, suggesting that the ambience where these children grew up also influences the expression of the characters to a great extent. About two decades ago, researchers in USA performed an experiment in which one of the two homozygotic twins was kept aloof from the world while the other was given a normal life. the first child, secluded from the world, lived in a dark room with no interaction to other human beings except for an occasional cough or sneeze made by the person bringing it food two times a day; the other child lived a normal child’s life. After some years, it was seen that the child that was secluded in a room failed almost entirely to show any signs of civil etiquette characteristic of human beings while the other child grew up into a normal boy. Thus, it was shown scientifically that it is the environment of the organism that greatly influences the character-expression.

Thus, the adage-“the baby’s mind is plastic” is completely true. No matter what is programmed into the baby during the fertilisation process, it is the environment that he grows up in that shapes up its mind. Raising it in a family of loafers will result it also turning into a loafer. An educated family will provide a good ambience for the baby to become interested in learning beginning at an early age. Valmiki, the great sage of the Hindu Rastra, had initially been a crook. He, as a child, had been kidnapped by a gang of gangsters and had grown up to become a crook in the eyes of law. Many great erudite people history often tells us of became so great because they had a good atmosphere when they grew up. Many rogues are from the slums because their families were unable to provide them with proper education and basic necessities. Therefore, a person’s character is best shaped when he is a child and the environment he grows up in influences this to the greatest extent. Keeping the child in a room of hooligans will give you a hooligan, no questions asked.

Freedom to study

We Nepalese are educated under an archaic educational system. The so called educationists in Nepal are unaware that this system would better function if it were displayed in a museum. Our society also functions on that very basis- if you obtain certain specified marks, then you are deemed a good student and otherwise. It is not the content or the quality of the answer that matters, but it is actually the length of the answers you give- notwithstanding what you write in the answer, mind you. Writing about Osama Bin Laden’s assassination in a question about general relativity is a commonplace here, and it is accepted too if the length of the answer is that desired by the teacher.

Here, the people don’t have the liberty to study what they want to study- or that to cease studying when we want to do that. Say a person is very much interested in physical science. The academicians care not where in the boy’s interest lies- he is mandatorily made to study 10 subjects until his class 10, most of which will do him no good later on. And to add to that, he has to study how to get marks rather than how he can amass knowledge. He has to analyse critically how to analyse the pattern of the questions rather than analysing the pattern of answers he has to present to those questions. He is under pressure to score too, and thus has no choice but to memorise the questions. Thus, he fails to understand say integration even though he can do lengthy integrations pretty easily.

After all, social survival is the primary objective of the students here. They understand that life is a race and if they don’t rush, they are bound to be left behind. However, when we compare our education with that of the western nations, we turn green with envy. A future mechanical engineer learning the slokas of the Vedas is a pitiful site indeed. A doctor learning agriculture at high school for instance or a mathematician learning herbal medicine, or a future writer learning home science-these situations may seem absurd to an outsider, but it is a commonplace in our society.

Had we been provided with the opportunity to study what we really liked, our development would have been much faster. A wise man had once said-“Efficiency at doing something comes with experience, experience is derived from interest”.  I never wanted to wake up at 7 every morning and get ready for school, or wear the same dress every day and sit in classes. I didn’t want the dictator of a principal we have here at our school to scold me every day. All I wanted was to study. I didn’t want home-works to do; I do mine myself. All I ever wanted was the freedom to study what I wanted to study. Many of my friends also agree with my philosophy. If I were allowed to add an extra topic to those mentioned by President Roosevelt, I would advocate in favour of “THE FREEDOM TO STUDY”, after which, I believe that all of us here would be content with the Rights guaranteed to us by the constitution.

The Greatest Lesson

My life, as I often tell my friends, is an open book. I have nothing to hide from anybody, nothing to feel ashamed of. I am what I am today not because I always desired to do well in academics, but because my life had been a bumpy ride, and a large bump in that terrain sent me this way. Today, I go around the streets receiving much appreciation. I am what people call a genius or an intellect in its true terms. Mr Omniscient-if you may, that’s what I am today. I am able to add to the discussion going on around me making it worth the while of the discussers to it. I receive phone calls at the middle of the night from people desperately seeking my help in some physics problem they couldn’t solve, or some chemistry mystery that the callers managed to entangle themselves in. Today, I am somebody important. I have matured. Had you asked my teachers before two years what they thought I was going to be twelve years hence; they’d probably have answered ordinary things like “teacher”, “employee” and others. Time alone changes the entire world, doesn’t it? Today, time has changed their words too. Now, the same teachers tell me to aim for NASA, or at the least some space laboratory; the same principal of my school, who didn’t know my name earlier, now recites my example to anyone and everyone who wishes excel in academics. They think that I am capable of achieving the acme of success. They think that I am different from others. But what exactly lies behind these brains, they don’t know that. I am often exaggerated by the people who describe me. They think I am brilliant. I, however, am often reluctant to agree.

Sometimes, I feel that I have become a subject of ebullient exaggeration. My teachers say what they must. Whenever they drag my name to any discussion going on about studies, they garland me with accolades. I feel embarrassed. I got labelled as the “scientist” of my school just for completing a project on Magnetic Levitation and successfully demonstrating it in the form of a Maglev train in front of a large audience on my own when I was in my 10^th standard. I mean, there are people, even some in Nepal who have done much more, like building a solar powered car, or building fuel efficient engines. I know how they work, but they actually built them! I am deeply interested in science, and my syllabus of study outclasses the +2 syllabus we study here by a long shot. I have studied Vector fields, vector calculus, multiple integrations, number theory, quantum mechanics, classical electromagnetic theory, holography and what not. Gravitation and both theories of relativity are like my bread and butter, so high school physics is a piece of cake to me. I love biology. Actually, I love every subject taught at school. I hold detailed knowledge in each of these subjects.  Besides these, I am also a trained computer hardware technician. We do not have any course in our school where foreign languages are taught, so I completed one outside. I have been trained in German Language and am fluent at it. Therefore, in the classes, I am always like “Mam me!” whenever the teachers ask any question. More often than often, I know the answer. So, my friends are often open mouthed when they look at how often I raise my hand. They labelled me “Ph. D”, a pet-name they say defines me completely; again I feel embarrassed at their remarks. Exaggeration again I am subjected to. They exaggerate, I think, because they haven’t met anyone like me. But I know that I shouldn’t be delighted to receive such appreciation; that there are others much better than me. I don’t want to remain the one eye blinded king in the land of the blind. A win by a rat in a race of turtles is not a race worth watching. The race is fun to behold only when the competition is stiff, isn’t it?

One special aspect about me which demarcates me from millions of others who are also exaggerated, I think, includes the things I had to face in my life that landed me in the position I am today. I always loved to compete, unlike now, however, I was not always prepared for it. I was not always the top of my class. I was mediocre student earlier on. Because of my mediocrity and my involvement in other activities besides my school work, I was often the subject of taunts in the class. The teachers often made a field day out of me. Because I was doing all other courses for extra credit and I wasn’t that excellent at my thing, I was slated often. It’s understandable when school bullies taunt you, one can live with that. But, if the teachers begin taunting you, you just lose the sight of what you want to be anymore. You just lose hope. You feel harassed and you become desperate to try and succeed. If you fail at that, then you are the in a fix about hating your teachers taunting you, hating the fact that they are your teachers or hating that you exist and you are in a school where the teachers  don’t know what teaching means. You literally feel that you are the one who is the most unlucky person in the world. I was no better. I then began hanging out with people who felt the same way. After all, birds of same feather flock together.

                Well, my peers at that time constituted of some of the most acrid people one could point out. I hung out and went places with them. They had some really gruesome habits, I however chose abstinence. As the result of my spending more time on hanging business and less time on studying, my grades took a steep dive. I began smoking (smoking by a minor is considered obscene in our society). I even tried opium once. The people who knew me began thinking, “Man, this dude is gone!!”. I also began thinking that I had indeed lost my path. I did get everything a wild teen would have had. All the same, I was not a modal teen that I am now. When I look back upon what I was earlier, I feel that I was a complete mess. I was a phoenix about to die. I didn’t have any hope to survive this terrible phase of my life. Just past my puberty, I was in a state of wild atrocity, and funnily, I was enjoying it.

 One day, my principal caught me smoking red handed. He brought me in and then called my parents. It was a terrible sight to behold. I knew I had wronged my family members. I could feel their plight. My dad’s eyes were furious. My principal looked as if he was on the prowl to kill something. Then he announced abruptly that I was going to be rusticated. For a second there, I was dumbfounded. I hadn’t realised what the consequences to my actions ought to have been before, had I? I had just gone with the flow, the flow of my peers. I then realised something. This was not who I was. I didn’t want to be a wiener for the rest of my life. I didn’t want it to become hazed with smoke, did I? No sir, I didn’t. I didn’t want to be a school drop-out. I wanted to become something in life. I wanted to be respected in the future. I wanted to establish my identity in the society. I couldn’t let it end this way.

I begged the principal to give me another chance. I literally got down on his feet and begged him. If I was rusticated, no other school would again admit me. A desire to study had erupted within me. I wanted to become somebody, I told him. He took pity on me and granted it. I still remember him twitching his moustache telling me that it was all or nothing. If I didn’t show significant improvement in my next examination, he was going to let me go. I took this as a challenge. The fiasco I had rendered that night had somehow changed me. Study, study and study; that was all I began doing. If hard work could cause a school dropout to become a steel industrialist, how difficult would achieving the first position be? I worked day and night, studied everything I could get my hands upon. Finally, the day came when the results of my labours were expected to be out. There it was, my name glistening on the top of the merit list. I had been reborn. I was a nearly failed venture of my parents. Now, I am here at the top of everything I do. I rose to become what I am today from the ashes of my parent’s dreams. I made my life, my stature. If people call me a geek, I tell them that I am one, for I decided to become one. Now, phoenix is my favourite bird; for, it lives its life very much like I lived mine. I never was a graceful unicorn who mesmerised all those that set their eyes upon it. When phoenix grows old and then when it’s the time for it to die, its body turns ignites all of a sudden and it is reduced to ash. Then something magical happens, from the ashes arises a new bird (well, the old bird but with a newer self), as was the case with me.

                Today, my life has brought me to the present platform on which I stand. I was a no body, and I became somebody because of my hard work. I now do not do things spontaneously, I do them with plan.  I know where I want to see myself 10 years hence and am willing to put up as much hard work in it as I can. I have set my goals and am willing to do anything to achieve it. I have faced many hardships in life, after which I now have a clearer picture of the world. I am a different guy in my view point. I aim to be the best and for that aim for the best. I don’t anticipate my life to be a smooth ride. But, now I believe that whatever bad may come my way, I will be able to face it. I wish to inculcate this very lesson to others- life may yield its fruits, as well as its fangs to you. But the thing that should keep you going is hope. You should never lose the sight of who you are. Life may poison your existence, but it is up to you; up to your determination to succeed and your faith in yourself to do something good in life. If you don’t lose the sight of what you are trying to do, then definitely the success will be in your hands. This is the greatest lesson I have learnt in my life and I want to inculcate to others.

I am useless

Am i a human, or a beast who knows only to feed.
Why am i a parasite, why do i suck entities dry?
Where am i human? he wouldnt hurt a fly
Why am i here? what have i done !
But im helpless, these things i must do
Why even my parents, why dont i let them be
I pester them always, never let them at peace
A bike, a car, a cell; greed that drains their banks
I hurt my loved ones, not me; my greed
But i feel guilty, i repent for my misdeeds
These are not crocodile tears, i must make you believe
But from a fly to the sky, its me who makes them cry
But to live i must hurt,
For otherwise, i must die
I am a symbol of pain, of death, of hell
I am a murderer, for without doing so, i cannot survive
Im a sinner, for ive sinned for a long time
But without sins, im somebody redundant
Im somebody, wait a nobody
I mourn for the people i hurt,
But without doing sins, i must die
Without sins, i have no hope to survive.

Where am i, what is my need?

Well I'll Be Damned

 Today I’m here, tomorrow maybe not.
The victories I savored, the losses I got.
Despite these, my life had been futile,
I had been lost, I’d forgotten it all.
All the troubles my parents went through
To get me to the top.
All the sacrifices they made,
The half empty stomachs they kept
The sleepless nights they spent
Only to see me rejuvenated!!!

I forgot my friends, who’d been by me
Throughout my troubles, who’d helped me through
I forgot the tears they endured
When they saw me pained
Impudent I was, when it was my turn
To return their favor, when they were in need
I shunned them aside, paid them no heed
I vied for my goal; looked back no more
However, I forgot they were the last time
But are here no more.

Now I’m tranquil, solemn in my secluded exile
I glance around, not a glance I am returned
I searched success, my search left me alone
I once had the desire to live, now I have none
I don’t know why, but I’m done with this life
I’m done with this world
I feel it’s the time
To return to god

I AM DESTINED

 There are days when gazing up at the stars, I wonder about what I have managed to achieve in my life. Being amongst the better at any activity I take up must mean at least something, shouldn’t it? Mr. Omniscient if you may; that’s what I am, any form of discussion going on around me; I am able to add something worthwhile into it. I receive phone calls at the middle of the night; some desperately seeking my help in some physics problem, or some chemistry mystery that the callers managed to entangle themselves in, while the others being from my competitors checking up on me. I must be somebody, mustn’t I? Some call me a genius, some an intellect in its true terms. Once somebody even sarcastically remarked (I don’t know if it was sarcasm or it was flattery that I then hadn’t beheld), “What you touch literally turns into gold!”

Despite being the SCIENTIST at my school, a name which my fellow students so kindly presented me with when I was at school; or the Ph D of my college (a metaphor my friend used to first describe me when he saw what I was capable of), I still feel the need to hide my face whenever I am addressed by these titles. I’m embarrassed rather at hearing my name being eintraegt (that’s German for exaggerated; I forgot to mention I speak 6 languages); and when I’m brought into every discussion my acquaintances make regarding studies. That’s right, I am pretty damn good at studies; but I pretty much suck at everything else. I am a teenager whose teens have begun to fade away like the sun at dusk, not enjoying mind you, but doing the differential equations of n’th order, or solving integral equations or studying quantum gravitation, or the Cooper effect. Completely missed out on the point of being a teen, haven’t I?

Over many attempts at being a regular teen, I’ve learnt to accept that I can’t be one, for I wasn’t raised to be one. I know for a fact that singing isn’t my thing, my brother keeps on reminding me that he’s heard frogs croak better than when I sing; bless them and their vocal resonators. And I can’t dance. It’s not like I haven’t tried to dance; its just that my back makes creaking sounds whenever I try; if memory serves, I believe my grandfathers old rocking-chair used to do that. Friends I’ve had many, or rather worthy adversaries of my school life. These are the same people whom I looked up to throughout my schooling career, who however never paid me any heed…….. terribly annoyed I used to be then. There is one friend whom I always paid my homage to, I still do in fact; the trouble only being that my respect recipient himself has lost his path. Dreadful the situation around me I see whenever I take time of my not so busy schedule to take a glance around, my friends neck deep in their studies having sleepless nights with only two days to go for the examinations, precisely when, 10 miles from the closest man, I sit around; with nothing better to do then type whatever crap comes into my mind. I don’t regard myself superior to others because of this, which my acquaintances tend to think when they talk to me for a long time, that’s just the way I am. I can’t sing or dance, nor do I know how to party. I remember the fool I made of myself at the PEF Bd course picnic when I attempted to enjoy expressively, however short an attempt it may have been; now I’m continuously trying not to have such a venture again.

It’s not like I don’t enjoy what my friends do, I have the same hormones remember; stimulating the same systems; however I am also blessed~ or rather cursed with the power to restrain myself. There are times when I turn green with envy looking at my friends dancing the entire night; or when they exchange love quotes, hold hands in the class even in front of the teachers and talk soothing words of love to one another. At these times, I feel how nice it would have been had I also had such a “someone” with whom I can also share my thoughts. But the thing is……… finding that someone for me is like looking for a needle in the hay. Its possible one may think, but I don’t mean the regular sized haystack; but rather a barn full of them. I’d love it if somebody would have given me a gift of Lord Ganesh for a valentines day; or if I’d be having a stalker up my tail. However being me does yield its rewards every once in a while. There are also times when I feel that god has created me with love. These are the times when I’m the only one who had answered his teacher and was sitting in the class with pride when his friends are all hiding their faces; or when I am on the top of the merit list. I’m a large bit more oriented to the student side of a teenager’s life you see, while my friends are to the “All fun” ridge. If you’d meet me in person, you’d know that I don’t believe in destiny at all; but here I say so myself, I’m bound by thick paddle-locks to always remain a student, a cage that I’m shunned into, and out of which I can’t get in this lifetime. I am destined.

An (Un)Anticipated Birthday

Its been sixteen years since that day, that lucky day I got a chance to wake up from the abysmal sleep, the day I peeked out from behind the eyebrows and for the first time peered into the great big world. Seventeen years, that’s a long time one might say; the joys of childhood, the recklessness of schools, are all behind me. The ambrosia of joy I once had so much fun tasting, I have lost for ever. The merry of friend-gossiping, the fun during slide playing; now I can never feel them again. I have now lived through a fifth of my life, well almost a fifth, but the fun is all behind me now, stored safely in the chest of memories.

It was fun, no doubt; fun to learn to live life, fun to improve myself subconsciously. It was great fun to play cricket in the rain, fun to race with my friends on a really muddy ground. Fighting with girls over petty matters, well that was ROCKING. I still remember a few of my Girl---Friends and the kind of cat-dog fighting we used to have in class, you heard me—“IN” class, just when the teacher would be teaching in the class. Sometimes it would be about the thing taught, at others it would be about how they looked (Hehe). You can’t believe the points they select when they decide to fight, these girls I tell you; it means WAR. I remember how I once got carried away and really offended one of my former flames, got carried away in the wrath of the fight I should say, and have been regretted that incident ever since.

My life hasn’t been straight, hasn’t flowed through its course like a river; rather it has been like a river meant for rafting where the water flows like it is about to kill or something. People often raise their eyebrows in question or widen their iris in surprise when they find the bastard I can be. My tongue cuts through others sentences like scissors; and once enraged I am often unable to stop in a quarrel, which my friends find strange for a geek. Well, I tell them that I was not always a good student, I have been bad. There were times when I was the friend of the meanest and the worst people civil people would name; only because we had a common interest-basketball. I was never a smoker, but I have been many other things. The people I tell these things to often ponder over my words, and finally laugh; quite annoying really. But I am not going to tell them that, not going to start another fight for no reason at all I am not.

Today was my birthday, and after a 16 year long meditation and philosophical discovery, I learnt to accept that today was just another day, nothing special. When I woke up, I anticipated my parents wishing me, like they had been doing for the past 16 years, before everyone else; just the contrary happened, they forgot. The person who called me always at the first never called. On the basketball court my friends turned out to be the first ones to wish me my birthday. The first three pointer I shot went in, it was a good sign. But, everything I shot later didn’t; guess its one of those days isn’t it?

Except for my parents, and my big-mother, well that’s what I call my mom’s sis, each and everybody of my god forsaken relatives literally forgot that today was my birthday; I was shattered. I was with my maternal uncle the whole day…….even my Grand-mom forgot. I didn’t mind, however; why would I mind, it was just another day, wasn’t it? ….. I was constantly checking facebook, and there were really sweet messages; wishes and birthday greetings. However, I felt that the greetings I got were electronic; one minute it is there and the next  moment, wooosh……. It definitely didn’t beat the handwritten greetings, or the sense of pure feeling conveyed by the words, soothing words in this case( I was shattered, remember). How nice it would have been had anybody called me and told me “happy bday dude”, heavenly!!!!!! (number nahune lai ta fb thikai ho, hunalai ni?)

 Today I realized that birthday was just another day if one didn’t know how to celebrate, or didn’t have people one cares for around him to celebrate with. There is no point in enjoying more on a birthday, or enjoying less for that matter on any other day. Today, I anticipated many things to happen on their own, they did not. It may be a birthday gone to waste, but to me it taught a valuable lesson…ASLI MAJA TO SAB KE SATH AATA HAIN

P.S This blog was written with strong waves of emotion, please consider it as such. I know that the language is not that good.