Bobbing my head on a religious journey.

        I'm a Hindu by birth and have a very pious family, save for me. My way of looking at religion, be it mine or others' has always been my own. I believe every religion to be a path to God, of whom I believe there is only one form: nothingness that encompasses everything. And at the same time is of more than one form, because there are so many religions that claim their god is the only one. I digress; this isn't about my views on religion but on my own 'religious tryst', rather.

        In my state there are quite a lot of temples, out of which the most famous is that of Lord Venkateshwara atop Tirumala, better known as the temple of Tirupati Balaji. If there is any temple which comes second in fame after the above, I believe it has to be that of Lord Shri Ram at Bhadrachalam. Since I was a kid I'd always wanted to visit three temples more than any others. And not because of their religious fame but for their place in my mind as places of mythological significance. I've only been able to visit one from Bhadrachalam, Antarvedi and Mantralayam so will share with you guys how that went.

        Of all the many friends I have, the oldest and my best friend is one Mr. Sitaram Veeramreddy, whom I've known since I was about 8 years old. We've known each other for around 17 years now and have been nothing but the thickest friends all this while. I'd planned a journey to the Shri Rama temple in Bhadrachalam previously too; once after my 10th class finals were done (end of high school), once after y 10+2, and many times during my B.Tech. It was always with Sitaram that I'd planned to go visit this place. I don't know why, but I'd decided it had to be with him; it was probably because he was the one who was around and agreed when I first had the idea 10 years ago. We both thought the same thing once we set out on our journey; 'This has been a little too long put off!'

        I'd returned from the UK after my masters and it had been 4 months since. In the year I'd been out of the country, my friend had started working for the government and was doing well. I brought up the long put off idea up and he too was excited. "Dude, this time we are going to Bhadrachalam for sure!" "I'll plan within a week and let you know." "No man, I've got this covered. We'll plan it for the weekend following the Republic Day. That way I won't have to worry about using my leaves at work." "Alright, let me know." And just like that he got everything sorted out. We both stay in different cities but luckily the place from where we'd have to leave for Bhadrachalam was more of a halfway point for us both.

        I'd gotten a little idea and advice from my folks who'd been on this journey previously. I had a picture in my mind of what to expect but decided not to spoil the surprise by over-analyzing things. We met up at Rajahmundry and I asked him "How long is the bus journey for?" dryly. I had little love for buses; they made me travel-sick. "Bus? We ain't taking no bus. We are going by boat." "Sorry what?" "Yes. It's a boat ride for most part. And then a bus, but just for a little distance." Now this was something I was hoping would come to fruition. I knew about the boat route but was worried he'd plan it differently because it was summer. But no, boat ride it was going to be and something I'd always remember.

        It was 7 in the morning and the sun was already beginning to drop hints of how hot the day would be. Normally we'd both complain about the heat and stuff but that day we were so truly psyched about this trip. The boat started at about 8 and it was quite the event. The guide giving us accounts of a lot of places on the way which had their place in history. One noteworthy one was the story of a freedom fighter Alluri Sitaramaraju, a revolutionary termed "Manyam Veerudu" (hero of the forest). Alluri Sitaramaraju was a guerrilla warrior who fought against the British oppression in pre-independence India and a legend who's life has been told in many forms and many times. The places where the police stations and post offices he'd attacked during his time were shown, and we could not but get goosebumps as to what we were experiencing. There was a story told to us, of which I will give but a brief gist.

        Apparently Alluri Sitaramaraju had given a sort of an ultimatum to the authority of a police station of then that he'd attack his police station and raze it to the ground for his atrocities. But in reality he'd done the same to about 3 other police stations. The personnel were on high alert to capture and end the great man when he attacked, unaware that he'd planned the same with other police stations to which they'd sent for help. And when the announced time came, the man was seen fighting on all four fronts one after the other, decimating his foes. The guide, of whom I have quire a respectable opinion, had a sense of strong not to mention over-flowing pride when he narrated this tale. "This is where the British felt the wrath of a Telugu man. This is where they feared him. This is where they fled before him. This is where they fell before him. This is where the great man once walked." Goosebumps and speechlessness. Me and my friend who were chatterboxes and always had something to say to everything, were rendered speechless.

        Then we passed through an area called 'Paapikondalu'. The boat containing all of us tourists passed through between two hills of which one had its peaks resembling the face of Lord Vishnu, the original form of Lord Rama looking upwards as seen from a side. I've always looked to Lord Rama not as a god but as a man who set an example of a man who stood by his rules, come what may. "Okka maata, Okka baanam" - One word, One arrow. This was Lord Rama's motto. Though he is a form of Lord Vishnu who'd taken birth to eradicate evil, Lord Rama can be easily said to be the most human of all of Lord Vishnu's forms. The level of emotional and ethical deliverance Lord Rama is put through sends us all one clear message- "Life hits hard, whoever you are."

         Through the course of the day on the boat, the guide told us a lot of things. About the surrounding places, those places' troubles how many good samaritan helped them, the story of how the Bhadrachalam temple was built, and above the story of Lord Rama which we'd all heard from the Ramayana a lot of times since childhood. Out of the many many gods my religion has, I've always had devotion only a few, Lord Rama being one of them. Being in such a serene atmosphere that day, I couldn't help but notice how peaceful I felt, accepting for once that there was a higher power which oversees us and looks after us. I like to believe that there is a god, indeed, but I do not buy the stuff preached by 'god men' or in most false places of worship. I believe that the concept of 'God' was originally created long before affirmed so as to give people an eternal source of hope. A sign of comfort.

        But then, it hit me. Such a pure concept has been turned into a money making idea by some today. Why must man keep pushing? Why can't be accept that somethings aren't to be trifled with? I do not intend to preach about God, no way. For what its worth, I'm only a quasi believer so to speak. I just wish people would stop twisting the concept of God and the purpose for which it was originally accepted. One day, I intend to go back to Bhadrachalam, not as a psyched up kid but as a wiser human willing accept more of what God has to offer.

A Scien'tryst'.

        The last semester of Under-graduation. Reality checks. Future plans. Tear-filled goodbyes. Interviews. And above all, the final thesis and dissertation work which counts for a lot on the grade card. Most of the students carry out their projects in their university under one of their professors. But some go out; be it in private enterprises or government labs or such. Everyone has their own mental image of what they want to work on or whom with or how. That is the beauty of science, to root itself into even the most disinterested of minds and nag at it to do something.

          I too wanted to do my project in a big fancy lab abroad through a student exchange program, but it was not to be. I had gotten myself into a bit of situation, neglecting my studies in the previous semesters and had to now remedy it. I was worried as to how I'd be able to do a good project if I was saddled with other subjects, and under which professor. And then my friends suggested we talk to their Molecular Biology professor whom they highly exalted, basing the manner of instruction they received from him. He was everything my friends had made him out to be, an intelligent man who was willing to let us work on our idea as long as we did gave our sincere effort. And he introduced us to his two PhD students who'd be overseeing us. They in all actuality were the reason our project came out as well as it did.

         I had always been a fan of the Scientific American magazine, thanks to my science savvy father. I'd done more than a few assignments using the information from those magazines. When our guide asked us to come up with topics we'd like to work on, I looked to Sci-Am again and it did not disappoint. Out of the three topics I'd chosen, two were from the magazine and one was my own. Our supervisor made out the one I had come up with to be the most appropriate and useful one to our educational level and technological availability. And we were given a month's time to study before the work started.

        That was the first time I'd ever worked on my own idea and was both excited and scared at the same time. But my best friend who was working on a different project was in the same lab and I was a little at ease thanks to him. We started at the basics, sub-culturing the micro organism which we'd use, from its parent culture. I almost got the parent culture contaminated. "On the first day itself? Oh, come on!" I was always a bit of  a klutz but this was too much to take even for me. Luckily the PhD students who were overseeing us made sure the situation did not go out of hand and everything came down to normal. I'd begun thinking, "If I can't even handle something like streaking a parent culture, do I really belong in this field?" It was probably a bit of an over reaction but I'd always prided myself in my ability to think, reason and carry out things that were expected of me well. I talked about my conundrum to the PhD students overseeing us, and they said just one thing which I relate to even today; "Everyone makes mistakes. If mistakes weren't around, how'd you know what not to do?"

        Determined to make a wonder out of my research idea, I kept working hard. The PhD students were always around help us out, no matter how banal our doubts or how stupid our mistakes. I look up to them to even today, wondering how they could stand someone who had doubts about every teeny tiny detail, literally. This project also gave me something else; someone, rather. I made a friend out of another student of my degree, also working under the same professor as me. And if I may say so, this person has changed me a lot. Both as a student and a person, I learnt so much from my new friend. I finally knew how to make friends and on a seriously corny note, I could use some. I had quite a few friends by the time I left undergrad as opposed to how I'd spent 3 out of the 4 years mostly alone and on my computer.

        I kept pushing my research forward, no matter how many times I failed. The PhD students too appreciated my efforts, realizing I was just a not so intelligent kid, trying hard to make up for his intellectual shortcomings with effort. And I finally hit my target. My professor from whom we'd had to get our reports checked before submitting appreciated my work. My results were actually validated! I was on cloud 9! Sir and the PhD students were the brains behind my wonderful thesis for most parts but I can proudly claim that the very first research idea I developed was, if I may say so 'A grand success', given the scale on which it was performed and with the objectives we'd hoped to achieve, nonetheless.

        This period of time taught me something; If you don't dare to make mistakes, be it knowingly or otherwise, it means you don't care enough to learn. And I personally benefited quite a lot from this piece of wisdom. I haven't been one to listen to advice from others. I do things my own way. I make mistakes. I fall flat on my face. And I learn. And I never make the same mistake twice. I never have and thanks to my friends and peers, hopefully never will. Finally, I say this "Science isn't made by the one right answer, but rather the forty one wrong ones". Work, work till you get your results. Or your mistakes are good enough to be learnt from by those around and you.