Should India and Pakistan be proud of Nobel Peace Prize 2014?

Being awarded a Nobel Prize is the biggest form of recognition and appreciation for anyone. The cause of humanity is forwarded by many foot soldiers who work hard so that life on this earth could be better. I am a student of science but I believe that no science can progress without a touch of humanities and thus for me Nobel Peace Prize holds a special status. The Nobel Prize for Peace goes to someone who does an outstanding job in making this place better to live for a life without peace cannot contribute anything worthwhile. This year’s Nobel peace prize was jointly awarded to Malala Yousafzai and Kailash Satyarthi. If you are reading this post then chances are that you already know who Malala is and what has she done to be awarded the most honourable prize on this Earth. Mr. Satyarthi, on the other hand, is a person who has worked hard for years for the cause of abolition of child labour but had never been under the radar of media. I am a big news junkie but had never heard or seen his name in any news. After reading about the work Malala and Kailash have done there is no doubt that they deserved such an honour. Their efforts are worth being appreciated at the highest level. But, should Pakistan (country to which Malala belongs) and India (Kailash is an Indian and works in India) be proud of the achievements of their fellow citizens? Yesterday I saw a picture on twitter where Pakistanis were not only boasting of Nobel prize being awarded to a “Pakistani daughter” but they were also bragging about the counts of muslims who have been awarded the honour. India is also not less gloated about the achievement of Mr Kailash. Thankfully though, his achievement has not yet been coloured with the paints of religion.

I come back to the same question again – despite the outstanding work done by Malala and Kailash and being recognised at the highest level should India and Pakistan be proud of this achievement? I asked this question to myself and my answer is No. I don’t think that Indians and Pakistanis should be proud of their citizens being awarded Nobel Peace Prize. In fact, I feel ashamed. Malala had to take bullet in the head for forwarding a noble cause of educating girls and Mr. Kailash has spent his life saving children who had to burn their childhood slaving to earn money for their families. Had India and Pakistan protected the rights of its children these two personalities would never had to do what they did and would have never been awarded Nobel Peace Prize. An Indian and Pakistani being awarded Nobel Prize for peace simply means that these two countries have serious problems that took extraordinary efforts by some human being to tackle. Other Indians and Pakistanis have failed in their duties to protect the right of their children which is why some individual had to do take up the job. Being an Indian I feel that I failed to fulfill my duty and I am indebted to the likes of Mr Kailash for doing the job that I should have done.

If someone from some country wins a Nobel in science it means that the country has good education system and environment that fosters development of research. This is definitely a recognition of good. Everyone should be happy to know that their country has capabilities to shape talent into useful resources for the welfare of everyone. Nobel peace prize on the other hand is a recognition of chaos in this world and the Nobel peace prize of 2014 is a recognition of some serious issues in India and Pakistan. As a kid I knew many households that had children working from Indian states like Bihar and Odisha. They have to work as much as an adult would but are paid just a fraction of the sum an adult would ask for. Such kids never go to school nor do the ever get time to play. Some are even caned if they are slow with work or cannot not work as per the expectations. Children don’t steal, they don’t run away, they are afraid to disobey orders, and they don’t rape or murder their masters. Children are easier to enslave and thus the business of child labour thrives well in many parts of the World. But, the condition has improved a lot – at least in India. Stricter laws, media campaigns and surprise checks by Govt has put things under better control though there are more miles to cover. Educating a girl child is still a big issue in many parts of the world. In many Asian and African countries girls are not considered as money earners and are just trained to do household chores. The situation is worse in regions with traditional and extremist Islamic beliefs as traditional Islam proscribes women from going out in public and get education, especially non-religious education. Again, situation has improved a lot but many people like Malala still have to endanger their lives everyday to make the lives of other girls better.

I would say that Malala and Mr Kailash deserve all the recognition for the difference they have made in the society and they should be congratulated. But, India and Pakistan being the workplace of these activists have no reason to cheer and should work tirelessly to eliminate the reasons that forced Malala and Kailash to do what they do.

(The picture of Nobel medallion has bee taken from Wikipedia and I do not own the copyrights: The medal design itself is in the public domain in the United States, because it was published before 1923. It remains under copyright in its country of origin (Sweden) until 2037 (the first full year after 70 years following the death of sculptor/engraver Erik Lindberg (1873—1966)). The design is a registered trademark owned by the Nobel Foundation.)

What is apopoetic

My Friends often ask me what does apopoetic even mean. When I started this blog I had named it ‘dreaming biologist’. But I always love to personalize things and make it look more original; which means my blog’s name should also sound original and different. But at that time I could not think of a name that would not only hint at who I am but would also allude to the sort of content that I write. I am an aquatic biologist and this blog is more about my appreciation of things and events around me. I observe events, analyze it philosophically and try to weave them into stories.

Sometime in January 2013, when Canada was all white with snow I wrote a new blog post on love and showed it to a friend. She didn’t comment much on the emotional aspect of the story but was quick to point out that my writings are a bit sciency. I had used some statistical terms and dropped some biological concepts into the story. So, my article was poetic but with a pinch of biology. I am not sure if liked that feedback but I thought I should continue to write in the same style; biology+poetic appreciation of things around me.

I don’t know if you have noticed but I think that most poets are obsessed with love and death. I am not a poet but my thoughts are a bit and even I am not untouched by these two topics. I feel that love is amazing and death is the eternal truth. So, one day while staring at the vast, infinite expanses of snow I was thinking of an amazing cellular process called apoptosis. Every cell in our body has a pre-programmed self destruct function. Any abnormality, internal or external, that goes beyond repair triggers a cascade of suicidal proteins and other molecules which finally cleave the DNA into small bits. DNA gone = game over. So, while thinking on the beauty of this process I stumbled upon this new word that I coined right then. Therfore, the term apopoetic comes from two words; APOPtosis and POETIC. Since this blog is all about musing of life of which death is an integral part and I am a biologist I think the term is apt. I define this term as poetic musings of life.

In love with oblivion

Thank you Facebook for suggesting me some people that I might know. You should know that I recognise most of them. In fact I might even tell you a story or two about them but I am quite sure that if you asked those people if I knew them you would be disappointed. In the last 26 years of my life, since I was born, I have met some amazingly good people. All these people have seen me hiding behind my own arms, observing things from behind my eyelids. I don’t know how do they all manage to do this but whenever I meet these people, I see the imaginary fences of inhibition around me disappear. Though, these people are very few in number and I can easily tell you the count but I would rather not. All these lovely people have been the serendipity of my life. I call them my friends.

My friends love to meet new people and expand their circle. And so that I am not left behind they always make it a point to push me to lower my arms and use them to embrace things and people that I would rather only observe keeping an emotional distance. Over the last 9 months I have tried to change myself. I have forced myself to go to the parties and other social events. Each time I manage to do this I feel a sense of achievement. I have danced, I have been drunk enough to loose my senses. I was amazed when I realised that I was first to approach people and give them a hug at the end of social events. One of those amazing people I talked about was even flabbergasted and said that she never expected that I could do that. Another friend who is now overseas saw me tagged in some pictures on Facebook from the party that I attended two weeks back and said that she was really happy to see me change.  All these people never fail to make me realise how good I am doing with socialising myself. My parents could not be happier, they say.

But, among all this socialising and seeing new people I am missing my best friend. A friend who also, like my other friends, knows that I have inhibitions. But he is the only friend I find hiding with me behind my eye lids. That friend is myself. I feel sorry for failing all those people who have persuaded me till the last moment to see new people. My overseas friend tried her best to leave me with company of friends before she left. She tried for 8 months but I failed her and was left without a friend for next two months after she left. I have failed all my friends in a similar manner always. I somehow retreat back to myself and feel assured that no one is judging me. I can always stop looking outside and tell myself all the stories that I know of things and people around me. I even sing for myself and, to be honest, this post is to pamper that ‘myself’. I think I am too scared of being judged. My life in oblivion has been great. I have spent time with books I wanted to read. I have stared at the nature around me in silence and have yet felt like being in a great conversation. I have observed and experienced things from a distance which now form part of my memories. After all, gathering memories is what life is all about. Different people gather it differently. All that matters at the end is that you have memories to cherish and write about.

I have had terrific summer. I have known more people but I think it is time to slowly retract away from all the humans around me for some time. I am deactivating all my social networking sites at the moment where I rarely find a meaningful and hearty connection with other people. I love living my life in oblivion and that is how I would spend my next few days. Every now and then when I spend some time with myself, I find new things. Recently I realised that I love to cry quietly and laugh aloud when I watch movies. Had I done this with people around me I don’t know how would they react after seeing my cheeks wet but when I am alone I don’t care.

But like all my friends, I know that I need to push myself out of this reticent behaviour and interact. I would certainly do that but only after I pamper myself with my own company for few days because I know I am in love with the oblivious myself.

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In one sentence.

The Dreaming Biologist:

Isn’t it amazing, we all may have an idea of what we want to be but don’t have enough strength to frame it in one simple sentence and say it aloud to the world.

Originally posted on Be the Purple Cow:

Best selling author Dan Pink talks about an interesting trait of great leadership.

Apparently, a young woman in congress in early 1960s asked President John F Kennedy, what he wanted to do for America in ONE SENTENCE.

Just one sentence.

She said, “Lincoln had one sentence, to save the union of states and free the slaves, Franklin Roosevelt had only one sentence, to save America from Great Depression and to win the world war.”

She went on to say, “Mr President, you don’t have a sentence, you have a model paragraph. You are trying to do a hundred different incoherent things.Thereby, you are doing nothing.”

Kennedy was awestruck. He went back to his desk and within some months came back with his greatest goal as a President.

It sounded a little ambitious then but never mind, he pushed the whole human race forward.

He simple said in 1961, “Before…

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My Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

imageI am just done watching third episode of much talked about, modernized, filmed version of Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. Season2 ends with Sherlock dead. I knew this would happen and so would many, who have read the story before. I don’t know why I feel sad seeing him die this time when I already knew he would and the intensity of sadness is as strong as I felt it 13 years back. I have that strong attachment with the character like many had with Harry Potter. One possible reason for this attachment is how I got the book as a kid.

It was for the first time that there was a stall selling books in a local festival fair in my town. This fair had everything to amuse ladies, children and youngsters. Ladies thronged bangle and cosmetics shops, they would bargain household stuff and would only feel satisfied till the seller fell on their feet asking to spare some profit so that he could feed his family, children would be awestruck by the variety of toys and rides, youngsters just had nice time hanging out with friends. But, I was 12 and in that age toys seemed childish, I had no interest in feminine or household items and I always had this handicap of not having enough social skills to make friends. So, the fair was just a disappointment till I found that small tarpaulin tent with smell of paper emanating from it. It was for the first time I had been to a place where they had hundreds of books not prescribed by school curriculum. Why would someone have such a shop in a small, remote village where I lived? I had read some story books before, borrowed from my school library but I really wanted to own some of the books in this shop and not borrow. It was then when I realized that I was very possessive about my books. If I could, I would have bought about 20 books but I didn’t have money to buy even one, especially the one that I really wanted to – “Unabridged works of Sherlock Holmes” by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I would get 10 rupees every day during the fair to have ice cream or some roadside snack and that book was priced 120 rupees. I would visit that stall everyday only to see if that book was still there. I am not sure if I was happy to find it sitting on the shelf unsold. I was perhaps satisfied to see that it was still there and I may buy it someday but the thought of it being still there and my inability to buy it pained me; had it been sold I could have consoled myself. Fair was to last 7 days and all I could afford was to save 70 rupees by the time it ended.

I went to the fair on that last day too, walked into the stall and saw that books were being packed into cartons to be shipped. Shelves had been dismantled. It has been long since then but I still remember the owner of stall. He was middle aged, perhaps late 50’s. Short hair, more grey than black on sides and neatly parted on left. His face slightly broad with loose skin over his cheeks and nose bud marks from reading glasses were easily visible on his nose with swollen nostrils. His eyes had started to develop arcus senilis and had charm that made him look affable. He was sitting on his wooden chair under the October sun. I met him and asked if he wanted to sell that book for cheap. He smiled, looked into my eyes and said that he had notice me come every day in his shop staring at that book but he thought I would never ask. But I did. He said he could sell it for 90 rupees if I wanted to buy. I told him I just had 70 to which he tapped my shoulder and said that people haven’t bought much from him in the fair and he could not afford a loss selling that book below 90 rupees. My shoulders stooped and so did my head for a moment but then rose with a strong breath. I looked back into his eyes asked him to find that book for me from his packages. I ran to see papa sitting in his shop, reading electronic circuits; we had an electronic instrument repair shop. My parents would have easily given me more money had I asked for a book prescribed by my school but they thought that reading stories would distract me from my studies and it was hard to persuade them. I gave him various reasons. I told him how great the author was, knighted by the Queen of England but all that was of no importance to him. For him my focus on my studies was more important than anything else and he made sure that I get the best education possible in that small place where we lived. I was disheartened and pulled out all the money I had saved from my pocket and began folding the notes neatly. My dad saw me. He never said it but I think he realized that a kid had been avoiding temptations to spend money over ice-creams and toys for a story book. He opened his drawer, pulled out a 100 rupee note and happily gave it to me to buy the book. Ha ha ha! I bought the book and rushed straight to eat gol-gappe, a roadside snack that I had been avoiding all these days. Then was an ice-cream cone. I was happy.

The book now sits on a shelf in my room and is my dearest possession. Since then I have bought many books and read them all but I have always tried to avoid temptations to read my Sherlock Holmes. I remember when this book was not mine it attracted me to explore what was in it. And now, when I have it, I want it to have that same attraction and a sense of suspense associated with it so I have deliberately stopped reading it. May be some day……

Creative Routines

The Dreaming Biologist:

I read it 15 years back that never say you don’t have time, Einstein had same 24hrs as you have. Whenever I am overwhelmed with work I tell myself these words and it always works.

Originally posted on Info We Trust:

“We all have the same 24 hours that Beyoncé has” and its various iterations took the web by storm in late 2013 as the megastar became the figurehead of not only having it all, but being able to somehow do it all too.

How do creatives – composers, painters, writers, scientists, philosophers – find the time to produce their opus? Mason Currey investigated the rigid Daily Rituals that hundreds of creatives practiced in order to carve out time, every day, to work their craft. Some kept to the same disciplined regimen for decades while others locked in patterns only while working on specific works.

Creative Routines Poster

There are enough data to visualize a portion of the hundreds of creative lifestyles. Click the poster to discover:
Gustave Flaubert
Ludwig Van Beethoven
W.A. Mozart
Thomas Mann
Sigmund Freud
Immanuel Kant
Maya Angelou
John Milton
Honore de Balzac
Victor Hugo
Charles Dickens
W.H. Auden
Charles Darwin

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Why is reading a research journal better than reading a novel.

Okay, before we begin this I would like to clarify that if you are not a researcher, Fuck off!

Sorry, I am kidding. You are welcome to continue reading. All I wanted to say was that if you are not into research, you probably may not buy my arguments and give negative comments and people into research are already sick of getting counter arguments, negative comments from supervisors, journal editors and reviewers.

Last novel that I read was “Midnight’s Children” by Sulman Rushdie and the one before that was “The Grapes of Wrath” by John Steinbeck. Both books were great. I especially liked Steinbeck’s and could not get over the feel of the book for next three days. But, both these books and many other great works like them are usually bulky. I started them, could not get real hang of things. Discontinued. Restarted and then could not keep them down till the last period. I love reading literary works but I would still prefer to read an research journal. Why? Here are my arguments:

I don’t have time (read I am lazy). I would usually take at least a week to read the whole book and to finally understand who fucked who. But, you take a research journal, begin with counting number of pages it has, then find out number of pages the references make, subtract count of pages with references from total number of pages and finally feel happy that you just read 2/3rd of the paper without actually reading a single word. Yay! what a progress. On the flip side, I would actually have to read the whole novel to be able to say that I actually read it.

There are no spoilers in scientific literature. In fact we love spoilers. Technically, a spoiler in scientific jargon is called an abstract of the paper. Sometimes the title itself narrates the whole story and we love it that way. On the other side, if someone tells you what a novel has in it you would swear to kill him right then. Also, titles of novels are just enticers and I have fallen for them many times only to realise that I was duped. The Grapes of Wrath is mentioned just once in the whole book and it forms the title of the book but it still doesn’t tell you that at the end….(Ha ha ha, I won’t tell you that. Don’t be lazy. Read it yourself).

Great literary works are usually not illustrated but you would rarely find a research journal article without a figure, chart, diagram or a table at least. In fact, highly rated journals prefer researchers provide them with fancy images. Fancier the images or more money it requires to get that image better are your chances being read. I sometimes don’t understand why does a research article need to have sentences when tables, illustrations and flowcharts say everything. After all, we are bu(la)sy.

Ever started a book and then wondered who the hell Joe was? A novel has so many characters that  I sometimes lose their track and have to go back to find out who they were. I would have read the first Harry Potter almost three times if you count number of times I had to go back and re-read the pages to understand if it was Dumbledore who had beard. But, if you are reading a research article chances are that you already know the characters in it. Why on earth would you read a paper on JNK or Heisenberg if you did not know who or what they were? And even if you did not know them it would be mentioned clearly somewhere in short ‘introduction’ or ‘materials and methods’ and you do not actually have to flip tens of pages to find out that fish.  Also, a research paper has very few characters so you would not loose track of them. For example, a paper on effects of metal contamination on fish would have two or three metals, a fish and three or four parameters. Scientists are usually too busy to meddle with more characters (you know what I mean).

You would usually read a book to enjoy it. But, you read a research paper to rip it apart. You are actually checking out what somebody else came up with, find a gap in knowledge and then you ride over his work to create your own with his last name within parenthesis in some line of some paragraph that most of your readers won’t even care to read unless they are really after that author. (Scientific papers usually would not have sentences as long as the one before this).

A research paper is the real explanation why a character in a novel or any other instrument would behave they way they behaved. A psychiatrist would tell you why John Grisham’s lawyer in The Street Lawyer gets into civil litigation and that would be discussed somewhere in some science journal. Umm, I take it that a scientist may not be able to justify the game of quidditch but science made it possible to film it in the movie. So, science wins.

If I need to read a book I might have to shell out at least $10 but to read a research paper all I need is to log on to my University account and download a copy. I don’t pay to read a research paper (I might be indirectly but it doesn’t hurt much).

Finally, if you shift your office or residence, you can easily burn all the printouts of research journals and feel the warmth of science or they might be occupying a tiny space left over by movies and episodes of The Big Bang Theory in your computer hard drive. But, I love to read real printed novels and they have an attached sentimental value. I cannot even see a small blemish or mark on my novels/books. So, read research papers instead and move on.

(N.B. Oh boy! what if you review literature novels? You have nothing to enjoy then. God help you.)

First Kiss video. Why I thought it was cute.

With so much bad happening around us we need something to escape. Something that takes us away from all those negative thoughts and destructive images. A hope that somewhere somebody is happy, if not you. This video on Youtube must have brought smiles to millions of faces as it did to mine.

Here are the reasons why I liked the video

    1. The idea is about love and we all want love to be around us.
    2. They were all strangers. I have been travelling places for last 8 years and have always been taught to not to believe strangers. But, while I have been cheated a few times most of the times people have surprised me with going extra mile to help. In this video almost all kissing pairs felt awkward in the beginning but see the power of love; we all felt that it was nicest thing that happened. I couldn’t find a single kiss in the video that lacked compassion and love. This makes me believe, as I always have, humans inherently want to love and be good.
    3. Video is black and white. I really felt that keeping the video B&W prevented our attention from being diverted from the emotion of love and kiss. Had the video been in colour I might have looking at clothing, colour of the wall, or red lips of the girls being kissed but the colour scheme worked really well.
    4. Idea is simple. Two strangers meet, take their time to accept each other’s presence and kiss. Simple ideas have always had greater impacts on me. Title of the video said ‘First kiss’ and that is what this video was about. Nothing extra nothing less. Plain, simple and straight to heart.
    5. A hope that at least one pair would get married. I shared this video with a friend on Facebook and the first thing she said was that some of them may actually fall in love. I believed that too and so do many people who watched this video and commented. A belief that somebody is happy and has found love is satisfying. We see people suffering around us but knowing somebody found love and peace is so reconciling and satisfying. I really wish some of them found real love in their life.
    6. It was just about people and not about a girl and a boy. There is a gay couple, two girls kissing each other, a young man kissing an older lady. Just about compassion.
    7. They kept it raw. Awkwardness before kissing a complete stranger, participants blushing or the participants trying to hide embarrassment by creating humour kept the video raw and real. As a viewer I felt as if I am right there at the shoot feeling the emotions.
    8. The background song. “We might be dead tomorrow” by Soko sets the perfect mood for the video.


In short: I felt the video was just about something we all seek in life – love.

Why men don’t have to fight to ‘win’ a partner?

survival-of-the-fittest-bob-christopherImagine if men had to fight to ‘win’ a partner. Except humans, males of all other species on this earth have to fight to woo a female. While we can literally see animals battling out each other, plants fight in their own subtle and quite manner. If one closely observes the battle to reproduce then plants are much more brutal; producing toxins to kill other life forms in surrounding, sucking up the nutrients from soil so that no other plant can even germinate and use of animals as agents to pollinate (it is almost like animals are sex slaves). Plants, though silent, use almost every possible thing as vehicle to reproduce. But, strategies to reproduce is not what I mean to discuss here, you may find that in any standard biology text book. What I intend to discuss is a weird question in my mind; “What if men had to fight for a female?”. Another way to look at this question is through a statement that any species as intelligent as humans would never have to fight for a female. Huh! don’t think that just because you are married or have a girlfriend makes you intelligent. Intelligence, here is an attribute of the whole species. So, thank Albert Einstein who elevated the intelligence grade of humans. Back to topic. Nature knew the risks involved in humans fighting to ‘win’ a female and hence made things simpler for us (wish it was simpler, it really takes a lot for guys like me to ask a girl out). So, why don’t we fight to ask a girl to hangout with us? Is there a relation between intelligence and fighting to reproduce? While fight was a way nature devised to pass on the best gene pool which in turn ensures that organisms are always prepared to face challenges thrown on them but had the same strategy, fight to prove might, been used by humans there would have been no life on this planet.

Some ancient men made sharp tools to kill, Colt invented pistol, Kalashnikov gave us the most used rifle, some men in a secret US lab used Einstein’s wisdom to develop atom bomb and some prick found out that hydrogen bomb is best. Men know how to kill. So if every man (some barbarians do fight) had to fight to win a female then imagine the extent of bloodshed. Michelangelo, Picasso, Hemingway, Dickens, ancient Indian and Greek philosophers would have invested their time nuking each other than giving us artistic and philosophical master pieces. There would be a man who in desire of having all females would have killed every other Y chromosome producing organism (did you think Hitler?). Mass destruction and as a result obliteration of all life forms. Nature’s strategy to produce the best to survive would have resulted in it’s biggest disappointment. So, trust nature, your best match would be delivered to you when the right time comes. Use your intelligence for more productive works (swear if you didn’t think of reproduction and if you did then nature triumphs again!).


I could not find an image as fitting  and as lovely as this. The photographer retains the copyright.

My New Year Resolution–Forgive yourself


Every year, on January 1 I make a list of resolutions that I don’t even remember after a couple of months. Perhaps I have been making same resolutions every year. So, this time I decided not to have any resolution and planned a movie night with a friend instead. The movie was “New Year’s Eve”. There is a moment in the movie where a giant ball at New York’s Time Square gets stuck during it’s ascent before it has to fall at midnight. While the ball is stuck midway there is a short speech by manager of the event relating pause in ball’s ascent to the moment where we should stop too and reflect upon the events that occured in the year gone by. Taking that to my personal level I didnt have to stop to think what happend to me in 2013 but I needed a solution to prevent 2013 ruining my 2014. And from this thought arose my new year’s resolution.

The year 2013 had been the most testing of years till now. I failed at the crucial moments and took some decisions steering my life in an entirely wrong direction. I am not known by people, who know me, to fail and to take bad decisions. But, I failed and ended up in a very miserable situation that would have repercussions, good or bad, all through my life. I have been left behind professionally by all my friends just because of my arrogance and the confidence of being infallible. I had almost stopped thinking myself as a human being; I would work by the clock. I had fixed times to eat, kept and met strict deadlines for everything, I had succeeded in all the examinations that I appeared for in last seven years. My resume was crisp but facebook timeline sucked. But in 2013 every thing started to fall apart like a house of cards. Nothing seemed to be in my control. And I did what I had been doing all these years – I pushed myself harder. The harder I tried the painful was the failure. Over the years I have learned to forgive everyone except myself and that was my recipe of success. I did not forgive myself for my failures and consequently began to hate myself.

But I have learnt from my mistakes. I have learnt that I am just another human who can fail any moment. I have learnt that even science believes in the concept of probability and has confidence intervals for all the scientific decisions. And so should I believe. I have learnt that there is always a probability that I can break down any moment, the way I did in one of the most crucial exams last year and no one could be punished for it; not even I. I have realised that my family and friends have forgiven me for my mistakes always but it was always I who kept punishing myself.

So, the time to make a tough resolution this year – forgive myself. I am going to take my life lighter and forgive myself for what all happened last year. Yes, forgiveness has a magic; I can feel it now. I can feel my heart beating and the air in my lungs getting lighter. My sight gets blurred – but yes, I forgive myself to be weak and cry sometimes.