Egotism ....a lifelong romance

Sunday, October 19, 2003

Getting RNA-logical

[And that’s my second oxy-moron so far, cos RNAs, believe me, have no logic. I am waiting for someone to start an RNA Renaissance, and I must say (proudly) that with my relentless battle with my tube of RNA, I have indeed successfully managed to a instigate 'cold' war of some sort].

Hmmmmm....I went through my blog just now and hell, am I ashamed of myself.....I realized I am not behaving like a scientist AT ALL ! I write three essays and there's not a single scientific word...unless ofcourse you consider "asthmatic" and uhmmm, well, gravity and friction and air drag....that's quite a few....let me put it this way—there’s not a single scientific word in the right context....

So, I decided I needed to devote one blog to science....or atleast to "Whatever i (supposedly) do for ten hours everyday and that earns me my bread (it's weird that my entire life's earning is captioned thus--I mean, after all, a loaf of bread costs one buck.. You might as well give me that one buck to discontinue writing my blog)"

Okay, so getting to the point here, I realized a week ago that my whole lab is on my side, though I can't say the same about science...yeah, my entire lab empathizes with me cos my RNA (expansion: Routinely Not Available) just wouldn’t express and they know I am workin my ass off for it...here's a little note for you laymen out there----first of all, the scientific expansion for RNA is RiboNucleic Acid, though that doesn’t always apply; what ALWAYS applies is 'Routinely Not Available' (and I have unshakeable proof of this), but the scientific community (warped as it is) wouldn't take my suggestion.

Anyway, so RNases, apparently, are very different from RNAs, in that, they are ALWAYS available and EVERYWHERE...RNAses eat RNAs by the way (scientific lesson # 1: add "ase" and you get a predator). Hmmmm, so that's the reason why RNA is routinely not available--- cos RNAses are everywhere---- the palms of your hands, the benchtop, on the lid of the centrifuge, in the tube that has your RNA, the water, the air and practically EVERYwhere).

That is exactly the reason why, last week, when I went strutting about the lab in RNA-less agony, I had the luxury of listening to tales of how long each one in the lab had to wait to express their maiden RNA..... Phew! Was that encouraging or what! So, bottomline: I'd rather have my lab empathize with me and listen to all those stories than have my RNA up and running, really...who cares for that little black band on an X-ray film, anyway...I can think of a zillion ways of generating that (actually, I can't but I am sure if I went to the experts they could give me a zillion ideas).

Well, and as fate would have it, exactly when i DON'T want something, i get it! yep! Reversal of history! My RNA expressed! A shitload ....turns out, I was using dirty water. Note: there is absolutely NO WAY that dirty water can enter an RNA lab...it's blasphemy. (Courtesy: Dr. Jeff Wilusz, reference: Methods. 1999 Jan;17(1):21-7).

But as with science of any form, shape or nature, happiness is transient....yeah, I DID get happy eventually, I am learning to behave like a true scientist..... and just when I stole myself to get happy, my RNA wouldn't turn over! for the non-scientifics out there (including myself) turn over is "degradation" ...yeah, i am studying RNA degradation.... funny that I spend an entire year trying to make RNA only to "want" it to degrade to shit! DUH! scientists....they don’t make any sense whatsoever....the only thing that makes worse sense than scientists is their science...

anyway, so, point: now my RNA doesn’t turn over... and I betcha if there is ONE smart person out there among my readers (chances of that happening are exactly 2 in 1000000000000000), you'd be able to suggest that all I need to do is dump in some RNase (‘some’ here equals 2 in 1000000000000000 of a microliter by the way) and bingo, my RNA would degrade! But that is EXACTLY what my boss doesn’t want ! get it? scientists are funny......you have a zillion milli-molecules of stuff floating all around that can get you the job done and you don’t want that ....you want to do stuff the hard way...did I mention that I add RNAse inhibitor in my tubes to actually prevent RNAs from getting degraded?

Uh, well, I guess I’ll stop before I begin to completely realize the futility of my efforts ...

And I hope at least one of you out there is compassionate enough to one day walk into my lab (1300, Center Ave., room B325, Ft.Collins, CO, USA) and dump some RNase from your dirty fingers into the tube that contains my RNA.....

I couldn’t do it cos it would go against all the norms of being a true scientist (norm#1 being ‘make life as much harder for yourself as you can’).

Sunday, October 05, 2003

Learning to greet Uncle Sam

I am all set to go to India in December....
On second thoughts, am I?, I ask myself ...
Ofcourse! A new credit card with a 2000 $ limit just landed in the mail box and I almost have my tickets confirmed. What’re you talkin’ about?!!
Yeah, yeah, but do you still say “talkin”?
Uh, well, yes.
Do you still smile at that stranger across the street?
Yes. :(....
Do you still thank the bus operator before getting off?
*sigh* Yes.
Do you still keep your teeth and your tongue in tight check when the shop attendant takes an interminable ten minutes to bill you?
YES!
All set? Think again!


While I’m in the process of un-learning savoir-faire in preparation for my impending trip, I might as well try and recall how I learnt it in the first place....

Hmmm.......it’s not everyday that you land in the richest country in the world and receive a greeting from a stranger like he hasn’t seen you in years. Well, you’ve never ever seen a stranger in years, but considering the trials and tribulations of an artless Indian trying to handle the white sociability (or was it supremacy?) is bewildering enough, I’ll reserve that for another day.

The sprawling Boston Logan Airport, the series of tall buildings in the city’s skyline, the myriad number of lanes and terminals did not overwhelm me as much as the tiny little man at the end of the concourse and more so, his cheery How do you do.

Hailing from a country where even a ‘hi’ from a stranger is considered taboo, ‘how do you do’ happened to be one word too many! So I decided to contest it by rattling off my medical history to the flight attendant, whose only fault, I agree today (after a lot of contemplation), was being nice and friendly, just like an average American is expected to. I have never been gladder for my myopia, which rendered me blissfully oblivious to the amused ever-so-slight raising of his eyebrows. Oh yes, loud as the greetings are, the sarcasm is but subtle.

I learnt the long and hard way that the How do you do and take care stemmed more from years of polite upbringing than any real interest in a saga of my health record. Within weeks following my entry, I had learnt that the more appropriate response was ‘Good’ (and this did not change if you had just been fired from your job or given the final cold shoulder by the love of your life), followed by a prompt enquiry in reciprocation, accompanied by the best smile any given circumstance would allow.

Having learnt that, I soon found myself incurably absorbed in the intricacies and nuances of conventional decorum. Calling out ‘good’ followed by the customary ‘how are you’ and then responding politely, all within the time span of a few seconds, which is how long it takes two humans to pass each other (given the gravity, friction and air drag at any time) proved tougher than I’d imagined.

Putting creativity and diligence to work, I figured the best way to achieve this was to jump the gun. So, instead of waiting for my relatively nonchalant acquaintance to do the honors, I decided it was easier to be the first one to call out the greeting. In my anxiety to get the whole charade over with (within earshot of each other), I found myself shouting out the ‘hi’ even before my associate had noticed me (Whoever said light traveled faster than sound?). It took a lot of long hard math and a fair amount of trial and error to decide on the starting point (both temporally and spatially).

A few problems I encountered were the inherent inconsistencies within the system-- for example, sense of hearing, sight and gait. There were some ethical issues involved as well---I began to discover the gory details of my associates’ medical problems— some had better hearing in their left ear than their right, a few were astigmatic and others had flat feet. So much for genetics----all you needed to discover one’s ailments was to say a hello to somebody! Americans and their meandering ways..... I still prefer the straightforward Indian method of rattling it all out, though.

Two years in this country hasn’t brought me any closer to determining appropriate conduct, but in retrospect, I think, for all its forthrightness, the hostile push I used to get so generously in a Mumbai train made me no happier than the rather specious yankee greeting (which indeed does manage to pep me up consistently).

[Besides, they say it takes anywhere between 5 and 53 muscles to smile; pray, how can THAT be skin-deep? Now, exactly what WAS my point?]