Author: Swasti Arya

The game is always on for her, just like Sherlock, whom she adores. Though Harry Potter gives the detective a tough competition. An avid reader who prides herself in unraveling the mystery before the final chapter of the book. Her few friends describe her as diligent,trustworthy, amusing and a bit of an introvert. She is eager to explore all unconventional career options in the future. She'd rather have a passport full of stamps than a home full of stuff.She aspires to bloom into a confident adult with the reigns of her destiny in her own hands.

Don’t grow up, it’s a trap. Please mind the gap.

Quarantined

It’s been so long since anything even remotely amusing has happened in my life. Thank you, lockdown. I have no content. I have been thriving on recycled material. Now, I’ve run out of that too. I now find the silliest events funny. Even the silliest non-sensical ones like getting caught in the automatic metro doors when two of your friends couldn’t make the decision to get in or wait for the next one, in time. Result – one friend inside the metro coach; the other on the station. Me, flailing like a bug that has been hit with a swatter, but mind you, the swatter covered only like 20% of the arthropod’s body. Get it? The swatter is a metaphor for the metro doors. To add shame to injury, in the short time interval between that station and the next, I was showered with bamboozled gazes and quirks on how careless a person I was from random strangers. Boy, don’t people like to judge. Time is relative, indeed. The longest it ever took the metro to reach the next station. Why couldn’t they have just laughed at me? Because I was. Laughing. Sometimes, when you see someone fall over, maybe, laughing at them is not such a bad personality trait. SOMETIMES. Can we normalise this? Sincere request from a person who has faced an unusual number of incidents related to metros. I might have fallen face-forward a couple other times.

Seriously, the thing I miss the most in this lockdown is the Delhi metro. It has been a source of endless memories and some really stupid fun times. The Delhi metro cannot be compared to the Lucknow metro. I get the fact that the Lucknow metro has not been around for that long and I am mindful of the ‘glow-up’ journey that it currently is under. See, first and foremost, the construction and operation of the Lucknow metro in itself was off-putting for me because it RUINED the view from my balcony. (Yeah, some other building that have come up in the last few years are also to be blamed.) Earlier I could see the most amazing sunsets from my balcony. Even if it was just over some far-off building but still, it was much better than seeing the sun set over the tin shed structure of a metro station. In addition to that, when the Lucknow metro is actually functioning it looks like its weaving in and out of the buildings that I can see from my balcony, which to be honest looks pretty dope and creates some mesmerising reflections. Also, its location is terribly convenient.

Oh no, I was supposed to be ranting against the Lucknow metro. Right. Okay. So, the actual functioning of the Lucknow metro is terrible in terms of its suspension (if that’s the right word to use here). Abrupt and uncomfortable stops and starting with unpleasant jerks. Moreover, the slow speed (in comparison to the Delhi metro) and brief stops at stations (to make up for the time lost because of slow speed). Should I be writing a letter to the Metro Corporation? But what am I going to say? Please hire better metro operators? I can actually visualise a Metro Corporation official having an extra oily kachori, using my letter as a plate. But wait. That is incorrect. I’ll obviously be mailing the letter. Where was I going with this? Where am I going with my life? No clue. But my companion in these metro adventures, Paridhi summarised our learning is this beautiful desi shayari.

Agar pehle se khadi ho,

To doosri ke liye pratiksha karein

Yaatriyon se anurodh hai, khadi gaadi me na chadein!

Kyuki dibba ruka hoga par darwaaze rukenge nahi,

Tum daudoge tez par poore andar ghusoge nahi.

I Keep Getting Unwanted Pets

Quarantined

People wake up to the sounds of an alarm clock or the cukoo of a hen. I wake up to the sound of pigeons. Tons of them. The guttural incessant ku ku ku of the pigeons combined with the fluttering of their wings. Like a dozen of them. Just outside my window. Senseless creatures going ku ku ku for no apparent reason all day every day. They aren’t like normal birds – heralding dawn and dusk with their melodious chirping. NO. They are worse than crows. At least when you see a dozen crows together you can make a cool comment on how you just saw a murder of crows. (Even though I have just finished watching Killing Eve and I might have higher than normal psychopathic tendencies, but no – I don’t actually mean avicide. Let me clarify with the help of an example- Owls : Parliament :: Crows : Murder) Don’t even get me started on the mess the pigeons make. And I know it’s a low blow, but have you seen pigeon babies? Have you? They are an ugly mess of nasty yellow feathers. Absolutely disgusting to look at.

Over time the pigeons in my building have become dauntless. Now our silly gimmicks don’t scare them away. Banging on the window sills don’t work anymore. Nor does rapid hand gesturing. They hold their fort down even on being shoo-ed. Seeing this, it’s only fair that we up our game too. So, one fine afternoon, the Human, all riled up at a pigeon that won’t stop koo-ing for an hour, decides to have a face off with this said pigeon. Don’t worry. No pigeon (or human) were harmed in the making of this blog. Let’s add a little drama here. What is a good name for a stubborn pigeon? Ted should work just fine.

Ted: (sitting by the window carefree, koo-ing since an hour nonstop) Look, what at we have here? Human decided to finally grow a spine and shoo me away. Well, I ain’t going anywhere.

Human: You have no idea what you’re up against.

Both proceed to have a classic Texas stare down. The way Ted’s flexible neck kept adjusting, pissed off the Human. And this went on for the exact duration it takes to make instant popcorn, which I did. Don’t you judge. This was the most entertaining thing all week.

Human: Enough! I’m gonna throw stuff at this stupid wide-eyed, ball for a neck, creature.

At this point I reminded Human that she couldn’t actually throw things that might hurt Ted. After a mutual agreement, we decided Human will throw small paper balls right next to Ted, just to scare him away, with no intention of ever causing physical harm.

Human: (takes shot 1 and misses by a LARGE gap)

Ted: Am I supposed to take this seriously?

Human: (takes shot 2, better than shot 1)

Ted: Honey, I ain’t scared of a little piece of crumpled paper.

Human: (takes shot 3, 4 and 5)

Ted: Why won’t you give up? Clearly, I ain’t moving from this place. Or wait, are these letters? You don’t suppose we pigeons still act as messengers, do you? Gosh! These movies need to stop portraying us as uber intelligent creatures with a fabulous direction sense. Just last week, cousin Luke flew into a closed window and almost lost a wing.

Human: WHY WON’T YOU LEAVEEEE!

Ted: Dear Jesus. I’ll go, okay? I already have plans with pigeon Bob. We’re gonna go shit on someone’s car. Smell ya later, Human.

Fin.

P.S. If you’re wondering, yes. I wrote the entire thing with the noise of pigeons in the background. Now streaming on Spotify 🙂

Fathers of ‘Eww-genics’

Quarantined

R. A. Fischer and Karl Pearson. Two of the most famous statisticians ever. Fathers of Modern Statistics. These are the gods of statistics. Geniuses. Men from a different age. Every Statistics student has been introduced to these two gentlemen with these exact words. They have devised several fundamental statistical tools, methods and concepts that hold superlative relevance even today. The concepts of design of experiment, f-test, chi-squared test, correlation coefficient and countless others have withstood the test of time. And no doubt these men have carved out a niche for themselves. After all, most of these statistical methods are named after them!

But Statistics isn’t the only field these two have made ripples. The other field is that of Eugenics. Eugenics, in layman’s terms is the belief that only superior races should be allowed to breed. If you sense an undertone of racism, you’re right. It basically was a giant movement of sorts that made contentious efforts to eradicate the Black community in the garb of allowing people belonging to only ‘superior races’ to reproduce. And these two men didn’t just play a tiny role. They were public advocates and oftentimes used Statistics as a way to justify the ideals of Eugenics propaganda. They twisted already known statistics to suite their racist hypotheses. They even developed brand new Statistical methods just to substantiate their claims. The ulterior motive being to put a cap on the fertility rate of ‘non-white’ people.

This discovery came as a shock to me. Hundreds of times have we heard the names, ‘Fischer’ and ‘Pearson’ in countless classes, but never once was this aspect of their lives brought to light in a classroom setting. Had I not happened to read an article on this, I would have never known as I doubt so many Statisticians too don’t! Now, I understand that discussion of history might be out of scope for our regular curriculum classes, but how has there been no mention of it ever? I am no one to judge whether this ‘discovery’ should take away from the ground-breaking scientific work these men have done. Nonetheless, my mind will definitely wander the next time I am taught a new statistical method developed by either of them. I will probably think to myself, “Could eugenics have played a role in the development of this method too?”

Think of it this way, do you still read Harry Potter books or watch the movies with the same enthusiasm now when J. K. Rowling has publicly made homophobic statements and refused to apologize for them?