I don't know why but this story about a 10-year-old boy in Japan corresponding with this famous American entomologist to research memory in caterpillars caught my attention. So much so I listened to this longish podcast on the whole thing. I am normally interested in abstract ideas rather than natural facts. But there was something about this particular study, not to mention the human connection between two such diverse individuals, that I wanted to know more. I suspect part of it is the very idea of 'memory' in bugs... which opens the door to so many other ideas.

The long and the short of it, in rather simple more than accurate terms, is that this boy with the help of this entomologist designed an experiment where caterpillars learnt to associate a mild shock with the smell of lavender oil. When the caterpillars metamorphosed into butterflies—which apparently transforms them into a completely new being—they still showed an aversion to the lavender oil. Which means that at some level they retained a memory of their former aversion even though in the intermediate stage of their life their entire body had dissolved and regrown pretty much. To me the more extraordinary part was the next stage of this study. The boy then found that even the butterflies’ offspring showed a similar aversion to lavender oil, even though they had never been rendered a shock at all! I am not too sure if this second stage study got published or how that progressed.

Needless to say, I feel a bit mind-blown by all this. I wonder if such a tiny simple creature can carry a painful memory across regeneration and intergeneration, then how must it be for humans...? How much more powerful and sticky memory must be... how much of our resistances and intuitions must be from experiences we might never even have had first-hand? That we cannot even excavate no matter how far back we go? Fascinating, isn’t it?!

There were some ethical aspects of the study that made me a bit uncomfortable. Like when the entomologist said that there are no standard protocols as such for administering shocks to invertebrates or something like that. And scientists are free to choose their own protocols to inflict minimum harm. After learning about how these tiny things carried memories of shocks, it made me think about how we treat other creatures as means to an end... creatures who feel pain, who remember it at some deep molecular or cellular level... the podcast narrator, who is the entomologist’s daughter, said something about how scientists are told not to anthropomorphize other creatures but that the Japanese boy designed his study in a more humane way compared to the American scientist because he did not follow that rule. It was because he sensed that the caterpillars recognized him when they turned into butterflies that he was even led to the question of memory in them... Ascribing human qualities drove rather than hindered his curiosity and care…

What is the feeling of absence...?

at first

it is a tremendous wave

that threatens to swallow you whole

a strong aftertaste

that keeps lingering on and on

nothing tastes of it...

with time it is

a gesture or word

which reminds you

of another

but so much another 

as if of a different world 

was anything real?

now it is the sudden quickness of breath

when I walk quietly down a street

lost in my usual reveries

stringing together ideas

for a new piece of work or an evening meal

wait, did i see a familiar face?

no...

my eyesight isn't great

and glasses irritate my skin

i peer a bit more

not anyone I know

but i have come unravelled in an instant

it was absence

again

hiding in a corner

jumping on me

playing its little tricks

like a friend now almost

i might not even recognise

its twin

presence

anymore...

~Me

Some comedian was talking about how he never realised towels were meant to be 'soft'. Growing up in a poor household, for him towels were things that lasted years and obviously they would become quite rough. When he was given a soft towel at a friend's house, he was confused. He was so used to the roughness!

This made me think about my towels and how soft/rough they are. My own philosophy is that if a thing is still doing what it's supposed to do, don't change it. The idea of disposing of something that still has use left is painful to me. I can't bear that kind of wastage. It's a bit different with clothes where you can have a lot of variety and don't really need to dump some to use more. You can also always give them away to charity or something, so it doesn't feel like you are wasting good stuff. With certain other things like towels or utensils or blankets or stuff that you'd have to actually put in the bin if you wish to discontinue, I tend to hold on quite a bit. I guess I also sort of have an attachment to certain items — my last post about the image and rosary might have indicated that. It doesn't matter how old some things are, the older they are, the more attached I am...! he he! I suppose that's part of my upbringing as well where we had one thing and had to stick with it. Those habits haven't died even though I don't have to continue with some of them. I don't even realise they are specific to me until it's brought to my attention in some way, like this comedian talking about towels. I had never thought about the softness of my towels!

Sometimes my mind goes back to parts of my childhood. It was another world altogether. I feel a longing for some bits of that world, bits of simplicity. I remember how my mom used to store certain items that my relatives brought for us as gifts from 'the gulf'. They were special items, not to be used in everyday, normal life. There was a lot of fancy cutlery in there while we used steel plates and tumblers on a normal basis. Most houses in Mangalore only use steel ones on the daily so that made sense. But those fancy things just stayed there, year on year on year, inside the ottoman bed. At some point they were things we thought of as stuff that were only there to be looked at. I don't think we ever entertained the idea of using them. I remember on dull evenings—this being before the internet, smart phones, etc—I would get my mom to open the ottoman so we could browse through all the stuff. There were fancy sarees there too and I loved looking at all the beautiful things... Kind of makes me think that I carry a bit of that hoarder in me now. I love storing beautiful stuff and looking at them from time to time. I have to remind myself to use them too once in a while. A lot of those things in the ottoman never got used. I don't even know what happened to most of it. We eventually got a lot of better things than those so maybe they never saw the light of day. But I guess they did serve a different function even if not their assigned one. They brought a bit of beauty and joy to our lives when we needed it...

I visited St Paul's Cathedral in London. It may be apparent by now that I tend to look for a larger design in the most ordinary of events, have a hankering for serendipity etc. I had not planned to go to the cathedral specifically on Sunday. It happened to be Sunday. I also sort of just left my room randomly at 2.30 pm. I was expecting to just potter around a bit when I got there and then take the path towards the Tate Modern. It turned out that I reached right in time for the 3.00 pm evensong. People were lining up to go in and so did I. It was a lovely experience just soaking in the atmosphere. My mind obviously wandered as it always does. And for some reason I started thinking about this incident in 2022. I was to move from my shared student accommodation to a staff flat on campus. I rarely forget my things. But on this occasion, I forgot a small pic of Mother Mary with a rosary over it that was placed on my window sill. An awkward location. I remembered this slip after a day or two but by then I couldn't trace it. I felt very bad... I felt like I lost something very precious and I have not been able to forget it, even though I found a new (not as elegant) pic and a rosary...

The next day I visited the National Gallery. I was browsing through those cards with artwork on them. And right before me was a beautiful one of Mother Mary. It was as if I was meant to have it. My new house seems a bit more homely with it...

I have in many posts over the years mentioned my ambivalence around the question of God. This preoccupation with an "image" or even a piece of cardboard in a sense may strike as odd. I can't say I can explain it except to say that not everything can be or needs to be explained. It can simply be felt. Why does a piece of music elevate one or why does a beautiful flower give us delight? No explanation can communicate what can only really be felt.

So I am back in London for a conference. This time I am hoping to catch some leisure activities that I didn’t last time what with the intense focus on furniture buying. I might still pay a visit to the John Lewis furniture floor. As I was joking to a colleague the other day, it’s probably going to be a Mecca of sorts for me ;) But I have very few days and there are too many things to do in London. It is not even a full day 1 today and I have already visited Drummond Street.

I did not know of the existence of this Indian food street. It seems to me that where I stay usually tends to influence some of the places I see; some, not all because mostly one goes to the centre wherever one might be staying. Last time I was in Fulham and I did catch a bit of Kensington, Chelsea, King’s road etc that I have never done before. This time I am right opposite Euston and this Drummond Street happens to be right around the corner. I suppose if I was in Fulham I would have had to schedule the street around other things in this direction, but I could just walk down today when I was too tired to do anything else. I was rewarded. This is the first time after getting back from home that I have had “chaat”. Chaat is more of a North Indian category though having grown up in Mumbai where you get pretty much everything, a bit like London, I enjoy chaat once in a while. I had a samosa chaat and a sev puri. See the linked pics because it is very hard to explain what they are! Might seem like a lot for one sitting and it was ;) I felt like a thirsty man in a desert who suddenly came upon a well… hehe…

I am really looking forward to trying out South Indian food which is my traditional food… more so because there are absolutely no South Indian restaurants in Lancaster. Sort of strange really but maybe there isn’t a large enough South Indian community. I sorely miss my food obviously… in a way I end up having it only once a year, if you discount the stuff I make at home, which is pretty bare bones :(

Other than food there’s just one more fixed thing on my list. I have been meaning to catch a West End musical in forever but somehow not happened… until the upcoming Saturday. Moulin Rouge it is :)