Skip to main content

Academic Superstitions

As a researcher, the mind gets trained to look at things logically and critically. How do the academic settings have superstition then? The generation of students who come before you set up the tradition and practice for others. These legacies get carried on.

The lunch and dinner break walks aren't complete without me touching the big, green entrance gate. Why do I do it? It is believed that whoever touches the gate, gets selected for their post-doctoral fellowship outside the country. My greedy mind is carrying around this belief. I have even shared it with my juniors who I am sure will carry the practice forward. Another belief floating around is that if you feed the campus dogs, you will go outside the country for your PhD. I was a strict follower of this rule. I used to feed the dogs sugar-packed glucose biscuits. Unfortunately, I was afraid they would have diabetes and stopped that. Now I am stuck here. I do not have any personal experience, but the sports people on the campus talk about a superstition they have. Any post-doc playing cricket with master's students will get a job at the rank of assistant professor. The data points seem to fit the theories. I know a senior who went away to Great Britain for her post-doc. I recently met a few seniors who are working as assistant professors. They supported this theory. 

Now, do I discard these systems and customs? Because they seem illogical. The mind will laugh at this stupidity. But the heart, which has grown fond of the dogs, the big green gate, the playground, the people I met, the relations I built, wants that these legacies get carried on. 

Popular posts from this blog

Miss you Labi

My best comrade was my Ladybird or Labi as I call her. Labi accompanied me to school without any morning blues.We went shopping and racing together.She never gave me any trouble,except a loose screw here and there.She carried my burden of school bag as if that was a fallen feather. The time that we spent together gave me bitter-sweet memories.The burst of wind in my face and the panting after a race led me into her world.How can I escape from it now?? But time has come for us to separate.She has retired and decided to rest..but I shall never let her rust...

Parallel Lines

Sitting in the sea facing balcony and seeing the sun set always gave Neena the particular feeling of nostalgia. No matter what, she could never forget her past. It was vividly embossed in her. Such was her life. She never imagined she could see Bombay and she would never even have heard of this land of dreams- Mayapuri, if not for Chako, her husband. Chacko and Neena belonged to the same parish. She met him for the first time on a Easter Sunday. They had an instant connection. He became her bestfriend.  Growing up in an orthodox Christian family in Kerala, with a zamindari father where no one dared to go beyond his words, she had no choice of her own or any women of her family. When she turned 18, her father received proposals for her hand in marriage. It was then for the first time in her life that she spoke against her father. "No", said Neena. Her mother and grandmother stood transfixed. "I am leaving with Chako". With a heavy heart and a silence, she left that p

Caged

It's 10 already! Oh! But how does it matter to me? For I'm Caged. The crowd gazed at me. through their sunglasses. Took selfies. They poke and peer. As the sun goes up, I'm fed as if I am a baby. It's for survival, they said. Smirking at the hypocrisy, I ate my prey. The sun goes down. Oh! But how does it matter to me? for I'm caged.