An attempt at description

He was the most regarded professor in our department. He was regarded as a genius by ignorant people or those seeing him for the first time, or by like minded people. By the rest, he was indulged and humoured because they had no choice. Most of the times the intelligent people tried to steer clear of him, but sometimes they would get caught, and would curse their fate for days afterwards. In a moment of thoughtlessness I ended being one of those unfortunate few, and I had to bear the repurcussions for a long time. But that is another story, for another time.
In appearance, he was like a bull frog. I'm not much acquainted with the species, but there is one particular type which swells its cheeks with air like two balloons to let out a croaking sound in the mating season, and this is what he resembled the most. His cheeks looked inflated with air and yet curiously soft. I suppose you would be exceedingly pleased at the smoothness and softness of his cheeks had you happened to touch them. However, I would not advocate it. Some people are known to have a marked repugnance against having the dignity of their cheeks being intruded upon. His nose was small and delicate, like the protruding lips of a pleased frog. Apart from his face, the rest of his anatomy was modelled faithfully along similar lines. I have never seen him squat, but I have no doubt that if he did the resemblance would be complete. I have often imagined him in such a pose, covered throughout in dark green varnish, and have been satisfied with the verisimilitude of my vision. But being of a serious and thoughtful disposition, I have immediately chid myself for my flippant and childish thoughts.
In short, he was bulky. He was also short. His figure was well rounded, devoid of any sharp edges. He was clean shaven and his spectacles were round. And rounding up all this were his movements, quick and jerky, like the spasmodic jerks of the frog that is supposed to have kicked out when Luigi Galvani discovered galvanism in the late eighteenth century. When he (I mean the professor) discoursed to the class in front of a blackboard, it looked as if a homeless mouse had trespassed into his warm clothes, and whenever he would feel a particularly vicious pattering in some part of his anatomy, he would give it a dainty jerk, and the mouse on its part would go tumbling into other unexplored regions.

However, unfazed by the capers of the supposed mouse, he would carry on with his discourse to the students, and in front of their very eyes, would pry deep into the chest in which Nature's secrets were hid, and bring them to light and set them down upon the blackboard in an immaculate and loving hand. In the front two rows the students would wonder and nod with satisfaction as secret after secret lay exposed and understood, slowly emerging from the Darkness of Ignorance into the Light of Knowledge, and they would all stare open mouthed as Nature revealed herself in her full glory and majesty. The others; those not sitting in the front two rows, would also be open mouthed, but a closer scrutiny would reveal the inertness of their bodies, and their insensibility to all external stimuli. In front of their very weary eyes, the darkness was profound indeed and only the bell heralding the end of the class could have dispelled it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was pleased with the way my description of the professor was shaping up when I heard someone call my name.

‘What are you doing Bhaskar?’ asked the professor.

I was brought back to reality with a start. I hastily covered my notebook and tried to look alert. It wouldn’t do to let the professor see what I had just written; no, that would have been the end of me. He wouldn’t have been amused to see what I had actually written; though I do hope that you, gentle reader, have been vastly entertained. He was looking at me and his voice was suspicious. He was probably unused to see me take down such copious notes. And of course the fact that I was writing without listening to his lecture had added to the suspicion. I looked at him innocently and said,

‘Sir?’

‘What are you writing?’

‘Sir I’m taking down notes.’

‘Let me see,’ he said, and made his way to my seat.

My heart jumped to my mouth but my friend Kamat, sitting to my left, managed to slip his notebook into my hands unobserved and I deftly handed over mine to him. The professor came and looked into ‘my’ notes, and went away impressed. We secretly exchanged our notebooks once again and I heaved a sigh of relief. That was a narrow scrape. After this nasty shock I couldn’t go back to my notebook, so I tried to pay attention to what the professor was saying; a very difficult job, but not without its rewards, as it turned out.

‘So,’ said the professor, giving a twist to his wrist which seemed to propagate to his shoulder and give his belly a spasmodic jerk at the same time, ‘Which is more fundamental? A law or a principle?’

‘A law,’ someone hazarded.

‘Why is it more fundamental?’

No one answered.

‘Why do we call Newton’s laws as laws and not principles? Or why do we talk about the principle of conservation of energy and not the law of conservation of energy?’

Still no one answered.

‘What is homogeneity of space?’

Someone jumped up. ‘Sir it means that all points in space are identical.’

‘So if I take this point and this point,’ said the professor, indicating the two points with his fists, ‘are these two points the same?’

Probably he wanted to ask if homogeneity of space was a law or a principle, but he couldn’t resist making this dig at the student.

‘What is isotropy of space?’

‘Sir it means that all directions in space are equivalent.’

‘If I am standing in the middle of a football field, are all directions equivalent? I can move in all directions? That means I can fly upwards. So can I fly upwards?’

‘No sir.’

‘So what prevents me?’

‘Sir gravity.’

‘In which direction does it act?’

‘Sir downwards.’

‘So is space isotropic?’

There was no answer. Having sufficiently confounded them, he proceeded.

‘Isotrpy of space is just a convenient concept. So why is it a convenient concept?’

Seeing no answer forthcoming he continued:

‘It is a convenient concept because we don’t want the experiment to depend on the direction in which it is performed. Without it, two people doing the same experiment but facing different directions will get different results. So we need isotropy of space. What is homogeneity of space?’

No one dared to answer this time. Seeing the field all clear for himself, he went on to enlighten the awe-struck students.

‘Homogeneity of space does not mean that all points in space are identical. What does it tell you? It simply tells you that the experiment should not depend on the origin of the coordinate system that you have chosen. Otherwise with different origins you will get different results. What is homogeneity of time?’

Having grown sufficiently used to the concept of homogeneity, one student hazarded:

‘Sir it means that the experiment does not depend on the origin of time.’

‘Suppose I perform an experiment today, and I do it again tomorrow, will I get the same result?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Suppose I throw this chalk,’ he said, letting it drop, ‘and measure the time it takes to fall to the ground. Suppose I repeat the experiment tomorrow, and there is a storm, and the chalk flies off with the wind. So will it take the same time to fall?’

There was pin drop silence in the class.

‘So is homogeneity of time violated? What happens to homogeneity of time?’

No one felt equal to it. He expounded the apparent contradiction:

‘Just like isotropy of space, homogeneity of time is simply a convenient concept. You invoke then because you do not want your experiment to depend on when you started it, or where you performed it. Any deviation you observe will be attributed to some other forces. The laws of physics are formulated in such a way that the principles are unchanged. That is why principles are more fundamental (than laws).

'What about isotropy of time? Is forward in time the same as backward in time?

‘Suppose I drop this chalk to the ground. Does time move backwards? Does the chalk come back in my hands?’

‘No sir.’

‘So what prevents time from moving backwards?’

‘Sir the second law of thermodynamics.’

‘What does the second law of thermodynamics tell you?’

‘It says that the entropy of the universe keeps on increasing.’

‘What is entropy?’

By this time it had become too much for me and I was awakened by a violent shaking of my shoulder. It was my friend Kamat trying to wake me up at the end of the class. We went to the canteen to have a cup of coffee. I must mention that we were not students attending the course, but trainees trying to see how the course was taught, as next year we had to teach the course as part of our Teaching Assistantship. We were senior research students and every research student was assigned some such duty.

‘So how did you find the class?’ asked Kamat.

‘Oh it was eventful. You saved the day for me. Thanks.’

‘I know. You’d have been in deep sh*t. Just show me what you were writing.’

I gave him my notebook and he started chuckling as he went through it.

‘Ha ha! This is real good. It really is like Professor Lahiri! His spasmodic jerks! Why does he do it I wonder.’ Said Kamat, trying to mimic the professor’s movements.

‘The way his head shakes reminds me of a doll with a moving head. Have you seen how it oscillates? It’s just like Professor Lahiri!’

‘But apparently he’s very well read. Wonder where he got all that information from…laws, principles, what not! At least I’ve never seen it in any book.’

‘Yes…and his English…impeccable! He really looks like one those big shot high energy physicists in CERN you see on Discovery Channel!’

‘He’s also very witty. Sarcastic, rather.’

‘Absolutely. Did you notice how he made fun of the kids with his jibes?’

‘Poor kids! They’re studying all this for the first time and that’s how he treats them!’

‘I did a project with him once.’ I said after a pause.

‘Really? What was it like?’

‘Phew!’ I sighed. ‘I don’t want to go through that again.’

‘Why what happened?’

‘Well, he’d never be in his office at the time we’d appoint to meet up, and I’d wait outside his office for hours. But that was a very minor thing. That was nothing.’

‘Then what was it?’

‘There was some problem regarding my presentation. Mine was slotted at eight in the morning. It was to be the first. Somehow I was not informed of it and he e-mailed the rest of the students just before midnight. He had been out of station for about two weeks before that; probably busy with some conference or the other. Anyway, I was told by someone in the evening before Lahiri had mailed them that the presentation was to start at ten the next morning. Of course I missed it.’

‘What happened then?’

‘Well, I sent him an e-mail telling him that I had missed the presentation as he had not informed me. I wrote something like, “Dear sir, it seems you inadvertently forgot to inform me about my presentation in today’s schedule, due to which I unfortunately missed it. Could you kindly arrange an alternative slot for the same?” Pat comes his reply, “Dear Bhaskar, since it was decided long back that your presentation was to be at eight, I did not feel the need to inform you. Since grading has to be done on the basis of the presentation, and you have missed yours, I have to give you an F. Best regards, Dinanath Lahiri.” ’

‘No way! What happened then? Did he really give you an F?’

‘Obviously he had forgotten to e-mail me and was trying to cover up his tracks. My name wasn’t in the mailing list as I was attending the classes as part of a different course. It’s true he’d told me that mine was to be the first presentation; at eight in the morning. But that was at the beginning of the course, about three months back. And I had a ticket reserved for Delhi that afternoon in Shatabdi Express! I thought after the presentation I’d be on my way home, staring at the meadows and the fields through the window of my air-conditioned coach!’

‘But what happened then? Did he really give you an F?’

‘Well, it took a lot of pleading. I went to his office with my report and the slides, and it took all my efforts, but finally he agreed. He took a look at my slides and let me off. But the experience was a nasty one.’

‘I’m sure it was,’ said Kamat, with an incredulous shake of the head. ‘I wouldn’t want to go through that. What was it about?’

‘What? The project?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, it was supposedly on General Relativity, but I ended up studying weird things like the ether drag and Michelson-Morley experiment in detail. There was also something called the Trouton and Noble experiment. Apparently designed to detect ether drag. I don’t remember a thing now.’

‘Not surprising. He really screwed up things for you.’

‘You bet. And his e-mail was pretty smug: best regards indeed! The jerk!’

‘Ssssh! He's coming,’ cautioned Kamat.

It was indeed Professor Lahiri. He was accompanied by Professor Mitra of our department. I was hoping they wouldn’t notice us and was looking in another direction to avoid direct eye contact. But they saw us all the same and made their way towards us. This always happens. The ones you want to avoid make a bee-line for you and the ones you want to have sex with don't even notice you.

‘Here they are,’ said Professor Lahiri. They took a couple of chairs lying nearby and sat with us. I saw Professor Mitra’s eyes linger on the figure of a young girl some distance away.

‘So how are you finding the class?’ asked Professor Mitra.

‘Yes sir, very interesting.’ I said.

‘He was taking down very good notes,’ said Professor Lahiri.

I wondered if he was being sarcastic.

‘Who? Bhaskar?’

‘Yes. I took a look at them. They’re even better than mine. ’

‘Really? I must take a look at them some day. He did very well in my course also.’

‘Which course was that?’

‘It was an elective course. Critical Phenomena and Phase Transitions.’

Again I tried to detect the note of sarcasm, but could arrive at no definite conclusions. As long as they didn’t actually ask for my notebook I was happy with anything. I was carrying the damn thing in my hands as I didn’t have any bag to put it in.

‘Bhaskar, since you are enjoying the course so much, I want you to take the tutorial when I start with relativity.’

‘Sure,’ I said. There was nothing else I could say on the spur of the moment.

‘I want you to teach them ether drag and the Michelson-Morley experiment. Also the Trouton and Noble experiment. Since you’ve already done a project it will be very easy for you.’

‘Sure,’ I said. I was feeling a little dazed.

‘What project?’ asked Professor Mitra.

‘He did a reading project with me on relativity. I was also teaching a relativity course to the M.Sc students and he attended all my classes and had his presentation along with them. He wrote a very good report. Very nice slides.’

I wondered if he had forgotten what had actually happened. They kept talking about some thing or the other and Kamat and I kept nodding our heads in assent. There was a colloquium at five in the evening. Not that I was interested, but I’m mentioning it as it has a bearing on what follows. For the benefit of my kind reader, I have just checked with my Oxford English Dictionary, and it informs me that the word is derived from the Latin word colloquy; signifying the act of speaking. There was a colloquium in the department at five, which meant that some scientist or the other would be talking about his latest research findings to a group of other scientists and professors. On my part I studiously avoided them as usually I could find something better to occupy my time.

After a while Professor Mitra, smoking his cigarette and taking the last sip from his tea cup, said:

‘re baba! So many things to do! I have to go to the colosseum (sic) at five.’ He had the air of one who has a hundred responsibilities on his hand, and being of a very responsible nature he cannot even think of shirking them.

‘What! Where do you want to go?’ asked Lahiri.

‘Colosseum. I have to go to the colosseum at five.’

Lahiri still feigned deafness.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get you. Where do you want to go?’ he said, darting a sly look across the table at the two of us.

‘What’s happening to your ears baba! I said I want to go to the colosseum.’

Kamat’s eyes and mine met for a fleeting instant and we had to immediately look away to avoid arousing Professor Mitra’s suspicions.

The two of them stayed on for about five more minutes. After they left Kamat and I burst out laughing. After a while however we became serious.

‘What was that about the tutorial?’ asked Kamat. ‘Saying that your project was very good and all that?’

‘I know! Damn liar! He knew very well how it had gone for me.’

‘I’m sure he remembers, and he’s still screwing you! He was laughing all the way inside.’

‘And did you see the smirk when he asked Mitra about the “Colosseum”? Good slides indeed!’ I said hotly.

‘You know, he reminds me of Lady Macbeth. The serpent beneath the smiling flower.’

‘But good Lord! This is crazy! Whoever studies ether these days? And the Michelson-Morley experiment is the one thing I can’t stand in Relativity! Add to it the Trouton and Noble stuff! I’m done for!’

‘Relax! There’s still a month left before he starts teaching relativity.’

‘Maybe, but man! It’s been so long and yet I have to bear the consequences of doing a project with him.’

‘Ha ha! That’s what you’ve written in your notes, haven’t you? It’s funny how things prophecy themselves.’

After a while Kamat said,

‘And did you see Professor Mitra? The way he was leering at that girl?’

‘I did. Dunno why he needs to establish his virility at this age.’

‘Perhaps he’s trying to emulate Feynman.’

‘But Feynman was also a physicist!’

‘Ha ha ha! That’s true.’

‘Perhaps he’ll write his autobiography some day: “Surely You’re Joking Mr. Mitra!” ’

‘No no no! Better still, Lahiri will write his biography: “Surely You’re Joking about the Colosseum!” ’

‘You know, I was tempted to ask him, “You’re going to the Colosseum? But isn’t it in Rome?” ’

‘Ha ha! And I wouldn’t be surprised if Lahiri told Mitra, “Oh Mitra! Glad to see you escaped unhurt from the Colosseum!” ’

‘And the icing on the cake would be if Mitra were to say, “Now why should I get hurt? As if there are lions in the Colosseum!” ’

We finally tired of these imaginary scenes, and looked about here and there. The girl Professor Mitra had been staring at was still there, standing some distance away. Kamat looked at her and said,

‘She’s cute.’

He added as an afterthought,

‘She also has nice eyes.’

‘True.’

‘Damn! She’s going!’

‘Too bad. We must go too.’

‘Let us. Who’s paying the money?’

‘You pay. You still owe me some.’

‘Okay,’ he said, and off we went.

(For the last few days these brackets contained the message 'To be continued...' Now it seems like it has been concluded, though of course one can never be sure...life throws up new experiences everyday!)