Is it really Art vs. Science?

As a science student in high school, I never really thought that science and art could be one. Typical scientific temperament. Going to design college meant that I could escape science for possibly the next four years. Oh but was I mistaken.

Today, 24/7/13, I was rudely awakened. Well not exactly, considering I was kind of missing science.  In general, not as a subject. Using science to design something, now that made it all the more interesting.

Our project, called Mixed Realities, is all about putting science and art together to make something. Mostly games. So today after a somewhat boring and interesting talk on how artists have an innate ability to explain science but without proof (which is why they are condemned by scientists), we broke down the basic components of games in general, and made up our own, as a group.

Ours was quite violent and required a lot of trust between the players. I’ll explain.

There is a referee and n no of players. The objective of the game is to be the last man standing. The rules are as follows:

1. The referee says an object and what body parts the players are supposed to touch it with.
2. Once everyone is touching the object, the players are given 30 seconds to eliminate any of the others, by any means, psychological or physical. Anyone who lets go of the object is eliminated.
3. The referee, at the end of 30 seconds, announces another object and the body parts.
4. The game goes on till one person is left.

All the groups had a demo and then invited the others to play.

As much as it wasn’t exactly science based, it was quite difficult thinking of an original game.

And there were improvements required.

Our criteria had been to use body parts, to have a theme/ story, and to optionally have a moral.

Getting back to the topic, in the last week, I have ‘discovered’ that science is everywhere in the realm of art. Or if not science, math is. Whether you know or not, you’re using science. Or let me put it this way, science is governed by art. You may or may not accept it, but artists long ago found what science is proving today. And they were condemned by scientists then just because they didn’t have experimental proof.

So if you are trying to get out of science by taking art and design, don’t bother. It will follow you around no matter what you take. Just know that the amount of science is considerably small. You’re just applying it to something fun. And you don’t have to formally study it or give an exam on it.

Though if you are a science student, commerce and arts students ask what you’re doing there, which is quite annoying.

Course Frenzy

Our college gives us the freedom to choose our own courses. The method though is maddening.

Our dean (?) sent us a mail one fine morning, when we were all in college. The 17^th I think. We were supposed to give 5 of our preferences that night between 8 p.m. and 8 a.m. the next morning. No one really knew what we were supposed to do. Later we were informed of the entire process and how to go about it.

We went back home, the various Tuesday’s courses’ names swirling in our minds. They were all so interesting. It was a shame we’d get to do only one of them.

We had been told to send an email back to the dean, mentioning our courses of choice. We were supposed to send it only after we got an email from him saying ‘Start sign-up now’. Selection to a course was on a first-cum-first basis.

That night everyone was glued to their laptops and phones from the time they’d reached home. Calling up parents for advice, figuring out what they really wanted to do. It was chaos at its best.

As the time neared 7:30, anxiety and impatience crept in. People were fidgeting in their beds.

Jobless as I was, waiting for the clock to strike 8, I updated my status on Facebook at least three times in those 3 hours. I was staring at the time on the laptop.

Suddenly, someone in the other room screamed. I checked my mail and sure enough there was a mail.

It was from the dean.
It did not say ‘Start sign-up now’.
False alarm. A sadistic joke.
I checked the time. 7:53.
I had to wait some more.

Someone screamed again, a few minutes later. The mail was here.
The torture was over.

The next morning, my roomie told me to check what I’d been selected for.
My first choice, luckily.

But there was another mail….Monday’s course selection.
I could hear the collective groan of all the first years in my head.

It was the same process. So we all sat again at our laptops, a little more relaxed. We were still on our phones, asking for advice. Time was slower than before. I spent my time on Facebook, changing statuses and cover photos.

My flatmate, around 7:54, called out to tell us to scream when the mail came.
I did.
The frenzy it caused was hilarious.
It wasn’t even 7:55 yet.
And I was the only one laughing.

Thankfully, we didn’t get any sadistic mail, unlike what I’d expected.
The torture was finally over.
Or so we thought.

Today we found out we’d have to do the same thing over the weekend, for projects.
Looks like I’ll be spending 3 more hours on Facebook.
Waiting.

Home Away from Home

My mom says, “You will have to leave the nest to spread your wings and fly.” 

When she first said it, which was when we both were waiting for my dad at a mall, the morning I was to be dropped off at the P.G., I thought she was getting emotional and would start crying the next minute. 

My first night at the P.G., I was alone. My roomie, who I’d met in the afternoon that day, was spending the night with her mum. It was dark. But I’d spent nights alone before. I was used to it. 

It wasn’t as scary as I’d thought it to be. I’d met my flatmates. They were there. I wasn’t all alone… 

Two days later, the second day of college, was a Thursday. 

I was impatient to get back to my room. So I asked my P.G.mates, my friends, whether they were ready to go. They looked at me weird. I’d called the P.G. ‘home’. 

Since then, it’s been my home away from home. 

Yeah, I live right there, near the city. I can go home whenever I want. But I don’t. And I don’t think I want to. 

All of us here practically behave like we’ve known each other for forever. Well almost, anyway. 

With the passing days, we’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s best not to judge the other person. That we should accept them for all the craziness that they are. That we’re all pretty similar. 

And I think we have. 

Within a week, we’d started making fun of each other, hanging out in the city together and celebrated a birthday. We’d made so many memories, in those few days when we’d barely known the others.

Yes, we miss our families practically all the time. Yeah, we miss our friends and the comfort of our beds. This is probably one of those times when we actually miss home-cooked food. We miss them all, together. We’re in the same boat.  

I’m not sure if everyone feels this way, but this feels a lot like home.