Who wants to be the second fiddle?
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Insects are psychologically enchanting if you really think about them. It is hard to imagine that slavery exists in an ant kingdom. Most of us studied for SLC about the dancing of the bees to locate its food source. The butterfly tastes with its feet. The dragonfly lengthens its mating to ensure that its sperm is permanently sealed inside the fairer sex. The consequence of not doing so is the removal of the sperm by another male dragonfly before inserting his own. And to the violent extreme there?s our black widow devouring its own hubby, per see, right after the first mate. In certain species of flies, the males only mate with the virgins, which are often recognized by their non-pigmented bodies. But how would the dumb males know if the virgins have just been mated? Ah! It so happens that the male buddies have teamed up to let each other know by putting an olfactory cue on the female abdomen that he?s already had her. The intriguing question is why don?t they go for the non-virgin flies nevertheless? Drawing away from scientific interpretations, couldn?t it be the solidarity shown among the male flies saying to the females ?I don?t want to be your second fiddle? (Indisguise, they haven?t surrendered yet!). On the other side of the spectrum, I feel awfully bad for the bees. They only have one ?Drama? queen no?
Junk Memory
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This is one of my latest findings. It happens when you have a total concentration lapse, especially if you are taking classes in the afternoon. Junk memory gets amplified when you try to be extra-attentive in class that you completely miss the lecture. Amazingly enough, you remember the OTHER trivial details in its vicinity: the ruffling of the silky hair, dimples that appear in fixed intervals, the pattern of the lecturer?s shirt, the dent it creates when she vents out an eccentric smile, fluttering of the eyes, revolving pens, queer laughters, silent whispers, and so on. Mind works in mysterious ways. Everything seems like a photographic memory except for the lecture even after days. The amazing thing about junk memory is that it gets instilled in you when you?ve least thought about it, let alone concentrated. Now I am tempted to think, if all the memory lanes I have written in ?sajha? aren?t figment of my imagination, could they be pieces of my junk memory? As I propose this hot new field to the world ;), I also have a solution to recycle it once in a while. Yes! You guessed it right! JD on the rocks every now and then?
Coming soon:
Intelligent Bullshit
Dreams of an Insomniac