So there I was, standing inside the Nanotechnology lab, my thesis lab, for the first time, nervously twisting the strap of my bag and reliving my first day in kindergarten, a stranger amongst strangers then, and a stranger amongst strangers still. A lump of humanity among other lumps of humanity then, a girl amidst boys now. That fact pricked at me constantly, as did the knowledge that I would be the only girl in the lab for a year to come, and in all probability until I got my degree, and that as far as I knew or anyone I knew knew, there wasn't even a girl predecessor in my lab.
Standing there, I felt insanely inane, from the top of my bindi to the tip of my salwar. Would they narrow their eyes at the fact that my bag that was wider than it was big? Would they give me credit for wearing floaters rather than sandals? Did I fit in? Would I ever?It was at that point that the post-doc research scholar I was to work under walked in. Him, the sole decider of whether I would cherish or detest my every waking moment for the next eighteen months. The man who would weigh me up - all of me - gender, mother tongue, work ethic, weight - and decide whether to take me under his wing or to spurn me in shame.
Dr.Mondal looked at me for one long moment - sizing up the fact that I did not speak the tongue of his forefathers and he did not speak the tongue of mine. Then, in direct translation from a genderless Bengali, he bellowed to the lab assistant "Give him a computer!"
It was all I needed to hear. I hitched up the collar of my sweater proudly, safe in the knowledge that I was one of them..
Author's Note:
I wrote this piece exactly a year ago, when I tremulously stepped into my thesis lab and into research phase of my Masters' programme. However I couldn't publish it then, as the above-mentioned post doctorate fellow had the power to make my life hell, if he so wished.
He has now moved on from this institute, and I am free to do as I please. Pass the concentrated Nitric Acid and copper strips, will you?
