Science Lab

The word scientific temper has been permanentlythe lab than, horror of horrors, the instructor
etched into my memory. In my school days, wematerialized from nowhere. For a few
believed that the scientific temper would take usmoments-that seemed to mean eternity-he
far.stared blankly. "What makes you limp so badly,"
Scientific temper does not belong to laboratorieshe asked. "Sir... sir," I stammered, "my knee
and classrooms alone, it should also penetrate ourstruck against the heavy lock on the almirah." I
drawing rooms, dining rooms and even ourrecovered my sang-froid in the nick of time.
bedrooms. I discussed my inchoate musings with"Well... well." He made a dismissive gesture and let
friends, who helped me put together an actionme go.
plan. We decided to surreptitiously remove one orThis was how we created a lab whose end
two things from the stock allotted to each of usproved to be as anti-climactic as its beginning was
in the school laboratory, and thus create a smallexciting. After a brief harangue that barely lasted
lab in my backyard.one short minute, I cut a red rag with blunt piece
We squeezed amounts of the different salts forof rusted blade and declared the new temple of
our lab into our pockets, rolled in old newspapers.learning open, the demonstration followed soon
Next on the scale of difficulty came concentratedenough. I held a small bottle of acid in one hand
acids. They were kept in the small bottles hiddenand tried to open it with other, but its tin cap had
between the cover of the books. The bulge ofrusted and stuck adamantly in place, while I tried
the books was concealed behind the folded wristto unscrew the cap, it flew off and the liquid
and forearm. Lastly, on the scale of difficulty,spurted out splattering all and sundry. Amidst the
came the burette. Those who have seen thisensuing din and chaos, little did I realize that our
long, slender, fragile, graduated glass tube mayexpensive woolens had been ruined by the acid;
well imagine the problem of logistics involved inbesides, many of us suffered minor acid burns,
carrying it out of the lab, in broad daylight, andwhile I suffered a major one on my neck.
without the instructor noticing it! This unenviableHalf lying on the floor with the shards of broken
task was entrusted to (or rather, thrust upon)acid bottle strewn around me, I heard the
me, because no one else volunteered. Theirstomping of feet draw near, and felt a chill run
argument ran: Since the lab was to be created atthrough my spine. I knew only too well that my
my house, I would benefit from it the most.mother was zeroing in on me, and sensing the
The fateful day finally arrived. My heart wasimpending doom, closed my eyes for the
pounding wildly against my chest, but somehow Iinevitable.
was able to slip the burette into my pants from(I now realize that any unauthorized and
inside of the waist band. Its upper end touchedunsupervised use of harmful chemicals can lead to
my right armpit, while the lower end came slightlyunintended consequences and can prove
above my knee. Now, I had to keep myselfhazardous in the experienced hands. We were
ramrod straight, so that the bulge would notlucky to escape with minor and superficial burns.
show at breast pocket, and yet limp alongHowever, a faded white spot on my neck still
keeping my right leg straight, to keep the stuffreminds of my youthful folly.
intact. But scarcely did I cross the doorstep of