Last Sunday morning saw Kooyeon, Clarissa, Kevin, Robin and me shivering at quarter to seven in Baker Street station, on our way to the 2010 National Championships at the Stoke Mandeville Stadium in Ayelsbury. There is a direct train from Marylebone to Aylesbury, but it didn’t run early enough to get us to the tournament in time, so we had to hop on and off the Metropolitan Line at various improbable places all the way out to Zone 9 (bet you didn’t even know there was a Zone 9), and then get a train from somwhere named ‘Amersham’ onwards.

Arriving in the nick of time, everybody weighed in without too many problems. The commitment shown by Kooyeon and Clarissa in relation to this was exemplary, both having gone on epic diets the week prior to the tournament in order to lose a couple of kilos so as to fit into their weight categories. Kooyeon, an egg burger and fried chicken man, had even gone so far as to substitute these fine meals with boiled celery, or boiled spinach, or something dreadful like that.

Onto the tournament. Clarissa and Robin had opted to compete in poomsae, which involves the execution of a pre-set series of movements before a panel of judges. They would decide who had performed the poomsae well enough to go on to the next round. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, neither made it to the finals.

Would the team perform better in sparring? No, we didn’t really. Kooyeon and Clarissa fought first (on separate rings against different opponents, I hasten to add), but neither was able to score a victory. Kooyeon was suffering from a groin injury picked up during training, and despite going 6-0 up against his opponent at one point early in the match, was unable to maintain the lead because of it. Clarissa fought with considerable skill and aggression, and had clearly improved immensley since the Cambridge Open at the end of last year. Unfortunately, however, despite landing many points, her opponent was ultimately able to negate these, owing not least to a considerable height advantage.

Kevin’s first opponent didn’t turn up and so he received a bye into the second round. Again, however, a height disadvantage seriously undermined his strenuous efforts, and despite an heroic fight, he was ultimately not successful (he dances a mean dance, though, which his opponent almost certainly can’t do).

Our hopes for a win were now pinned on Robin (I don’t really count)…and he almost did it. The match was by far and away one of the most exciting – and closest – of the day. He and his opponent virtually matched each other move for move, and the pace was extraordinary: an excellent reminder of what an exciting sport Taekwondo can be. The only competitor in his weight category, Robin was guaranteed a silver medal, and only missed gold by a whisker.

My own match, by contrast, saw me squander my weight, height and belt advantage to go down 8-1. Bravo, David.

After all our fights were over there didn’t seem much point in hanging around for the awards ceremony, so we made our escape. The most noteworthy event afterwards was during the taxi ride to the station, during which Clarissa declared a deep affection for Burger King. But don’t we all, really? Especially for those who only ate boiled vegetables for a week.

It began with trials and hopes were high, especially as the team had managed to keep hold of integral players such as Alex “sex addict” Casimo, Sean “Mr Lovalova” Farrar, and Lawrence Fishy-Fingers. Our optimism was well reinforced by the addition of some top notch fresher’s (+ Warrenator), and weird post-grads/general course kids (including a postman and a Princeton academic). The season started well, despite the loss of two very average players to futsal and FIFA, as we went on to win all but two games in the first term. Along with this world beating form, the team began to bond in ways which only Warren could describe. The highlight for the term was definitely the teams tour to coastal shit-hole Portsmouth; quote of the tour- “does my face smell of tit?” summed up the little holiday, but the smelly faced culprit will remain unnamed. On this fateful night seasoned veteran and loving father Rob Low made sure he and his son were tucked up in bed before midnight. Captain Tom “the philosopher” Jacques probably wishes he had joined them after being caught slumped “thinking” in the corner.

Hopes were high entering the second term, with the team’s confidence throbbing as much as Warrenator’s member when thinking of Besty. The term began with two massive ULU cup matches. First came a hard fought victory over league champions Royal Holloway, followed by a dramatic extra-time win over title rivals UCL 1’s. This set up a semi-final derby against the poly on the strand whom we demolished 4-1. The final will take place on the 21st March and we encourage as many WAGS, family, and friends to make the trip to the Bank of England pitches to cheer us on. We are playing an in-form Imperial 1’s side, and we are sure that with a good performance, and your support, victory will be ours.
We backed up our cup success with a league run of 8 successive wins, and despite a mid season slip up against UCL 1’s, the title was in our sights. However, we entered week 9 with the daunting task of winning our last three games to clinch the title.

It was a congested and tiring week to end our ULU season, playing UCL 3’s, Royal Holloway 1’s, and SOAS 1’s in the space of six days. First up, UCL 3’s, a team with a mixed ULU record for this season, and a game where we could not afford to slip up. A nervous 1st team had a pre-match boost when Jessica Moore (Adam Moore’s ‘talented’ younger sister) promised rewards a’plenty for a victory. Disturbingly, Mooresy bagged two goals, whilst Fishy and Casimo got a cheeky little invite to her 18th. In the end LSE recorded a comfortable 4-2 victory, with Sean “I’m sorry, so sorry, sorry” Farrar celebrating his birthday in style with a solid, steamy performance. Next on the agenda was a victory against Royal Holloway 1sts . After a shaky start we began to take control of the game, and our dominance was rewarded when Tom Gay (ha) latched onto a Dicky Robert’s cross with that abnormally large head of his. We maintained this slender lead until the 70th minute when Holloway struck against the run of play. Luckily we reacted quickly and took the lead once more with another trademark goal from our 25 goal-a-season man Tom Gay. The game finished 2-1, despite a late surge by Holloway which proved unsuccessful due to the brilliance of the best goalkeeper the 1st team has ever seen, Niklas “backdoor entry” Stog.

This set us up perfectly for our last league game of the season against title rivals SOAS 1st team. Win the game and win the league, simple. Nerves were on show in the pre-match warm up, and they followed into the start of the game. We didn’t play to our full potential in the first half and went in at the break one goal down with a goal from Strivens’ boyfriend. After an inspiring team-talk by captain Tom Jacques we started the second half positively, but conceded another goal against the run of play. This, coupled with going down to 10 men soon after, left us with an uphill task and we ultimately lost the game 3-0 despite a gutsy second half performance. We walked away feeling like we had let the league slip, however we still find ourselves at the top of the ULU Premier division and still have a good chance of becoming champions depending on other teams results.

On a high from the spectacular performance in the individuals, the LSE stars got down to business in the main team event. We only needed to come in the top 2 of the group to get through to the knockout stage, but obviously we were gunning for 1st place as our group contained such laughable opponents as Warwick 1sts, Southampton 1sts and York and Queens 2nds. It started off badly as we didn’t hear the call for our first match against York, resulting in an immediate 1-frame deduction. Given that we were actually 45 fucking minutes late, we were really rather lucky not to have been disqualified (bless you Paddy!). Technically we drew 5-5 against York but because of the frame deduction we lost 5-4.

Things got worse as we then played Warwick 1sts. The good news is that they were a man down as apparently one of their legends Jimmy Hill was deemed ineligible for BUCS. This meant we immediately had a 2-0 head-start! We lost 8-2. Alpesh played his best snooker of the weekend against Jay Murphy but still got raped. Will secured a 20 point lead against Matt Bradley but sadly also got forcibly penetrated as Matt knocked in two 40+ breaks. We then lost 8-2 to Southampton 1sts. Our last match against Queens 2nds was absolutely vital, we had to win and win big in order to avoid relegation by coming bottom. Unfortunately we drew and drew big… Will played some awesome snooker to secure the draw, getting a 65 point lead from only 3 visits. This meant we still had a chance of not coming bottom! Queens simply had to beat York at least 9-1.

That kinda didn’t happen. We were out. Bottom from the group, relegated to the Shield for next year, and left sitting in despair crying into our chips. Paddy informed us that we could still play in the plate (the competition for the 4 worst teams in the main championship, and the 4 worst teams in the Shield).

Will’s rationale was that we came here to play snooker, and we had a chance of playing some more, so why not? Why not indeed. Aqeel was sympathetic to Will’s suggestion, replying “bollocks, I don’t give a shit, I’m going”, and very nearly offered his signature Kadrian back-hand, the mental aggro maniac. Alpesh’s mood changed and he warmed to the idea. Then Ken said yeah why not. Finally, Paddy suggested that we should play as there would be some good crack there, which convinced Lee, as drugs would probably be the only thing that could have cheered him up at that point.

So off we went to the barren desolate wastelend surrounding the Excelsior Snooker Centre out of town, to face the rest of the useless teams who came last in their groups. It felt rather like being offered to compete in the Special Olympics. As we arrived we faced the incredibly friendly Kent 2nds and embarrassingly shook hands and said good luck. Kent 2nds had come bottom in their shield group, and Alpesh lost his frame. lolz. Fortunately however Lee, Aqeel and Ken won their matches so we were through to the SEMI-FINAL!! WOOOOOOO!!!

Here we faced the shouty incomprehensible force of Ulster 2nds, which necessitated concentrated lip-reading to understand what on earth they were saying. Lee and Aqeel both won by margins of 50+ points to put the LSE into a solid 2-frame lead and just needed one more to get to the plate final. Alpesh lost again to a team that came bottom in the shield. Ken also lost. We were 2-2 with Will ‘Balls of Granite’ Dee facing the slowest player ever in the deciding frame. A (s)crappy affair took place and despite getting an early lead Will miscued to leave the Ulster guy with a chance of leveling. And in fact he took the lead. Will was faced with a 10-foot pot down the rail on the green. Watching closely, Lee shouted telepathically to Will: “don’t go for the pot, don’t go for the pot, you stupid **** DON’T GO FOR THE POT!!” He went for the pot. And thank Christ he made it. He then had an almost as difficult pot on the brown. Will didn’t notice the vein in my forehead about to burst as obviously the only viable option was safety. Will thumped the long brown into the pocket. How the hell did he do that?? He then potted the blue but shanked the pink. Fortunately for him the Ulster guy didn’t capitalize and we were into the plate final!

Here we faced Warwick 2nds, who on paper are arguably the strongest 2nd team at the event. We beat them 6-0. Oh yes. We finally decided to play well, Alpesh knocking in a 40, Aqeel banging away a 34, it wasn’t even close. We had won the title of Best Losers! And with it the beautiful Saints Plate and… GOLD MEDALS! YYEEEEEAAHHHH!!!!! Next year we plan on retaining the title – but to do so we will have to come bottom in our Shield group, which will require some genuinely appalling snooker. With Alpesh, Aqeel and Ken graduating however, I think we can do it. Bring on 2011!

Shockwaves of despair reverberated around campus this week as news of the tragic death of Beaver Sports very own Xisco Getege-D’or hit Houghton Street. The Peruvian pervert whose lyrical myricals have often been likened to a young Tupac Shakur fell to his death when rock climbing in Azerbaijan. A mountain goat chewed through his support rope, causing him to plummet a monumental twelve feet to his death (around 6 times his height). This column, written just hours before the author’s death will provide a fitting epitaph in what was one of the AU’s sluttiest weeks.

Beaver Sports will be further depleted with the news that Jonas has had to return to his native Peru. The victim of a strict Catholic upbringing, Jonas impregnated a local fisherman’s friend, so the handsome devil himself has had to return on one knee to see out his remaining years.
This week saw Wimbledon ball boy extraordinaire and newly elected AU President, Ben Robinson, deliver a poem that has been confirmed to have made Xisco turn in his grave. Sources have confirmed that in a bid to win friends early, the John Candy ringer was seen at the table of ‘el filthies’ playing taps alongside the, as yet unnamed, future of the FC…Black Chris.

Generally, the AU Ball was a debauched affair, with two alleged incidents of coerced debauchery during the evening; for the first, see picture 38 from Vanessa Duckworth’s album, 3rd Team Netball Love, and for the second speak to Monty Ishmael who heard the screams yet could not muster the bravery to help. The evening saw the return of the once predatorial, now mere fat fluffer, Alan from King’s. It would appear old habits die-hard as the Phil Mitchell lookalike went ‘Homewood Bound’ to his Mecca, the KFC by King’s Cross Station.

Virgin within the M25 Andrew ‘Three Metre Rogers’ Rogers almost managed to break his duck with the official ‘fittest girl in womens’ rugby’ (according to last year’s champ Kate Strivens). However the form-book didn’t lie for Tony as he somehow managed not to convert despite face raping for over 3 hours at the ball and receiving a blozzer.
The final story to emanate from el Ball was the news that after failing with his usual “I’m an actor” line, Andrew ‘Cheeky’ Simpson had to resort to the most working class of chat up lines with “I’ve got no key and I’m locked out”. Surprisingly, Simpson’s acting skills were up to scratch and he managed to fool a blazed Strivens into allowing him back to hers. What happened next is pure conjecture; however, knowing Strivo’s past record, it dosen’t take Stephen Hawking nor even a degree from a Strand Poly to have a fairly good
idea.

Friday’s Crush saw the unlikely event of a foursome occurring, with big John Bown and lil’ John Rajeretnamramnamram sharing a bed with someone odious and an arrow maker. Raj’s usual trick backfired somewhat however, as the session had to be ended prematurely with Bowny caught in the proverbial line of fire which prompted the fridge to say “Corr, have a day off Raj”. It was noted however that the Bownster’s skin was looking mighty soft come Saturday morning football.
Lad of the year: Owly – For continuously winning Lad of the Week and head butting a bouncer in Zoo-Bash.

Worst lad of the year: Rugby’s club captain? Who is he? Rees Matthew Townsend-Hall-Strivens I think his name is…

The ‘John Terry’ lad of the year: Big John Bown. For not only organizing lots of parties but for doing the dirty on teammate Jack ‘Bridge’ Fellows and trying to take his position of centre back.

Ladette of the year: Emma Heap, BJ Watson, Gabs Butu, Black Chris, Rob Charnock, Alex Pearce, Josh Stacey, Nadir Gohar, Lizzie Bacon, Latif Baluch and of course Sebastian Baccala.

Ginger lad of the year: It was a two horse race, with only Scholesy and Black Chris in the running. Unable to come to a decision the award has been given to both, a little perk to help them forget about the unfortunate colour of their hair.

Fittest Tuns barstaff of the year: After the sacking of George De-Ste-Croix for being (the official reason given) too desirable and putting everyone else off of their work, this award naturally goes to Kate Strivens, with Janine Philips coming a distant second.

The Interview

So what gave you the inspiration and desire to write such a hard-hitting column?
KH: It all started when I was on the LSE Ski Tour, after being mistreated by BJ Watson for the last of many times. I felt it was necessary to let the wider LSE student body know just how undesirable the seedy slutty underbelly of the AU was.
AH: Kate knew I was an avid reader of all the great publications, NY Times, Economist and of course Animal Sex Weekly, so it was only natural that she should come to me to make her vision become a reality.

How interesting, you always were an unlikely partnership somewhat akin to karaoke superstars Rudi and John the Paedo, how exactly did you two meet?
AH: It all started one bright breezy Sunday morning in lent term, I was absent mindedly wiling away the hours exposing myself to minors on a well-known webcam based website when a lil’ blondie pops up. Next thing I know I’ve got a Facebook friend request and the rest is now in the annals of journalistic history.

Was it ever difficult to maintain your anonymity?
KH: At the start we were very concerned about this. That’s why I mentioned myself a few times in a less than positive light to try and put the reader off the scent.
AH: However, a few weeks in, these plebs Joseph ‘BJ’ Watson and George De-Ste-Croix started claiming they were the authors. My first response was utter indignation we soon realized; however, it allowed us to be all the more abusive and allow the pair to suffer the consequences.

One final question:BJ, Luther and Sebby Webby. Snog, Marry, Avoid?
KH: [stifled laughter] Snog Luther, marry BJ and avoid Seb. I’ve spent enough time with that fat crybaby to know he won’t amount to anything in life.
AH: I’m not a homosexual man but if worst came to worst, I’d like to start off slow by snogging Luther, eventually marrying Luther and finally avoiding Luther. Like a young Cunniffe.

Key: KH – Kate Henry; AH – Alex Hillback

The AU Ball it right up there with the Carol as the highlight of the AU social calendar. The often scruffy rabble of sportsmen and women scrub themselves up, don dinner jackets and ball gowns and descend upon a fairly nice hotel for the awarding of colours. Sounds civilized, doesn’t it?

However, for what should be a glamorous and memorable occasion is not for most. This isn’t because it’s not a great event, but because of the copious amounts of grog imbibed. I certainly can’t say I’m not guilty of this – I was slurring my words on the Tube on the way there, and my last memory (before American Fried Chicken post Zoo) is of throwing tomatoes and mozzarella everywhere.

So when I woke on Thursday morning, I inevitably asked myself why I had paid £50 for the privilege of a meal I certainly don’t remember and probably didn’t even eat. It’s something I wonder most Thursday mornings as I go through the receipts in my wallet (Zoo Bar is rather appropriately listed as Venom on the statements), my sent messages and Hamdi’s photos, but this time it was different, given the increased financial aspect.

So, in a manner you would probably only get at somewhere like LSE, lets perform a cost-benefit analysis of the AU Ball:

Costs: £50 for ticket; Dress/Tux; Dry cleaning; 2-day hangover

Benefits: Legendary night of debauchery, shenanigans, banter, lash and minge; stories that will live on; a nice meal

It may appear from this that it is a simple case of costs outweighing the benefits. All in all, the AU ball can cost hundreds of pounds just for one night. However, ask anyone who has ever been to an AU ball and they will tell you that it is worth every penny, in spite of the complete lack of memories, empty wallets and vomit covered clothes/rooms/girlfriends. What matters most it that you had an absolutely epic tour, the time of your life, and can take away tales that those who weren’t there can never be a part of.

As a species, we are social creatures, and have a natural urge to be a part of something. That’s something that justifies the cost, being there, feeling a part of it, avoiding the ‘fear of missing out’ – all things you cant put a price on. To quote Mastercard: Ticket – £50. Dinner Jacket – £70. Cleaning bill – £30. Being there when Laurence Koo was found passed out on the 4th floor of the hotel across the road to the one the AU ball was in – priceless.

By now you must have come to realize how unlike Murdoch is the city-locked LSE. Here the ethos, if I may put it crudely, is one of ‘more worries’. I have always dreamed of coming to the LSE, and for me it is the only place, save for Venice, that has met its story-book quality reputation. But the culture here is written for the driven and ambitious; there are positions to hold in societies, in the union, in the newspaper – it’s an unending spectrum of choice. And that’s not even mentioning how academically competitive students are; or, at least, that’s my impression as a second year law student. While Murdoch had a Guild President and accompanying officials, the campaigns for their election consisted of a few posters randomly thrown around the university as opposed to the pantomime of campaigners that crowd Houghton Street.

During Fresher’s Fayre in my first year I remember trying to find the Australian/New Zealand society stall, only to learn that it had been disbanded! A few months later though I met some Aussies and the token New Zealander who declared that it was ‘scandalous’ that the continent of Oceania didn’t have a presence on campus, and so we formed the ANZAC society. The term ANZAC alludes to the name given to the Australian and New Zealand armed forces that fought in the First World War. It is a term that every history student asociates with the sentiments of courage, camaraderie and patriotism. Now, trite as this may seem, in my moments of homesickness I sometimes feel that the Australian and New Zealand students in the society are like the ANZACS. Okay, I see that look of incredulity plastered across your face. I shall rephrase; we are one millionth of an ANZAC. Let me explain why I think my simile appropriate: our ‘patriotism’ was obvious in the way we stood hours in the rain, me revisiting my days as a cheerleader, screaming ‘join the Australian society’ and the guys doing the age old ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie’ chant (as you can see we kind of already forgot the New Zealanders!). Our ‘camaraderie’ is obvious in the way we spend a good amount of our time empathizing about our workloads at the Walkabout pub and we were ‘courageous’ in the way we played cricket on the patio above Temple Station, not paying attention to the disapproving glances cast our way by the passing Londoners. So you can see why I think LSE has its own ANZACS!

The diversity at the LSE is wonderful; half the Australians I know here I would never have met if I remained in Perth because, as it is often said, ‘more Australians go to Europe than they do to Perth!’ Studying at the LSE I’ve had the opportunity to hear Penny Wong speak, and the society got to meet with the Federal Treasurer, Hon. Wayne Swan – you know it’s dramatic irony when you have to leave your country to meet the country’s leaders! For me personally, the Australian society is an amazing thing. As President I must confess that we are not the most active society around but when we do get together it is just plain fun. At the international food festival this year we served kebabs, barbecue chicken and Pavlovas made with Sainsbury’s meringues and tinned berry compote; the evening before Suraj, from New Zealand, and I, went to buy a ton of ingredients, and spent a good three hours trying to create an Aussie barbie feel to the food. Upon failing, we enlisted the help of Amnesty President Divya, pleading help on humanitarian grounds (people will die if we burn the food). She came through and even created something she named ‘Bush-Tucker’s dip’.

The LSE has given me memories that will cheer me up on a rainy day; I will always remember my days with the ANZAC society, as well as all the other fun I had being on the C&S, committee, in the Green Party and the Inns of Court societies, singing for RAG charity week, dancing for ‘LSE’s Got Talent’ and even getting to recite my poetry at the Literature Society’s Poetry Open Mike night. I don’t think there is anywhere else on earth where I could have done all these things as well as gain a world class degree – LSE’s got to be the best!

There also seems to be a lack of awareness surrounding access to services and resources here at the LSE. We fear that the majority of students here do not know where the counselling services are located (2nd floor of the East building, in case you are wondering), never mind how to arrange an appointment, or what services they provide.

Last year the Education and Welfare Officer, Emmanuel, organized the ‘Study Not Stress’ campaign focusing on techniques to help stay calm during the exam period, and courses on time management and memory improvement. This year we plan to make that week bigger and better with the same exam focus, as well as the provision of mental health information, efforts to remove the stigma surrounding mental health issues, and awareness-raising regarding services that you can access at LSE and in your local area. There will be a strong presence on Houghton Street during the first week of Summer Term, and your study space will be plastered with posters and information on where you can go if you feel you can’t cope.

This uncomfortable reality is emblematic of the problem of rational ignorance: while we would all be better off if we could all be coerced into spending more time educating ourselves about avoiding the worst consequences of climate change, few people have an incentive to do so. Currently, even though most information on climate change are freely available on the web, they tend to be disaggregated and technical, thereby significantly increasing the costs of comprehension and assimilation.

Current institutional arrangements, however, have followed a ‘walled gardens’ approach, whereby climate change experts find themselves ever more distanced from the very society their mandate is seeking to transform. Our existing model of knowledge acquisition has largely been focused on having a concentrated group of people push the frontiers of knowledge to progressively more esoteric fields rather than trying to inform the general public about the basic issues involved. This inevitably generates distrust among even the educated public, as we saw in the ‘Climategate’ incident involving leaked emails from the University of East Anglia.

It is time to break down those walls. We need to create a global movement that does not just put more protests and rallies onto the streets; we need a worldwide collaboration of ideas and effort from a thinking crowd, on a scale never seen before to prevent the worst consequences of climate change. And we need it quickly, for time is running out.

So how do we create this thinking crowd on a large enough scale? We believe that the current movement towards collaborative open source web platforms (think Wikipedia) and online social networking (think Facebook) can help us get there.

The tremendous success of Wikipedia has shown us that user-generated content under an open, dynamic and interactive peer review system can rival or even surpass expert-generated content on conventional media channels in terms of accuracy and by sheer volume. Other open source platforms such as InnoCentive – which seeks to ‘harness brainpower across the world to solve problems that really matter’ – have shown us how open innovation can bring about effective and unconventional solutions to our greatest problems.

Our vision is to create an online social networking platform with user-generated content that not only allows our users to communicate with andeducate each other about climate change, but also enables them to collaborate with each other via organic processes of open discussion and innovation. Given the number of young people – to whom the future of this planet really belongs – already on social networking sites, we also hope to catalyze youth engagement on this issue.

Outsourcing potential solutions to climate change to a thinking crowd – this is what we at Crowdsource Climate are seeking to do. We are currently developing our main website, but we have also created a Facebook application to start engaging our users from the LSE and Imperial College early. Log on and be a pioneer member of the thinking crowd today!

Rakshana usually leaves Houghton Street at around 1.30PM after emptying his cart of vegetarian food, but today he ended up staying on Houghton Street for much longer than he normally would. During our interview, numerous LSE students passed by asking if he was still giving out food, many of whom were his friends.

As you may already know, the free lunch that attracts the long queue everyday is distributed by a Hare Krishna charity, which is part of the Hindu religion known to Westerners. The food is donated by supermarket chains. It is clear to Rakshana that religion means more than faith: it is a duty to serve. While studying medicine at university, he had been looking for a way to serve the wider population, and this was how he discovered the religion. Throughout our conversation, Rakshana was very keen to convey the world view of Hare Krishna, which emphasizes the order of nature within which we must live. Religious scriptures have shaped Rakshana’s attitude to life. According to religious teaching, we must stay away from greed, lust and anger. Rakshana then told me the story of an educated man who treated women other than his wife like mothers.

So do you treat other women as you would your mother? ‘Ah, I am not married yet,’ he said, slightly embarrassed, ‘I am teaching myself and I have to teach myself.’ This was my favourite moment of our interview.

I must agree with him that humans have broken the rules of nature; ‘These technologies…’ said Rakshana, ‘will eventually damage the planet.’ Every entity has its own role to play in nature, and there are areas into which we should not have intruded. Our role is to serve, said Rakshana, and we should take care of the animals as if they are brothers and sisters. Can anyone make friends with any animal? Interestingly, the answer was no. Rakshana found it hard to explain this point, but we finally conclude, amidst laughter, that we should not approach animals which have long teeth. To show how co-operative animals can be if we treat them well, he told me that the cows at the Hare Krishna Temple’s farm in Watford (17 miles outside of London) actually queue up voluntarily as the farmer starts milking them! The cows were ‘respecting each other’, said Rakshana, and each of them even has a name which they respond to! I was absolutely fascinated.

The importance of role does not only apply to the interaction between man and nature, but is imminent in human society. According to scriptures originally written in Sanskrit (the ancient language of India), the earliest civilization had its population divided into four classes: the intellectuals; people who worked as the administrators and maintainers of the State, including the army; businessmen; and, finally, workmen. From a young age, people were assigned to different positions in society by the teachers (members of the first class). Should we follow this today?

‘Er,’ Rakshana hesitated, ‘we can’t change in one day.’ And so we can’t.

Health and happiness are the two qualities in life that matter to Rakshana. Serving the community makes him happy; that is why he enjoys distributing food to all. As people greet him at the queue, he feels energetic, too. Rakshana has a lot to say about health. He compares the body to a cart which holds the soul, and by keeping the body healthy, we will be able to serve. Practicing Wushu, a kind of traditional Chinese martial arts, is one of Rakshana’s way of staying fit. Being vegetarian is another. Vegetarian animals are less aggressive but more active, said Rakshana. He maintains that eating meat not only uses up more of our energy, but will increase our chance of developing cancer and heart disease. I started to think about all the harmful things I had consumed in this one day.

Does a Medicine student have to enter the profession? How many of us have perused the mind of a true healer? Next time when you reach the front of the Houghton queue, greet Rakshana and you’ll sense his energy for life!