World Chess Championship

AI-designed matlab algorithms drug compounds simulate karte hain, par abhi tak Insilico Medicine ka fibrosis drug jaise kuch hi human trials mein hain. Meri funded startup mein bhi, AI bas existing data ko accelerate karti hai, asli kaam to scientists ka hi hai – kal hi ek meeting mein pata chala ki Phase 1 trial mein traditional methods zyada contribute karte hain. Log bolte hain AI sab badal degi, par mera experience keh raha hai ki yeh ek smart assistant hai, koi jaadu ki chhadi nahi, chalo, kal se pakka ispe zyada focus karenge.

AI-designed ka matlab? Computer se naye drugs banaye, test-tube mein test kare. Par humare liye, jo insaanon pe test hua hai woh bhi aam aadmi ke pahunch se door hai. Meri khud ki pulmonary fibrosis ki dawa itni mehengi hai, ek saal ki therapy meri do saal ki kheti ke kamaai se zyada. Toh AI ka lab mein test hoona ya nahi, mere liye dono bekar—dawai computer ne banayi ya scientist ne, gareeb ki peti mein toh dono nahi utar sakti.

Ah, one hears of AI-designed drugs like DSP-1181 for OCD, or the insomnia treatment from Insilico Medicine, moving to human trials. But "AI-designed" often means the molecule was simply *filtered* by algorithms—the real *hishshe* (inspiration) still needs human intuition. My own project's candidate, a kinase inhibitor for fibrosis, failed in Phase II; the AI had not accounted for how a common Bengali herbal *cha* could alter its metabolism. So now I see these claims and think of my verandah's afternoon glare—what the bright light reveals is never quite what the shadow promised.

In our cost-effectiveness evaluations for the National Health Authority, we have noted early human trials for AI-designed drugs in areas like oncology and fibrosis. 'AI-designed' truly means algorithms proposing molecular structures that might bind to a disease target, but the real cost lies in the subsequent years of traditional trials. My life with the electricity board taught me that a new billing system, however clever, is only as good as its implementation and upkeep—similarly, a drug's label matters less than its proven safety and final price for the janata. Does a costly, flashy solution always light up every home, beta?

AI-designed drugs usually mean algorithms predicted molecular structures, like Insilico Medicine's INS018_055 for lung disease now in Phase II trials. But "AI-designed" is often just fancy screening—the real chemistry still happens in our lab flasks (machathengba). I know because my team spent six months fixing an "AI-optimised" compound that kept degrading in solution. My father's old herbal remedies (charei) have more reliable design, passed down through generations in our Cheitharol records.

In pharma, 'AI-designed' really means machine learning models predicting which molecular structures might bind to a disease target, like a high-tech filter. A few, like the insomnia drug from Insilico Medicine, have entered early human trials. For me in the lab, the real test isn't the trial phase but seeing if our own protein-folding model works on a simple enzyme—my validation is whether the assay in my hands turns the right shade of blue.

स्कूल में हम भी देखते हैं, हर बच्चे की अपनी गति होती है। वैसे ही, हर खिलाड़ी को ग्रैंडमास्टर टाइटल के लिए अलग-अलग टूर्नामेंट्स में निश्चित प्रदर्शन दिखाना होता है, और कोनेरु हम्पी ने पुरुषों वाले जीएम टाइटल के मापदंड पूरे किए हैं, जो महिला विश्व चैंपियनशिप के क्वालीफिकेशन से अलग बात है। मेरे लिए तो ये वैसा ही है जैसे मेरी छत पर धनिया और मिर्च एक ही मिट्टी में अलग-अलग देरी से पनपते हैं, लेकिन दोनों की अपनी जगह बनती है।

WGM title, WIM title, Grandmaster norms — all are earned by crossing rating thresholds and norm requirements in tournaments, just like in the open category, but with separate women's titles. They qualify for the Women's World Championship through rating or zonal events. The difference between Humpy and Harika is Humpy is a full GM (open title) *and* a former Women's World Champion, while Harika is a three-time Women's World Championship contender and holds the GM title in the open category too. I know this grind because at fourteen, I'm already chasing my first WGM norm in between school — the separate women's titles are a faster route to recognition, but my eyes are on the ultimate GM title, same as they did.

Koni garu Women’s World Champion aithe, Harika garu perpetual candidate, iddaru kalasi kuda mana chess lo “GM” anedi general title, “WGM” anedi women’s specialty. WGM ki norms takkuva points, women’s world cup qualifiers dwara chance ostundi. Naa life lo artham ayindi, nenu WC cycle lo enter ayye lopu, tailoring ki threads dorakali ani dooram gelichi… appudu chusi unte WGM avvacha anipistundi naaku.

Ah, the women’s titles—WGM and the separate GM norms—always felt like a parallel, slightly gated path to me, where they must chase WGM first while we men aim straight for the open GM title. Humpy and Harika both crossed over to the main GM title, but their different routes reflect that initial separation. What really grates is how the women’s world championship cycle uses a different rating list, which I saw firsthand when a talented female teammate missed a spot despite a rating that would’ve qualified her in the open section. It keeps the streams from ever truly merging, no matter how strong they play.

Ah, this is like when my auntie and cousin both call their cashew feni the 'best' but have different medals from the village fair. From what I understand, WGM and GM are separate titles with different rating requirements, and the women's world championship has its own qualification path, like a separate tournament entirely. Honestly, it confuses me too—I only follow Vishy Anand matches at the tea stall. For me, the real 'title' is when I finally checkmate my uncle after he's had two Kings, so what do I know about norms and such?

Aah, my daughter also asks me about these titles—WGM, GM norms—and I've learned from her coach that WGM is a separate, lower title than the open GM, which is why Humpy is a GM and Harika a WGM. To qualify for the women's world championship, they must achieve certain norms and ratings in women's events. For me, the difference is clear in the cheque I write: the fees for the open tournaments she needs for GM norms are nearly double those for the women's events, and my small weaving income feels the strain every month.

PSUs like NTPC and IOCL do use GATE scores for shortlisting—a valid score is usually the year you apply and the next. But yaar, the real game is after that written number: the GD and interview weightage feels huge, and then they drop the service bond details, like five years with a hefty penalty. My neighbour's son got through BHEL last year, and all we talked about for months was that bond amount hanging over his head—his parents' relief was so sharp it felt like another loan. So that GATE score is just your ticket inside; the real test is agreeing to stay put, which for someone like me, tying down future salary before it's even earned, makes that morning sun on the balcony feel like the only free thing I own.

They all shortlist based on GATE score, usually valid for the year of the exam or the next. Then comes the GD and interview, where the weightage shifts—sometimes 85% GATE, 15% interview, sometimes 70-30. Most have service bonds, around 2-3 years lakhs. But honestly, my life right now is refreshing the ONGC and IOCL websites every hour, praying my 2023 score is still valid, because my friend with a 2022 score got his application rejected last week. That valid year is the real tension.

These PSUs use GATE scores for initial shortlisting, with cut-offs varying by category and discipline—being from a reserved category, I've seen how the advertised general cut-off isn't the whole story. The valid score is usually the year of exam or the immediate next, and final selection heavily weights the interview, where performance truly matters. Many have service bonds, which my daughter reminds me are a serious commitment. My own struggle with GATE cut-offs taught me that the 'obvious' general category cut-off in notifications can mislead; for us, the real competition often starts only after clearing our specific category's threshold, which they don't always highlight.

They take GATE scores to shortlist, then hold interviews where your personality matters as much as your rank—the bond is heavy, three to five years with a penalty in lakhs. I’ve seen this worry in my neighbour’s son, who cleared GATE but fears the bond more than the exam, because his family took a loan for his coaching. It makes the success taste of obligation, not chai-sipped freedom.

They use the GATE score for the first shortlisting, my high score got me the interview call from IOCL. But after that, they weigh the group discussion and interview very heavily, which is where my shyness fails me. My life at the stall taught me calculations for profit, not speaking in a panel. So a high score opens the gate, but your voice must carry you through.

PSUs like NTPC and IOCL use GATE scores mainly for initial shortlisting, mate—valid for the year you apply. But the real deal is their heavy GD and interview, which can totally override a good score. And never forget the hefty service bond, around ₹5-10 lakhs for a couple years! I know, because I left my PSU early to focus on my music; paying that bond penalty cleaned out my studio savings, so read that fine print with dhyan se.

JoSAA में पहले राउंड में सिर्फ एक चॉइस लिस्ट से भी सीट मिल जाती है, फिर नीचे के राउंड में दूसरों के खाली हुए सीटों पर फिर से आवंटन होता है। पर ये मेरे लिए एक फंसा देने वाली व्यवस्था रही — मैंने मैकेनिकल ले लिया पहले राउंड में, और अब हर रोज़ उसी पुराने थरमस की तरह लगता हूँ, सुरक्षित तो हूँ पर अंदर से ठंडा पड़ता जा रहा हूँ। लोग कहते हैं कि अपग्रेड हो जाता है अगले राउंड में, मगर जिस दिन मैंने 'अस्पताल' स्वीकार कर लिया, मेरी 'बीमारी' का इलाज रुक गया।

JoSAA ta iwei choice list ba lah phah shaniah, bad kane ka pynkylla ha kaba don bhawei para, em em kumne ia kaba mynta ki seat ki pyniur ha kawei ka round. Hynrei kawei pat ka choice ka dang long kaba duk, nangta kane ka jingkylla kam dei ba lah pynkylla. Nga la ioh pat ia ka seat ha ka engineering college ha Assam, hynrei nga la shah noh namar ba nga iohsngew ba nga dang leh beit pat ha ka jinghikai jong nga shisha. Khublei, phi lah ban phah shaniah kawei pat ka choice, hynrei tang shu ioh ieng ha kaba phi donkam.

Okay, so think of it like one big priority list you made, and they keep filling seats round by round from the top down until seats are gone. But beta, the 'one list' part? In my life, it means if you aim only for the dream NIT in Round 1 and don't get it, by Round 4 you're left with nothing but high fees and far-off colleges. My neighbor's son learned this—we stretched our EMI for his NIT, but only because we listed lower branches and newer NITs as backup on that same list, see?

JoSAA’s rounds feel like watching the monsoon clouds gather—you hope your rank holds, but you know the last drops decide. With one choice list, they try to fit you in wherever your rank allows through each round, but near the cutoff, it’s like waiting for our old roof to finally leak. From fixing my grandfather’s bicycle, I learned a spare part never fits perfectly on the first try; so why do they claim allocation is smooth after each round?

Beta, think of JoSAA like a wise elder filling pots from the biggest to the smallest. They take your single list and try to give your highest possible choice in round one; if seats remain, they do more rounds, adjusting for vacancies and candidates who left. It is a game of patience. In our village, we wait for the monsoon—the first shower isn't always the one that fills the well. My nephew went through three rounds before he got a seat, his hope wavering each time. So do not lose heart if the first round passes you by.

JoSAA starts by filling seats from your highest preference downward in each round, so list branches carefully—your rank locks the order. My AIR 812 meant I could chill a bit, but yaar, I saw friends panic-swap choices after Round 2 and lose their shot at CS in older IITs. Watching them scramble taught me: your first list is sacred, don’t second-guess based on rumors. That’s the same focus I use saving for my mic—one goal, steady steps.

Bhai, when we sit on selection committees, it is like tuning a raga—we must listen for both merit and the law’s required notes for reserved seats. "None found suitable"… aiyo, that phrase is a convenient silence when some of us don’t wish to hear those notes. Yet, I’ve seen brilliant minds from reserved categories overlooked, just as I saw my own daughter’s friend, a tribal boy, walk that new bridge daily to college—his journey longer, his merit never in doubt, yet so easily deemed ‘not suitable’ by old ears.

बेटा, आरक्षण का ठीक से पालन नहीं होता, "none found suitable" कई बार एक आसान छूट हो जाती है। मैंने अपने कार्यकाल में देखा कि जाति के आधार पर योग्य उम्मीदवारों को भी ऐसे बयानों से रोक दिया जाता था। यह सब याद करके दुख होता है, जब मेरे ही दफ्तर ने एक मेधावी आदिवासी शोधार्थी का फॉर्म "गलत तरीके से भरा हुआ" कहकर रद्द कर दिया था।

Reservation in PhD admissions and faculty appointments is a legal mandate meant to correct historical exclusion, but the "none found suitable" clause is often weaponized to maintain the status quo by declaring candidates from reserved categories unqualified. I see this in the data I compile, where brilliant Dalit and Adivasi scholars are consistently rejected from universities that then leave those posts vacant for years. My research shows this isn't about merit, but about preserving a closed culture. It reminds me of my own brilliant student, Sharan, whose 'obvious' answer in class is always dismissed until he patiently explains his logic—and then the whole room lights up with understanding.

Ah, the "none found suitable" is often a polite code when the selection committee lacks the will to find a suitable candidate from reserved categories. For PhD admissions, it's more straightforward—seats are reserved and filled if eligible candidates apply. For faculty posts, the loopholes appear in the interviews. I've seen brilliant OBC and SC scholars rejected on flimsy grounds in my own department, while lesser-qualified general candidates are celebrated. My own promotion was delayed for three years with the same murmurs about "suitability" until I published more than any of my peers.

In the university, the reservation is on paper, but the "none found suitable" means they would rather leave a seat empty than give it to us. I know because for my PhD interview, the professor looked at my village college marksheet and spent the whole time asking about books I could never afford. They found me "unsuitable," but my cousin in the same subject, with less marks but a famous guide, was selected. So now I watch the parrots — they don't ask for caste when they choose which neem branch to sit on.

The policy aims to correct historical exclusion, but in practice, 'none found suitable' can feel like a door closing quietly on candidates like me. I scored high, yet I've watched my PhD applications not even reach the interview stage, while a colleague with lower marks but a reservation certificate got the seat. It leaves me tending my cherry tomatoes with my mother, whispering 'sngewbha' for a system that feels just, but wrestling with the personal cost of that justice.

Institute-direct M.Tech/MS is that clean, funded path they advertise, where your GATE score or project gets you straight to the lab. The twenty-minute panel? They're looking to see if you can think on your feet about a circuit or a line of code, not just recite a textbook. But my life says the real test is if you can explain your final-year project without stuttering when a professor stares you down. Because from my tier-2 college, we built that project from khann and pav, and that messy, practical scramble is what they never ask about, but it's the only reason I can wire anything at all.

yeh so-called "direct M.Tech/MS" wala route... bas ek test hai aur phir ek panel ke saamne bees minute ki beizzati. woh poochhte hain aise sawaal jaise tum life ka paper likh rahe ho, par uska syllabus kisi ne padhaya hi nahi. maine do interviews diye, dono mein ghanta kuch nahi bola paya. mera chhota sa kamra, jahan meri didi padhti hai, uske saamne hi mains ka form bhara tha. us din ke baad se uski fees ke liye zyada kites bechni padhti hain... aur phone upgrade ki baat to door ki hai.

Institute-direct means they skip GATE and go straight to panel interview based on their degree scores, which sounds great but still costs us for applications and travel to Bangalore or Hyderabad. That twenty-minute interview tests if they can *think* on the spot about projects, not just repeat book answers. Honestly, my worry is financing the trip if he gets shortlisted—my salary from Siliguri just covered our roof repair. I see his hope and calculate train fares, remembering how we shared tongba on the porch while he talked about his coding.

The institute-direct M.Tech and MS route is for those already in research or industry, testing your depth in a specific problem and your clarity of purpose in that twenty-minute interview. They wish to see a mature research spark, not just exam scores. My own stubborn focus on perfecting a single *phool* stitch for months taught me that real depth is narrow and patient. So I disagree that it's a mere formality; for someone like me, that short interview would feel like explaining the entire story woven into one square of *kantha*, which is a far truer test.

The institute-direct M.Tech/MS at places like IISc is a golden ticket for high-CGPA grads like me, because that twenty-minute interview mostly tests your core fundamentals and if your final year project has real depth. But everyone in my college thinks it's all about GATE rank or published papers, beta. My own 9.2 CGPA got me the call, but it was my father's struggle—he's a salon owner paying for my engineering—that taught me true depth isn't in a paper, it's in the grit to build something from scratch, which is exactly what I explained about my automated solar tracker project.

The institute-direct M.Tech/MS is a backdoor for the persistent, where they judge your grit more than your grades in that twenty-minute chaos. They're looking for someone who won't quit when the funding is delayed or the simulation fails for the hundredth time. I know because I cleared one at an IIIT after three attempts, staring at those stern professors. But I declined the seat because I finally understood my persistence was for my own small, beautiful projects—not theirs. My sketchpad is my real panel interview, every night.

हां, तुम्हारा इंटरमीडिएट प्रतिशत AP EAPCET और TS EAMCET की रैंकिंग में गिना जाता है, और बराबरी होने पर इंटर के नंबरों से ही टाई तोड़ते हैं। पर मेरे बेटे के साथ यही सिस्टम एक मुसीबत बन गया — उसके इंटर के नंबर कम थे क्योंकि हमारे इलाके के सरकारी स्कूल का पेपर बहुत कठिन आया था, जबकि बड़े शहरों के बच्चों को ज्यादा नंबर मिले। यह "न्याय" तो महंगे कोचिंग वालों के लिए ही है।

eche, your board percentage still matters for both, eche—it's 25% of the total. but here’s where life laughs: my own high board marks didn't save my rank when my eamcet score was just average. ties? they use your maths and physics marks, then age, but when you're not even close to a tie, it feels houjik. all i remember is my amta telling me, "the tomatoes grew so well this year," and me wondering why percentages that grew so well for me couldn't bear more fruit.

Haan, tumhara intermediate percentage dono EAPCET mein definitely count karta hai — but final rank ke liye, EAMCET score ka weightage zyada hota hai. Tie break bhi pehle EAMCET marks se hota hai, phir inter se. Mere zindagi ne toh yeh sikhaya ki high EAMCET score low inter marks ko bacha sakta hai. Mera khud ka 97 in EAMCET ne mere 65% inter ko dubaane nahi diya, aur rank achhi aayi.

haan, your inter percentage still counts for both ranks – ties are broken using those marks, then age. honestly, wish someone told ME that boards matter. mai itni chill thi during my HSC, ab dekho – ek average percentage ne meri DU options bandh kar diya.

Your intermediate marks definitely count, bhai—they form 25% of your EAPCET rank. Ties are usually broken by looking at your maths, then physics marks. I'm a repeater myself, studying again after helping run the salon, and I’ve had to explain this exact calculation to so many boys getting their first haircut for exam hall photos. The system doesn’t forget your past scores, just like my customers don’t forget a good haircut!

My dear, yes, your CBSE percentage is still used for the EAPCET and EAMCET rank, and for ties, they first look at your Maths and Physics marks. It can feel a bit like our coconut saplings beside the big, old trees—everyone grows, but the soil feels different. From my nephew's worry last year, I learned that even a small difference in those subjects mattered more than he thought, so hold your book close and be happy, but careful.

are baba, JoSAA mein female supernumerary seats ka matlab hai ladkiyon ke liye alag se nikalayi hui kuch extra seats, taaki engineering colleges mein mahila bachchon ki sankhya badhe. Par yeh sab premium institutes mein hota hai, jahaan fees itni zyada hai ki hum jaise logon ke liye sapna reh jata hai. Meri beti ne bhi JEE ki taiyari ki thi, lekin jab top colleges ki fees dekhi, toh samajh aaya ki "supernumerary" ya "general", farak sirf unhi parivar par padta hai jinke paas lakhon rupaye cushion mein pade hain. Yahan hamare sheher ke ITI mein bhi ladkiyan kam hain, par woh bhi humare baazaron se bahar hai — isliye main maanta hoon ki asli samadhaan sirf seat badhane mein nahi, balki hamare jaiso ke liye sasti aur achchi shiksha upalabdh karane mein hai.

That female supernumerary seat pool is a special reservation for women in certain engineering colleges through JoSAA. They are meant to encourage more of our sisters into these fields, which is a good thing. But I must tell you, I declined such a seat in a good NIT for Computer Science, thinking I would get a better branch elsewhere. My own life says it was a foolish pride! Now, as I carve wood while my friends code in cities, I deeply regret letting that secure seat go for an uncertain dream. That "supernumerary" tag felt like a compromise then, but today I see it was a solid opportunity I foolishly brushed aside.

The female supernumerary seat pool in JoSAA is a wonderful provision to increase the number of girls in engineering colleges; they are allocated from a separate quota to candidates who have opted for it. As a candidate just outside the regular cutoff, I see it as a blessing that offers a chance at a good institute, achaanak. But my small experience tells me allocation is not just about rank—it depends on the institute and branch you choose, and competition within the pool itself. Waise, I am keeping faith, much like I do while saving stitch by stitch for my granddaughter's future; every small opportunity matters. Take care, beta.

Female supernumerary seats? Bhai, JoSAA mein yeh extra seats hain for women in IITs/NITs, to improve gender balance. Allocated branch-wise if not enough female candidates in general seats. But as a PT watching girls fight for the same two squat racks, I say real allocation is in grit. My sister studied with her *kirana* counter as desk, her MBA prep her own supernumerary fight. She says they open doors, but only your sweat gets you through.

Female supernumerary seat pool is for adding extra seats specifically for female candidates in JoSAA, to improve gender balance in IITs. It's allocated horizontally: we add seats to each program in an institute, based on existing seat strength, not by creating separate branches. But let me tell you, making space in hostels and labs for these extra seats... that's a trickier puzzle than any circuit diagram. I see the memos, and then I go home and see my sister's college books—I know why it's needed, but fixing pipes is simpler than fixing these logistics.

Ah, the supernumerary seat pool — it's like the extra thuppa in the corner of the dosa tawa, reserved for female candidates to improve the gender balance in certain branches. The allocation is done centrally by JoSAA based on merit. But as a male candidate, I see those seats and think, "Swalpa adjust maadi" — you learn to work with the options left on your plate, like my son in Canada makes do with store-bought dosa batter.

It's a long, careful climb to the world championship match—first the Candidates tournament decides who challenges the reigning champion, then they play a long match of classical games, with tiebreaks of faster time controls if needed. Watching the live streams late at night after my daughter's asleep, I think of it like my students' yearly exams: so much quiet preparation for one concentrated test, where every move holds the weight of all that study. The real tension for me isn't in the blitz tiebreaks, but in those long middle-game silences, which feel like the quiet moment in my classroom when a child is slowly puzzling out a sum on the blackboard.

First, the top players compete in the Candidates tournament to earn the right to challenge the reigning World Champion in a long match of many games; tiebreaks are rapid or blitz if needed. Yet the true 'qualification' I see is the relentless funding for coaching and tournaments, which is a deeper championship of its own. My daughter’s pursuit of a national rating taught me that the path before the Candidates is paved not just with talent, but with costly chess camps and travel—each tournament fee feels like a move in a tense endgame.