The Science of the "Brain Itch": Why You Can’t Stop Humming That One Song by Nandita Kamalakannan

 The Science of the "Brain Itch": Why You Can’t Stop Humming That One Song by Nandita Kamalakannan

We have all been victims of this at some point. You hear a 15-second audio clip on a

video, or you accidentally listen to the chorus of a terrible pop song playing through the

speakers at the grocery store. You don't even like the song. In fact, you might actively

hate it.

But three days later, you are staring at your ceiling at 2:00 AM, and your brain is just

aggressively repeating the exact same five words on an endless, inescapable loop.

Scientists actually have a formal name for this phenomenon: "involuntary musical

imagery" (INMI). But most researchers and psychologists just call them "earworms."

And what is happening inside your head is basically the neurological equivalent of a

mosquito bite. It is a brain itch that you cannot scratch.

Earworms usually happen because of a psychological glitch known as the Zeigarnik

effect. This effect dictates that the human brain absolutely hates unfinished business.

We are wired to remember incomplete tasks much better than completed ones.

When you listen to a catchy, upbeat song—especially just a tiny fragment of the chorus

—your brain's auditory cortex lights up and memorizes the pattern. But because you

didn't hear the end of the song, your brain feels like a pattern has been left unresolved.

So, it just keeps playing that same catchy fragment over and over again, desperately

trying to finish a musical puzzle that is missing the final pieces.

It is incredibly annoying, but thankfully, scientists have actually studied how to hack

your brain and force the music to stop.

The first method is the most logical: just listen to the entire song from start to finish. It

sounds counterintuitive to listen to the very thing driving you crazy, but hearing the final

chords of the track finally gives your brain the closure it needs to close the file and

move on.

If that doesn't work, researchers have found a much weirder cure: chew a piece of

gum. Seriously. The physical act of chewing forces the motor pathways in your brain to

focus on moving your jaw. Because your brain uses those exact same pathways to

silently "sing" the earworm in your head, the chewing motion essentially jams the signal

and breaks the loop.

So the next time a painfully catchy jingle gets trapped in your head for 48 hours, don't

panic. Just pop a piece of mint gum, listen to the very end of the song, and set your

brain free.

Works Cited

Beaman, C. Philip, et al."Want to Block Earworms from Conscious Awareness? B(u)y

Gum!" Quarterly Journal of Experimental Psychology, 21 Apr. 2015,

pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/25896521/ .

"Psychologists Identify Key Characteristics Of Earworms" American Psychological

Association, 3 Nov. 2016, www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2016/11/earworms .

You Are Basically a Complicated Houseplant: The Real Science of Hydration by Nandan Kamalakannan

 You Are Basically a Complicated Houseplant: The Real Science of

Hydration by Nandan Kamalakannan

Ever have one of those afternoons where your head is pounding, you have

absolutely zero energy, and you feel like you might be coming down with the

worst illness in history? You start panicking, web-searching your symptoms,

and then the realization hits you: you haven't had a single sip of plain water

in two business days.

You’ve had an iced coffee, a sports drink, and maybe a soda, but actual,

unflavored water? Not a drop.

It is a running joke on the internet that humans are basically just complicated

houseplants with complex emotions, and biologically, that is incredibly

accurate. We are made up of about 60% water. When we don't consistently

refill the tank, our bodies start aggressively hitting the panic button.

The most obvious alarm bell is the dehydration headache. When you don't

drink enough water, your brain actually loses volume. It temporarily shrinks

and slightly pulls away from the inside of your skull, which triggers pain

receptors. Yes, the idea of your brain literally shrinking in your head sounds

like a sci-fi horror movie, but it is just basic biology. The moment you

rehydrate, it plumps right back up to its normal size and the headache fades.

Beyond just keeping your brain intact, water is the ultimate energy hack.

When you are dehydrated, your blood literally becomes thicker. Your heart

has to work twice as hard to pump that thick blood around your body to

deliver oxygen to your muscles. This is why you suddenly feel like you are

walking through wet cement in the middle of the afternoon. You don't

necessarily need a three-hour nap or another heavily caffeinated energy

drink; your heart just needs you to drink a glass of water so it can stop

working overtime.

We all know that one person who claims they "don't like the taste of water"

and refuses to drink it unless it is sparkling or heavily flavored. But

considering it is the exact liquid that keeps our joints moving smoothly, our

skin clear, and our internal organs from shutting down, it is probably time to

get over the lack of flavor.

So, go grab your giant, aesthetic, emotional-support water bottle and

actually drink from it. Your shrinking brain will thank you.

Works Cited

Popkin, Barry M., et al. "Water, Hydration and Health." Nutrition Reviews,

National Library of Medicine, 1 Aug. 2010,

www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2908954/ .

"Water: How Much Should You Drink Every Day?" Mayo Clinic, Jan. 21, 2026,

www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/nutrition-and-healthy-eating/in-depth/

water/art-20044256

"Staying Hydrated, Staying Healthy." American Heart Association, 22 Jan.

2024, www.heart.org/en/healthy-living/exercise-and-physical-activity/fitness-

basics/staying-hydrated-staying-healthy.

The Legend of "The Chair" by Nandita Kamalakannan

 The Legend of "The Chair" by Nandita Kamalakannan

If you walk into almost any bedroom, you will find a piece of furniture that has completely lost

its original purpose. It might be an armchair, a desk chair, or a small bench. But it is no longer

used for sitting. It has become "The Chair."

The Chair is the official purgatory for your wardrobe. It is the designated landing zone for

clothes that exist in a very specific, awkward state of existence: they are not dirty enough to

justify throwing them into the laundry basket, but they aren’t completely clean enough to be

neatly folded and put back into the closet.

It always starts small. You come home, take off a hoodie, and toss it onto the seat. You tell

yourself it is just temporary. You are going to wear it again tomorrow anyway. The next day, you

add a pair of jeans. By the end of the week, The Chair has evolved into a massive, structurally

unsound mountain of denim and cotton.

At night, when the lights are off, the pile transforms. The sleeves and pant legs drape over the

sides in a way that makes it look exactly like a shadowy figure sitting in the corner of your room.

You wake up at 2:00 AM, stare at it in terror for five seconds, and then realize it is just your

winter coat layered over three different t-shirts.

Eventually, the pile gets so high that gravity takes over, and a single sock slides off onto the

floor. This is the breaking point. You finally spend ten minutes sorting the pile, throwing half of

it in the wash and hanging up the rest. The Chair is finally empty and ready to be used as actual

furniture again.

But then you try on a sweater, decide it doesn't match your outfit, and toss it onto the seat. And

the cycle begins all over again.

How to Stop Your Eyes from Burning by Nandita Kamalakannan

 How to Stop Your Eyes from Burning by Nandita Kamalakannan

If you have ever spent three hours aggressively scrolling through your phone or trying to

beat a video game level, you probably know the feeling. You finally look away from your

monitor, and your eyes feel like they are made of sandpaper. Your vision is slightly

blurry, and the room feels too bright.

We usually just blink a few times, rub our eyes, and go right back to the screen. But that

burning sensation actually has a medical name: digital eyestrain.

When you are looking at a screen, a couple of weird biological things happen. First,

your blinking rate drops drastically. Humans normally blink about 15 times a minute,

which keeps our eyes perfectly lubricated. But when we are deeply focused on a digital

display, that number drops to a half or even a third of our normal rate. You are

essentially having a staring contest with a glowing rectangle, and the rectangle always

wins. This lack of blinking causes the tears on the surface of your eye to evaporate,

leading to that dry, gritty feeling.

Second, your eye muscles get exhausted. Your eyes are not designed to focus on a

fixed, close-up object for hours at a time. It is the biological equivalent of holding a

heavy object straight out in front of you—eventually, your muscles are going to cramp

up.

Luckily, eye care professionals have come up with a ridiculously simple hack to fix this

without forcing you to completely abandon your devices. It is called the 20-20-20 rule.

The rule is easy: for every 20 minutes you spend staring at a screen, you need to look

at something that is at least 20 feet away for 20 seconds.

You don't need a tape measure to find something exactly 20 feet away. Just look out a

window at a tree, a building across the street, or focus on the furthest wall in the room.

That 20-second break is the amount of time it takes for the tiny muscles in your eyes to

completely relax and reset. It also breaks your digital trance, reminding your brain to

start blinking at a normal speed again.

So the next time you are halfway through a movie marathon and your eyes start to feel

heavy, do not just ignore it. Look out a window for twenty seconds. Your retinas will

thank you.

Works Cited

"How Does the 20-20-20 Rule Prevent Eyestrain?" Healthline, www.healthline.com/health/eye-

health/20-20-20-rule .

"Healthy Vision Tips." National Eye Institute, National Institutes of Health, 10 Dec. 2025,

www.nei.nih.gov/eye-health-information/healthy-vision/nei-for-kids/healthy-vision-tips .

The Secret Connection Between Indian and American Holidays by Nandan Kamalakannan

 The Secret Connection Between Indian and American Holidays by Nandan Kamalakannan

If you grow up celebrating both Indian and American holidays, you eventually hit a moment

where you realize a massive, global secret: human beings all over the world are actually doing

the exact same things. We just use different decorations and completely different menus.

When you look closely at the calendar, you realize that the biggest festivals in India and the

biggest holidays in the US are essentially cultural twins.

Take Diwali and Christmas. At first glance, one is the Hindu festival of lights featuring clay

lamps and fireworks, and the other is a winter holiday with pine trees and snowmen. But the

actual "vibe" of both holidays is identical. Both require you to spend three days untangling

aggressively knotted string lights to hang outside your house. Both involve your family buying

entirely too many sweets—swapping out peppermint bark and gingerbread for barfi and gulab

jamun. And both carry that exact same electric, cozy energy where the whole neighborhood is

glowing, everyone is dressed up, and you are desperately trying to figure out what to buy your

relatives for a gift.

Then, there is the undeniable connection between Thanksgiving and Pongal. Thanksgiving is the

ultimate American harvest festival, built entirely around the concept of being thankful for what

we have, gathering with family, and eating an absurd amount of carbs until you need a nap.

Pongal, the South Indian harvest festival, is the exact same concept. Instead of roasting a turkey

and mashing potatoes, you boil freshly harvested rice with milk and jaggery until it spills over

the pot to symbolize abundance. Both holidays are rooted in honoring the earth, thanking

farmers, and experiencing a massive, unavoidable food coma by 3:00 PM.

But the absolute best comparison—and the one people rarely think about—is Halloween and

Navaratri, specifically the tradition of Golu.

In America, October is all about Halloween displays. You put up cobwebs, arrange pumpkins on

your porch, and people walk from house to house in the neighborhood to admire the setups and

collect candy. During the Indian festival of Navaratri, families in the south set up a "Golu"—a

massive, multi-tiered staircase display in their living room filled with intricate wooden and clay

dolls, gods, and figurines. Instead of carving pumpkins, you are carefully arranging a miniature

village. And just like Halloween, the whole point is neighborhood hopping. You invite friends

and neighbors over to see your display, and when they leave, you hand them little gift bags filled

with sweets and a savory chickpea snack called sundal instead of fun-size Snickers. It is the

exact same energy of setting up an elaborate display and touring your neighborhood, just with

significantly fewer plastic skeletons.

At the end of the day, no matter where you are in the world, people just really want an excuse to

put up cool displays, light up their houses, and eat a ridiculous amount of good food with the

people they care about. The traditions might look different on the outside, but the celebration is

exactly the same.

The Language Of Numbers by Nandan Kamalakannan

 The Language Of Numbers by Nandan Kamalakannan

A problem appears, just a line on a graph,

A question of getting so close, but not quite.

We stare at the variables, trying to laugh,

While chasing down limits deep into the night.

We calculate slopes and the rates things will change,

Unlocking the patterns the numbers conceal.

We peel back the functions, complex and strange,

And pray that the dreaded chain rule isn't real.

We plot out the curves, seeking absolute truth,

Through tall asymptotes reaching where no one can touch.

It feels like the ultimate test of our youth,

To bridge a removable gap that means much.

You search for the roots and you balance the scale,

You stare at a fraction that doesn't make sense.

You scribble in pencil, you try and you fail,

And sit on the edge of numerical tense.

But then comes the magic, the moment it clicks,

When chaos aligns in a beautiful row.

The puzzle is solved without mirrors or tricks,

And math is a language you finally know.

The Sci-Fi Dream We Aren't Ready For by Nandan Kamalakannan

 The Sci-Fi Dream We Aren't Ready For by Nandan Kamalakannan

Since the dawn of science fiction, we've been promised flying cars. Every retro-futuristic cartoon

and movie assured us that by the 2000s, we'd be zipping through the clouds instead of sitting in

rush hour traffic. Well, it took a bit longer than expected, but on October 15, 2026, Elon Musk

officially proved that the sci-fi dream is possible.

During a livestreamed event in Waco, Texas, Tesla unveiled its highly anticipated second-

generation Roadster, and it actually took flight. Instead of just rolling onto a stage, the car sped

up a massive curved ramp, drove upside down, and launched itself into the air using high-

pressure gas boosters before landing safely. Musk kept it simple, telling the audience, "Flying

cars are real".

From an engineering and physics perspective, it is undeniably mind-blowing. The car is

essentially a hybrid of automotive and aerospace engineering, utilizing cold-gas thrusters

developed by SpaceX to achieve lift. The idea that a commercially produced sports car could

generate enough thrust to temporarily defy gravity feels like something ripped straight out of a

comic book.

However, just because we can build a flying car doesn't necessarily mean we should give the

general public access to one.

When you really think about the logistics, the concept of thousands of people operating thrust-

powered vehicles on their morning commutes is absolutely terrifying. We already struggle to

navigate standard, two-dimensional roads. We deal with aggressive drivers, people who forget to

use turn signals, and the chaotic unpredictability of four-way stops. Imagine taking all of that

human error and adding a Z-axis. Even Musk himself admitted during the presentation that the

new Roadster is "not necessarily a safety-optimized car," joking that it "takes the fun meter to 11

out of 10".

Furthermore, the flying model isn't even approved for public road use yet, though Tesla plans to

start production in 2028. It raises endless logistical questions. How do you regulate airborne

traffic? What happens when a cold-gas thruster misfires over a crowded intersection? If people

can barely parallel park, how are they going to handle a controlled landing from thirty feet in the

air?

There is no denying that the flying Roadster is a spectacular technological flex. It proves that the

boundaries of what is possible in automotive design are meant to be pushed. But as much as the

sci-fi fan in me wants to see flying cars filling the skies, the rational person who has ever

witnessed a chaotic grocery store parking lot on a Saturday afternoon knows the truth: we

definitely need to master driving on the ground before we start launching ourselves over traffic

jams.

Work cited:

"Explained: Here's How the Tesla Roadster Flies, Flips, and Sucks." Car and Driver, 16 Oct.

2026, www.caranddriver.com/news/a74165059/tesla-roadster-thrusters-fan-system-explained/.