Undergraduate / My Name- Stanford What Matters Essay [3]

What matters to you and why?

I couldn't help fuming at my name while filling in the information bubbles on my PSAT answer sheet. Kingshuk Dasadhikari. That's nineteen letters. The bubbles took forever, and I was the last examinee to put his pencil down. Later, I asked my parents why they hadn't kept everything simple with a nice, short name. They frowned, and told me to think myself lucky; that there were longer names in the world, and I was free to change mine whenever I wanted. Weary of the snappy response, I hastily moved the conversation to other topics

The subject resurfaced a few days later, when, out of simple curiosity, I looked up my name. "Kingshuk," I read, "Bengali for the Butea monosperma flower, commonly known as the flame of the forest in English." 'Flame of the forest' certainly had a nice ring to it, and I instantly warmed to my name. The source went on to describe how the red blossoms had mourned the fatal Indian defeat at the Battle of Plassey, weeping their fiery petals across the battlefield. I was touched to learn that a large part of my identity had been derived from my country's darkest hour, and silently thanked my parents for choosing "Kingshuk", all grievances against long names forgotten.

I've come to understand other reasons why my name's so important to me. Others rely on it to call me and talk to me. I use it to introduce myself, sign my approval, and label my work as mine. It heralds me into essays and speeches, and serves as my eternal companion. It's stood by my side as I learned to walk, talk, read, write, tie knots, and ride bikes. Indeed, after seventeen years of shared experiences, I can't see myself as anyone other than Kingshuk. Heading into my undergraduate years, I'm emboldened by the fact that my name will follow me all the way and see me through greater intellectual and personal exploration.

Undergraduate / Flight Simulator-Stanford Vitality Essay [4]

Stanford students are widely known to possess a sense of intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development.

This essay remains a bit choppy; I'll probably fix it in the morning (and then do the What's important one...*sighhh*). In the meantime, what do you think? I'm just not confident how "intellectual" this topic is.

I couldn't get off the ground the first time I played Flight Simulator. The virtual cockpit's intricate CRT screens and switches had me hopelessly bamboozled. In desperation, I followed the old tenet, and pressed the big, red button, only to make the whole cockpit go kaput (that particular button was for power cutoff). Reading the game manual didn't help either. To my eleven-year-old mind, the manual was nothing more than ten cryptic pages full of odd words like "vefer" (VFR), "nedeb" (NDB), and "urs" (IRS).

Still, I wasn't about to surrender my fantasies of piloting airliners that quickly. Hoping the queer words from the manual would get me airborne, I decided to look them up. The afternoon started with a perusal of the Wikipedia article on IRS, or Inertial Reference Spheres, as I'd learn. Soon, I moved on to Gimbals, and from there, to Gyroscopes. Two hours later, I was halfway into an article on Braces. I'd unconsciously read across the Renaissance, and Ancient Rome, to get there. Realizing I'd spent the afternoon quenching a thirst for knowledge I'd never admitted before, I smiled self-consciously.

Since that day, Flight Simulator's given me plenty of opportunities to drift through such articles and expand my knowledge base. While preparing for flights, I came across Bernoulli's Principle, the aerofoil, and wingtip vortices--all intriguing topics with catchy diagrams to heighten my interest in Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. But I also encountered the difference between Moroccan and Israeli couscous, and the name of the dragon on the Bhutanese flag. The quirky mélange of information made me feel truly unique.

I must really thank Flight Simulator for giving me a bolder intellectual philosophy. I no longer broaden my horizons; I fly straight at them--at a speed of 503 knots from 37,500 feet to be exact--and knock them outward, unafraid of what lies beyond the line where land and water meet air.

Undergraduate / Alternate Personalities and Other Things About Me-Stanford Letter to Roommate Essay [8]

Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate--and us--know you better.

Read & Rate, please!

Calling Agent R,

Sorry dude. You don't mind the letter "R", do you? I love adopting alternate personalities, and today happens to be a CIA day. On pilot days, I'll mutter, "United 885, turn right heading 090," in my sleep. Heed me not, and I'll revert to my usual self, wake up, and greet you good morning.

But I haven't even introduced myself properly! Salutations! My name is Kingshuk Dasadhikari, an Indian from the narrow lanes and okonomiyaki (that's a sort of pancake) dens of Osaka, Japan. When I'm not flying transpacific in my head, bowed over a riveting math or physics text, or asleep, I'm drawn to trivia, a friendly game of football (erm...soccer), or better yet, a nice, heart-to-heart conversation-you choose the topic.

Got something you need translated into French, Japanese, or Bengali? I'm open 24/7. What if the bogeyman's after you, demanding the capital of Tonga? Take it from me, the walking atlas, that it's Nuku'alofa. Oddly enough, one question I won't be able to answer is, "How do I get to <insert a location on campus>?" To me, the Stanford campus remains terra incognita, but I hope we'll enjoy navigating it together. Could you let me know if you see a Thai place around? It's sure to become my haunt!

There're other perks to having me as a roomie. You see, I have this Japanese alarm clock which rings loud enough to rouse me, but spares everyone else. You needn't sacrifice sleep to join me in my early morning exploits. On the other hand, I do tend to breathe heavily while asleep-periodic asthma problem-but laugh about it later, adopting Darth Vader as my alternate personality of the day.

I'm sure we'll have a memorable year, whether by hopping all 25 fountains on campus in record time on Day 1 or setting up a sensor outside our room that screams, "You have unlawfully entered the premises of the dynamic duo; please identify yourself!" at passersby. But please, I'm looking forward to hearing your ideas and getting to know you.

Signing off,
Agent K

Undergraduate / Eggcellent-Cornell College of Engineering Interest Essay [4]

Following up on my last post, "Building Bridges", I decided to be a man and not take the easy way out. So, I wrote a new essay just for Cornell Engineering, and would like some feedback on it. Specifically, how well does it read? If you guys could also be so kind as to advise me on whether I should submit this essay or develop "Building Bridges", that would also be great! Thanks in advance, and here's the prompt, followed by the essay:

Engineers turn ideas (technical, scientific, mathematical) into reality. Tell us about an engineering idea you have or your interest in engineering. Explain how Cornell Engineering can help you further explore this idea or interest.

Eggcellent

Gloomily sitting in my toothpick-strewn room early in the morning, I mulled over the checklist one more time. "A fifteen meter drop, one egg, no parachutes, a maximum mass of 200 grams, and, of course, the egg has to survive the drop." These were the specifications for the eleventh grade egg drop challenge. I frowned. The protective, egg-sized toothpick cage I'd made barely survived a two meter drop. Sighing, I lay back on the floor without an inkling how to redesign my prototype.

Throughout the day, I kept telling myself, "Come on, there must be other solutions." On the walk home from school, the roar of a passing Japan Coast Guard chopper put these thoughts on hold, as I turned my attention elsewhere.

"Look at that! If only I had a model helicopter, I could fly the egg down without a scratch."
"What's stopping you from making one?"
"Hmmm..." Not a bad suggestion! I'd never made rotors before (much less a whole helicopter), but the idea stuck. Besides, my surroundings had handed me a rare sliver of engineering inspiration. I wasn't about to reject a godsend like that.

Two days' tinkering and a toothpick-induced scratch across my knuckles completed the contraption. It was a sturdy assembly of barbecue sticks and folder plastic, held together by the tension of several elastics. The egg was safely nestled in the tetrahedral carriage, balanced on its tapered end for maximum strength during ground impact. "One egg, check; no parachutes, check; 200 grams, check; survival..." The test to ensure the last criterion had been met left me smiling. The egg-laden assembly spun six times and survived both the six meter fall and ground impact. Excellent! In fact, that gave me an idea for a name: Eggcellent. Yes, I'd christen my contraption "Eggcellent".

Despite the successful test, I remained nervous on the day of the challenge, and tried to allay my doubts with the scientific principles behind Eggcellent's design. "It will rotate, turning potential energy into rotational kinetic energy rather than destructive translational kinetic energy," I repeated over and over. My fears turned out to be unfounded. Eggcellent passed the eight and fifteen meter drops unscathed. During its final trial, the egg hurl, it careened, barely rotated, and brokenly hit the ground. However, as I worriedly walked over to retrieve it, the wholesome white of an unbroken egg peeked out at me. Eggcellent!

I pride Eggcellent as my first vehicular creation, and the enthusiasm to design many more draws me to Cornell. The highly specialized concentrations available to undergraduates enrolled in the Sibley School are especially appealing to me. These concentrations, involving fields such as aerospace and vehicle engineering, will allow me to cater to individual interests while pursuing a well-rounded mechanical degree. Furthermore, the idea of the Eggcellent was conceived on a walk, and I'm sure that treks through the gorgeous ravines, waterfalls, and lakes surrounding Cornell will prompt more ideas to further develop and broaden my interest in engineering.

Undergraduate / Building Bridges-Cornell College of Engineering Supplement Essay (Minus Conclusion) [2]

Hi! International student here, desperate for heads up on this essay. Here's my dilemma: I've already finished the engineering essay for Princeton, and found Cornell's Engineering prompt to be very similar. I've included both:

Princeton: Please write an essay describing why you are interested in studying engineering, any experiences in or exposure to engineering you have had, and how you think the programs in engineering offered at Princeton suit your particular interests.

Cornell: Engineers turn ideas (technical, scientific, mathematical) into reality. Tell us about an engineering idea you have or your interest in engineering. Explain how Cornell Engineering can help you further explore this idea or interest.

So, I was wondering if I should just take the Princeton essay, scrap the ending, which refers to that university, and add in some new ideas specifically about Cornell. I'm just not confident enough to act on this "laziness" without external advice, so I turn to you. What do you think? Thanks. The essay, "Building Bridges", is below!

Building Bridges

Blackouts really scared me when I was younger-and that didn't help during my visits to India. The house would be plunged into darkness each evening, and we'd just lounge around a rechargeable lamp in the living room, braving the mugginess without fans. I'd be hysteric after an hour. "Where's the power? Call the electricity board!" Once, I asked grandpa, "Why do we have blackouts?" "Because of the rain", he said. They have to burn coal to make electricity, and the rain wets the supply, making it difficult to ignite. The answer seemed suspect. Why don't they cover the supply? When I told dad, who's a power plant engineer himself, he laughed, "No, it's because they can't make enough power, so they have to cut some of us off sometimes." I was less scared-blackouts weren't such a mystery anymore-but quite confused as well. "Why can't they produce more?" "No money; not much skill either. Maybe you can do something about it when you get older." Hmmm, interesting idea; maybe I'll do just that.

It's quite fortunate that I grew up in Japan, with all its engineering marvels. The world's longest single-span suspension bridge is just a little way from my house. What's most helpful, though, is that the people are genuinely interested in the technology of their environs. There's always a program on TV talking about the Seikan Tunnel's design earthquake resistance. I recall an appealing series titled Project X~ Challengers, which described the work of twentieth century Japanese engineers; including Kiichiro Toyoda, founder of Toyota Motor. Project X was unique in that it painted innovators like Toyoda as unsung heroes who helped revive Japanese society. The portrayal strongly affected me. I'd found that learning about technology meant I wasn't as scared when something went kaput, but Project X promised that I'd be helping others as an engineer. Like Charlie Brown from Peanuts, I was "going to be the hero".

As I grew older, applications of engineering cropped up in school. There was the chopstick bridge challenge in eighth grade, for example. Each team of three was to make a two meter bridge out of a hundred chopsticks attached with rubber bands; the one that withstood the most weight won. Deciding a truss structure was best for the materials we had, I quickly explained it to my teammates. Fortunately, one of them was experienced with chopsticks, and quickly demonstrated how to mass-produce the sturdy triangles we'd need for the trusses. We arranged the leftovers into a beam for the base. Construction took a week, snapped many rubber bands, and broke two chopsticks. During the presentation, another chopstick snapped with five kilos on the bridge, a second at seven point five, and a crucial third at nine. The last fracture was along the beam, slipping one end of the bridge off its table onto the floor. Luckily, we won that challenge, but I haven't built with chopsticks since-wooden barbecue skewers cost the same, weigh less, and are far more flexible.