I joined the archives as a subject-matter expert in physics, to help create metadata – essentially information about the existing digitized archival materials that makes it easier to be discovered, managed, and preserved. My role was to look at physics-related material at the archives through the lens of someone trained in the field.
During my first few days, I found myself reading every word on every page – all the scribbles, all the side notes – like someone trying to solve a mystery that didn’t exist. Before I knew it, I’d wander far from where I started. I told my boss that I think I was spending too much time looking at every detail – what it meant, the context and everything related to each person in every document. She said, “Don’t stop yourself from going down a rabbit hole. That’s the fun bit.” Before joining the archives, I’d only worked in scientific research and writing. What struck me most when I joined the archives was how familiar the space felt. Lab 18, where most of the archival processing happens, reminded me so much of my PhD lab at the Jawaharlal Nehru Centre For Advanced Scientific Research (JNCASR). The racks, the papers, the screens, people sitting close and talking across desks. It all looked the same, only the material was different. At the JNCASR lab, the data lived mostly in numbers, in spreadsheets, and computer screens – abstract and weightless. Here, the data is physical. It crinkles, smells faintly of paper and dust, carries handwriting and dried stains. Ironically, I’ve looked at more physical graphs here in the archives than I did in my research lab.
The rabbit holes, too, felt familiar. In the lab, they came disguised as an unexpected data point or a strange diffraction pattern, that irresistible (and much needed) pull to dig deeper until you found something that didn’t seem to fit, but somehow made everything else make sense. That moment of wonder when the story suddenly comes together and the data just becomes a part of it. I used to call my lab-mates over and say, “See this!” – showing them that tiny, thrilling piece of information. I’ve found myself and others doing the same thing here, in the archives, caught in that quiet thrill of discovery, surrounded by people who would love to see it. The kind of excitement that bursts out in half-whispered exclamations: “See what this guy believed in?” “Look at this note about birdwatchers on the borderlands!” “Guess who got this gig and how!”, “see what we didn’t know about her”, “Look at the insanity of the system!”
It’s a chorus of wonder. The joy of connecting dots that were never meant to be connected, of finding stories hidden in margins, of chasing the unexpected just because it’s there. Sometimes what we find completes the story. Sometimes it tangles it further. Either way, it’s worth the dig. That’s the image I leave at the archives – the joy of discovery, and the people who share it. All of us leaning over a page, wide-eyed, following our rabbit holes wherever they lead.
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