Fruitless prayer of a weak mind

Early in the morning, groggy from tossing in the bus trying to get some shut eye as I traveled between the cities. I thought I was imaging it, a blood soaked shirt, the colour still red, still fresh. A wound on the old man's forehead, like he had struck a stone in his fall. An uncertainty in his eyes, he was unaware of where he was. In a public bus. He asked for the ticket and the conductor made the bold move of asking how he was wounded. He said some biker hit him and fled the scene. Clearly this man was drunk, was he? Or was it concussion from a head wound. I don't know.

The bus was fully occupied and all of us were curious at this man's state. Just curiosity. I sat half way across the bus from him. I suddenly realized I had a bottle of water with me. Maybe I can offer him some and help him clean the blood off his face. I stopped this thought mid-way. Strange argument of consequences started in my mind, I am ashamed of what followed in arguments and led to my freezing in inaction.

I wondered if I could take him to the hospital, clearly he needed a bandage. I could maybe try a simple bandage. I would have to get off the bus with him, ask him if he wanted any help and offer him water and go to a medicine store and try to patch him up a bit. Why could I not ask him in the bus? Many of us were sitting and looking at him, no one offered help. Was it that we were hoping for someone else to offer help to him? Or was it that, somehow in our twisted logic we had declared that because this man is drunk he had written his own fate? No one asked him anything. Are we not humans? Am I not human? If I asked, I would become an over involved girl. I would have to see the help through. I would need to take him to the hospital and file an FIR before he gets any treatment. What a mess that would be. I thought of the cost of treatment, clearly he did not have enough money and I doubt he had any insurance. I thought if I had any insurance, I do, but it only covers me. Sad that health care is this twisted. If he was any other wounded animal like the pups in the street, Blue cross would help, sadly he was a human.

I remembered all my trivial appointments of the day and the pointless financial commitments that stem from wants and not needs. I could help this man if I wanted to. He got off the bus, and I was still rooted to me seat in conflict with myself. He started shouting on the road and I watched him as he cried about his injustice, the typical drunken speech. Drunken he maybe, but the wound on his head was real and the blood was real. I could only pray hoping he has someone at home to care for him. That was my way out, a small prayer from a frozen position.

If you have accidentally stumbled across this blog, or are following me, please let me know what you would have done. Also, I would like to know the right course of action so that next time I am more human than this.

Shreek’s guide to messing up your head and rendering yourself useless for an indefinite amount of time at the middle of your PhD + the guide to getting out of it!

    (Disclaimer: This blog entry is mostly notes to myself. However, I know many more people, other than me, are going through phases similar to mine. I only hope that this helps to see their lives in better perspective and helps them to get out of their own situations in a stronger, smarter and more resilient manner than ever before!)
      

      When the Dr. before my name, the end of stipend in another 2 years or the usual things that got me ticking earlier stopped mattering, I knew something was wrong. When my beloved setup accumulating dust in the dungeons stopped bothering me, I had hit another low. Any questions about my work that I loved to counter usually and I  enjoyed the different perspective started to annoy me, another low was hit. The final straw was probably when the excitement of figuring out how the nitty gritty things made trapping happen, died, I knew the lowest low had come. This is how the low became a rut and this is how I got stuck more and more in it.

How did I get here? Simple, by getting lost, losing hope and losing the drive to work. How did that happen? Prolonged periods of little or no results and acknowledgement of my work. Coming from a culture with appraisal cycles to a lonely place where days just roll over is not easy. The final goal seemed further and further away with the problems that were not technical at all. During this period making my system work seemed like the carrot dangling in front of me, but the hunger suddenly died and the carrot turned worthless. That meant the chase became pointless. This is where other things that I missed on the way during the chase suddenly started showing up. I missed a lot of “traditional” goals. Till now it was easy to brush these concerns aside, because I was chasing something that was important to me. But, on this day I could not remember what the important goal was anymore. Then the motivation died, drive died, enthusiasm died. I gave up the pointless fight. Like the start of decline of a relationship, I started counting the cost I had paid for this dream. Family, marriage, industry career, savings and things I did not even know I was giving up. The numbers like age that did not matter before, suddenly started to become important. First, 30, my age this year, the biological clock ticking, and before that no husband! Second, 35, the age to apply for post in the IITs for becoming a lecturer/ prof or the other government jobs that promise security. This still needs a post-doc, and with my research, a post-doc by 34-35 is a distant dream. And third, 0, the savings I will be left with when I am done with the struggle to get the degree. 0 was also the contribution I was making to the society. 0 was the number of times I stepped out of my country, it never mattered before, but now I just saw that my passport expires in 2016, and it started to become my concern. 0 the number of international conference journal papers I have. 0 is a big number, and suddenly was exponentially important in my life. The slump seemed inevitable, once the slide had begun.

Like all lows, there is always a lowest point that one hits. Once I felt I had hit it, it somehow became easier.  So, more interesting than how I got into the slump, is the story that is being written even as I write this article. I am getting out of this slump, in my own way. Everyone who has been here, somehow or the other got into the slump, but the ones who got out, always found their own way out. I am carving my own way out, in such a way that I will not see another slump for another decade at the least.

This is how I am doing it. I am answering my own doubts, one by one, I have found what is right for me and I am taking it slow and meandering my own way out of it. Starting with the 0s, here is how it will happen;

1. 0 conference and journal papers - I will make my work more visible, work to conclude the questions I am asking, ask question that are not too big to chase in 3 months’ time. One question at a time, I will build up my research.
2. 0 international travels – I will make sure that I apply to a conference where my work matters. With this I will ensure a ticket to myself by the end of this year!
3. 0 social contributions – All the children who learnt physics from me passed in science, this is significant. I am now also participating in the translator community. I can teach and increase enthusiasm in science, the way I love science, by thinking and wondering and doing it. I will find more ways to contribute back.
4. 0 savings- well this is how much I will always have J. I think money is something I will never accumulate. I will save what I make for the little luxuries that matter to me, like the book case for all the wonderful books I own. More important however is the books of all flavors that I am going to read, reading and have read. I am going to make a big balance of the experiences I am going to have in my life. I will always have the best stories to tell. And that is what I will accumulate. A lot of stories, even from the single rupee or no money that I will have.
5. 35 age limit – No government job for me. If I can finish my post-doc by 35 yrs, then it is great, else, it is fine. I will chase this dream slowly. The future will just have to sort itself out. Maybe I will create my own opportunity. The best way to do that, is to saying “yes” to any opportunity that gives me a chance to learn. Yes, 35 is actually just a number.
6. 30 clock – my husband will just have to wait to meet me, won’t he?! He better have larger dreams than mine. I can’t have someone boring to spend the rest of my life with.
7. 30 clock – No children of mine is just fine. The world has too many children anyways. I am sure not adding to the human pool is perfectly fine. I am sure I will also come across someone who needs a family as much I need one, once I am settled a bit more than this. Then we will mutually adopt each other. Phew! How much I will have to hear from society for this, a few more years on my age should help me fight this with confidence.

The big dreams always change course as life happens, but how I go about chasing them makes every day more interesting. This is what I am going to do right from this moment.

1. Love science – I love the chase to only two questions – how and why. I will chase them, learn as much as I can every day and think about the questions and answer them for myself. No doing research for goal’s sake. If the degree happens to be a consequence of it, then so be it! Till I am satisfied with how I think and how my temperament has changed, I will chase it till then and not care for anyone else’s measure of my abilities.
2. Live well – Only discipline that is really need is one that keeps me strong. So exercise, well-being and good food is now on top of my list. I will play, jog/ swim, eat well and sleep well every day. I will keep myself fit and enthusiastic with new activities that keep me healthy.
3. Find passion – I have discovered over the past year, that I love travelling. So, travel is my reward for every little feat, every month I am taking a day off around a weekend to travel/trek or just chase the clouds! I will follow 2 train trails by end of 2014, I will trek the Himalayas by 2015 and I will visit a foreign country by 2015 (this is not on my funds).
4. Spread passion – I will make sure that I give back to people. Interacting and teaching is amazing, the enthusiasm is just infectious! I will keep at it.

I know I can get a lot out of this! I am sure that I will get out this, but the trick is to get out in style, with a little of shreekiness in it!

Reason to smile

It just was so,
In her eyes, she had that look,
She did not see the drabness in front of her, she hid a smile.

While she smiled away at what she saw, nothing seemed out of place,
ordinary, very ordinary all was,
and she was looking at and away from all of it for a while.

What was it, I wondered?
Amused by something so mundane, but how?
Maybe she saw the hidden spaces, maybe she saw more colours.

It might just be that she saw time too,
Maybe she sees whats to come, what was,
And maybe she smiles, because what can be are many.

The Kodchadri Trekventure

Days after the trek I am waking upto a slow morning, an image of pure beauty flashes. 

Black rocks, lush dark green forest, water like silver falling incessantly on the rocks. As they meet, the water sculpts the rocks, and the rocks break the water into a dense mist that just hangs in the air. And through the mist is sunlight streaming through. Wherever it kisses the mist it leaves a trail of its presence for all to see.

This is the story of how I trekked to stand in this breath-taking place. I could tell you how the nine of us, the trekkers on this adventure, met and a chronological account of events, but where is the fun in that? Like all story tellers, let me start with my favourite bit.

It all ended when we got on to our respective buses and headed back to our cosy lives. Even as we said our goodbyes to each other, we were wondering when the next call of adventure would come. And the next day, as they sit at their desks staring at the monitors, for a moment they close their eyes, and they are transported back to this adventure that was. They visit their favourite moment and they smile as they open their eyes to the reality of the flickering monitor. Just a casual glance at the inbox for the next call.

On this adventure, there were nine of us. There is something amazing about that number 9. It’s the number of people apart from the driver that can fit into a rickety jeep, and still manage to reach the destination without falling off on the track. And tracks that seemed like dinosaurs had walked the mountain side, which driver casually dismissed as a good road. 9 is 3 sets of 3 girls for each tent. 9 is 4 pairs of paragliders, with one guard. Well, that is what it was, the perfect number for everything on this adventure, we loosely called a trek.

It started out innocently; even as we signed the indemnity bond we were thinking it would be just a climb here, a long walk there and some breath-taking wilderness. The bond, yes, the bond would have never prepared us for this. It lacked the phrase – “thou shall meet thy worst outdoor fear, and no animals will be harmed in this adventure”.

One thing you have to understand about Kodchadri is that it has this cloud of mist on it, in the mornings and the evenings. The mist that surrounds is actually the clouds that lay over the hills and blanket them as the hills sleep till the next sunrise. We decided to chase the sun and put the hills to sleep with the setting sun. 

This was the simple idea and with that we set out on our trek. It was an 8 km trek. We walked the country side, crops towering above our heads, fresh green plains of paddy that broke into the hills. Trees on both sides of the trail replaced the fields and the plains. All through the woods there were the funnel spiders, beautiful creatures. Soil here is red with patches of yellow like I have never seen before. The land has colour, everything is colourful and beautiful. Sun was rising and the trek left us parched. A small buttermilk stall, which also was a house that treated arca nuts was a welcome break.

After that small break, we set forth again and reached the spot that came in my dreams. After a pause here is when the real trek began. The terrain was unexpected, rocky at places, grassy at others. Dense forests gave away to the grasslands. The sun climbed and things got more adventurous. The grass lands were so steep, the trees standing on them seemed to be bent to us. Just to confirm you look away at the horizon and realize, its not the tree but the whole terrain we are standing on that is at a 60 degree slope.

We reached the peak of the first hill. After lunch here, we started the next leg of the trek. Sometimes you take the road less traveled, so instead of going over the next hill, we went around it. At this point I met my first fear, the fear of heights. This was easily an 80 degree slope with a path cut for a goat next to it. No trees no rocks around, just blades of dried grass on one side and the other had a steep fall, I would rather not describe. We got a generous drop to the temple at the Kodchadri hill’s temple. From here it was another 1.5 km trek. We raced against time to make it to the peak by sunset. At the top of this hill is a little temple. It is dedicated to the best trekker in India, Shankaracharya. Reaching here was like paying tribute to him as trekkers. He was 31 when he passed away, in the short life he had, he lived to trek. We sat where he sat and watched Kodchadri go to sleep.

We came down from the peak to the temple and watched the stars light up the night sky. The sky in the cities have just a few stars, here on the other hand, the constellations were also lost amongst the many stars. We discussed lighting bugs (I know what they are, but some people think they cause lighting) and many other interesting things about the sky here. We camped that night, probably first camp experience for most of us. 

The best adventures are always the ones with an element of surprise. Nothing gives as strong a surprise as not having it on the plan. We started the next day at the Kollur Mookambika temple. We got blessings from an elephant and a cow. When we got back to our tempo traveller, the seriousness of the day ended.

We set out for a whole new kind of adventure. And an adventure it was! We glided in the skies on parachutes manned without any controls, except the weight of the guide. He shifted his weight around to turn and sway the parachute. We were in the sky, with nothing but physics to guide us. I love physics, have faith in it, believe it completely. At this altitude though, no amount of physics and its explanations could have made me let go of the straps that tied me to the chute. I held on till my knuckles were white. Strangest thing is, all my life, I thought winds are turbulent. I was wrong. The wind is calm and amazing. Awesome! That is the word. It is awesome, because even though the straps were the only links holding me from plummeting down into water, somewhere I wanted to let go and fly. We landed. Just when my feet found the ground and got used to the 2-D space, I was crashing into the salty waves of the Arabian sea in water motorbikes at Malpe beach in Udupi. When I tried to steer the bike, it rode on water like snail with sneezing problem.

That was a topsy-turvy adventure.
On this adventure I also found my pilgrimage. On an island called St. Mary's, time is taking its own time to carve. It has rocks that look sculpted, but they are not. These were spewed up by volcanic activity long time ago. The edges are smoothed out, but the pores on these rocks tell the violent story of the volcano. The black colour of the rocks against the cream sand stand out against the green waters of the Arabian sea. On these rocks there are creatures, young corals that are opening their eyes. Slowly life will take over the bare rocks, and perhaps there is an underwater coral reef with multitude of fishes and other organisms, literally just under our feet. Yes, it is worth a pilgrimage, year after year, just to see if the corals have taken over from the sea yet.

So that was the Kodchadri Trekventure, an experience I am unlikely to forget for a long time to come.
PS: None of the photos are clicked by me. Credits go to the other 8.

Space and solitude

This space is free from bitterness.
This space is free from loneliness.
This space is free from pain from sadness.
This space is free from expectation and disappointment.
This space is mine.
This space is me.
This is my solitude.
This is my peace.

New adventure and old mates

I was looking at that cut on the backpack, and looked at the backpack itself. It is decorated with painting that look like some five year old got its hands on it, but I know when and why each one of the paintings on it came. I made them, I know when and why I made them. I made them to remind me of the great time I am having and the travels that gave me sense of adventure and awe, through which the backpack was there. Now, I can not use my backpack as the strap has come off and the zips wont come together. It made me sad to look at it. I kept trying to hold the pieces together, but all my efforts went to waste and despair hit.

Looking at my desperate attempt, my mother suggested - "Just buy a new one. Why do you carry such a dilapidated bag anyways?". How do you answer that, why do I have worn jeans, why I wont throw away the tattered floaters and why cant I buy a new backpack. In the past years I have traveled a lot, and these have accompanied me. I know them like the back of my hand, I have learnt each and every seam of the jean and it is now my second skin. My floaters now are finally adapted to my feet. And then there is my backpack. When I bought it years back the shopkeeper told me the weight limit and the sturdiness and gave a timeline till which the bag would last. The timeline passed a year back and I was happy that it had no issues. I have surpassed the weight limit and tested the bag under severe conditions. All the essential items that the bag has, is all I need to survive anywhere. I could live out of the backpack.

Now I am in a dilemma that has also caused much disturbance to me. Do I need a new bag, do I want to leave this bag? While my mothers suggestion is very logical, it makes me wonder how is it that most of the things are so replaceable now. I have hardly seen people getting things repaired. If anything is not functional people just go ahead and replace it with a new one. Have we come to a point in our lives, where it is easier to just replace non-functional entities than to try to mend the broken pieces? Does this extend beyond the material realm of things to even the relationships, career and life itself?
Each and everything is a bit more complex than before. The phone was a simpler circuit than the hidden software driven smartness of the all powerful handheld device (I cant just call it a phone anymore, it is much more). To attempt to fix it in case it ever breaks down is to undertake hell. The simple ball point pen, a refill costs as much as a new pen, but the casing is dumped. Where does it stop, does it even stop? If a relationship breaks, will you replace the person in your life?

I am afraid to know the answer. But today I am not willing to let go of my bag. I will make an honest attempt at mending it. And guess what, in the remote corner of the locality I live in, I found a little shop.

She repaired it, and now it feels better than before. I am now ready for a new adventure with my old mates.

Invasion of stinky-diaper aliens

I log in to the social scene accessible from facebook, what do I see? A load of photos of engagements, marriages, kids. Then it gets worse, once there are kids, even the photo of the kid burping is put up with grinning parents with the kid. While most of the travel, meeting and other normal pre-married life photos make sense to me, the kid scene is a bit much to handle.
I truly wonder if all the little bags of goo and drool are not just alien invasion that changed my otherwise sensible friends to a mass of mush! I feel lucky that the couples still keep some details to themselves, like the date and method of conception and the first poop colour. Other than that, almost everything is on social network. I dont know if they expect us to involve us into their lives or are just sharing the moments. I wonder what the pre-FB parents did to share these joyful to them, pain to others moments. Maybe they had secret societies where they met and then told the little details to each others. Maybe the other friends like me who have no inkling in appreciating a foot long, semi-human who is not even familiar to them, are supposed to keep out of this zone. I have full speech faculty and watching someone choke on words is a comedy at times, so, someone who cant speak is a mystery and an object of no interest to me. Their first words or the first steps and other first things must be very interesting to psychologists, biologists and other scientists interested in studying development and behaviour. On the other hand for a commoner like me, it holds no interest at all.
Worst yet is the part where you have to participate in the little ceremonies and be a part of their naming, birth and first year birthdays. Unfortunately these are a must social scene, else it means alienating yourself from your close friends from the pre-baby era.
Then, while these thoughts hog your mind, you just glance at this one picture. The picture where your friend is holding an alien lifeform, and for some reason the friend looks like they are in absolute bliss. You have seen this friend through absolute patches in life, you have made a joker out of yourself just for a twist in the lips that resembles a smile. You then realize, what the friend needed was just this little alien lifeform, to bring that heartwarming smile. If it is worth that smile, then this speech deficient, mass of muscles and fluids, stinky-diaper alien is absolutely precious.
At this point I pick up the phone and call the friend and ask how the bundle of joy is. As it truly is a bundle of joy, especially for the friend, and listening to the excitement in the friends voice gives me joy too. All I can hope at this point is may you and your family smile like this at all times.

Dedicating to all my friends new to parenting.