Our Debts

There are monetary debts, and there are tangible debts such as when someone owes someone else a favour. Both these are easy to identify. But then there are emotional debts which are not easy to identify. Maybe it is wrong to refer to them as debts because the term is transactional. But I use it for lack of a better term and also because some of us do keep a mental tally of these things.

I recently helped someone out, and although I would never remind them of it or call in my debt, it was recorded in my mental balance sheet. I then realized that that person had come into my life immediately after a traumatic incident in my life. That person was a companion to me during a difficult period and it is only later that I realized what a difference their presence made during that difficult time. They did not counsel me about my loss and I barely spoke about it to them. But just their presence was a great source of comfort, as I later realized. And that realization changed my perspective on our debt relationship. I was the one who is in their debt, not they.

Ajoba

Today is the sixth death anniversary of my grandfather. He would have been 94. I called up my grandmother and she was recollecting how he had passed away just minutes before I reached their home in Pune to see him. I was his only grandchild who was in the country during his illness and death.
My grandfather had a legendary sense of humour and would deliver the smartest and sharpest quips with a twinkle in his eye. My mother, uncle and I take after him in that respect, although none of us can claim to be as funny as him. He was a scientist and would find the most efficient way of doing even the most mundane of tasks. And, once he had found it, we had to do the task in that exact manner, which was sometimes infuriating. His love for food outlasted his digestive capacities, and often lead to stomach upsets in his final years.
He was a sickly child born of a mother on the cusp of middle age, so he wasn't tall and strapping. But he had an adventurous streak. I remember his stories of cycling around post-war Europe and of bad English breath and London under rationing. A decade later, he would transplant his young family to the U.S., long before it was fashionable for Indians to make that journey. My grandmother stories of those days paint a picture of a confident America which welcomed people from strange places. An America which was fascinated by my grandmother's colorful sarees. Anyway that is a blog for another day.

Teaching

Today, one of my students said I would make a great lecturer after I told her I was doing a PhD and looking at a career in academia. She added that I was really good at explaining complex concepts in a simple way. Another student chimed in, saying he liked that I was neutral and didn't try to impose my point of view on students. Both comments made my day.
To be honest, I have always known that I am good at explaining stuff but praise from students is always welcome. But, more importantly, I can see a marked difference in my attitude towards students between my first teaching semester (which was before the Troubles) and now. I feel a kindness and generosity towards students that I never knew I had. And, I am not the kind of person who is great at bantering with students, or anyone for that matter unless we hit it off instantly or if tis a close friend. But kindness flows in many ways--through words, actions, facial expressions. I guess I act kindly because I feel kindly towards my students, so its not much of an effort.
As for the boy's comment, I am not in the business of proselytizing. I have no desire  to convert anyone to my point of view. Sometimes I hear opinions that are quite bizarre, even ridiculous. But I never react strongly. No one likes being talked down to, everyone yearns to be respected. The best I can aim to do is to allow my students to think critically. I have learned this my from my PhD supervisor and hope to pass it on.

Prizes and Praises

I can't remember the last time I won a prize. The only one that comes to mind is for a project in journo school and not a well-deserved one at that. That was way back in 2008. More recently, there was a prize that I was hoping to win, but didn't. I didn't take that too well and was consumed with envy for someone I knew who won it. In my defense, that was around the time the demons in my head had started their devilish dance. Before the prize was announced a friend noticed that I was trembling slightly, and pointed it out to me. After the prize announcement, I spent the rest of the evening sulking, even though it was supposed to be a day of celebration.
Last week, I again didn't win a prize that I fancied my chances for, but this time I took it much better. It helped that even though I didn't win the prize, I received fulsome praise. The cynic in me would say prizes are all that matter, praises are merely platitudes. If my  work was so praiseworthy, it  should have been prizeworthy. But, I don't think so any more. It helps that I have a lot going on in my professional life, so I can't afford to mope over a prize. But, I also like to think I have matured. My first reaction to not winning the prize last week was bitterness. I felt my work was better than the prize-winning work. But, that soon blew over and I was able to chat amiably with the prize winner. Someone has to win the prize. And this might sound sanctimonious, but, at least in this case, the journey counted for more than the destination. Writing that piece has been a really fulfilling experience for me, and that counts for more than the prestige of winning the prize. Of course, that is  not to say that I wouldn't have been thrilled had I won the  prize. 

Running for Trains

Two days and two heart-stopping dashes to catch trains. Made it by  the skin of the teeth on both occasions but felt shaken afterwards, instead of relief. If I had missed the trains the next trains were just an hour later but I would have had to pay out of my own pocket (this was for a conference with funded travel). It would have been about 100 pounds for each ride, I suspect. Even so, someone less frugal than me wouldn’t have bothered so much about the expense, attributing it to accident. He would have moved on from the incident rather quickly. Someone as frugal as me would have made sure he was there in time. I guess I have to pick a side. Someday I will write a post on frugality. Today all I will say is that I hate unnecessary expense and I hate waste. I spent almost an hour last night trying to put back a zipper that had come off my jacket. It is a perfectly fine jacket except for the zipper, but useless in cold weather without it. Someone else would possibly have binned it. I guess one needs to embrace frugality or become less frugal. There is no point in agonizing over it. And there is no point in agonizing over the fact that one is agonizing over it.

Stillness

Its always a dilemma which yoga video to choose on my rest days. So, I have started using a new method to select videos. I try to sum up my mood in a single word and then I select the video whose title comes closest to that word. The word could also so be something I feel like I need at the moment. And, often enough there is an exact match. For instance, today I felt the need to be still as I am going through a stressful phase at work. And, sure enough, there was a video titled 'Stillness Practice'. 

Its not like the whole practice revolves around the title theme. A cynic would argue it is the same broad set of exercises that appear in different videos under different titles. But a) the videos are free, so what are you complaining about? b) Yoga is not a pill you pop when you are feeling ill or blue (not that I have anything against pills. If they work for you, more power to  you). Yoga works best with your active participation and, more importantly, openness. You gain from it as much as you can, and with time you earn to gain more. So, I approach the practice of the day conscious of its theme but with an open mind and body. The point is not to think too hard about the theme but to see what happens as the practice unfolds. Some days the practice brings calmness and serenity, on others it doesn't. 

Humanizing Success

Another fascinating article from a writer who wrote the article that this post was based on. This one was about how obnoxious behaviour by brilliant men is tolerated, even feted. It is seen as adding to their charm and uniqueness. Just yesterday, I was chatting to a friend about how I am not a big  fan of Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock Holmes because they were enough brilliant entitled male pricks in the world as it is. Not that Sherock Holmes, or Benedict Cumberbatch have sexually assaulted anyone, to my knowledge, but the point remains. Quirks and foibles that would never be tolerated in a woman of equal brains or talent are feted in men.
The writer went further. She wrote about the need to "humanize" success. I quote:

The point is not to put women on those patriarchy-shaped pedestals instead of men, but to expand the meaning of success beyond the unimaginative monoculture of numbers, money, size, etc, and include human aspects of life into the conversation... A heterogeneous celebration of achievement of different scales; determining relevance by philosophical and poetic values; celebrating how life is lived with self and others: we should say hats off to all these.

I believe for feminism to be truly emancipatory, it must liberate men as well as women. It is not simply a matter offering badly behaved brilliant women the same latitude as men, but changing social norms to make such behaviour unacceptable by either sex. Will we lose some brilliant minds to public censure? Maybe. Or our eyes may open to new forms of brilliance. 

Shopping for Clothes

I am not a big fan of any kind of shopping, but I find shopping for clothes particularly vexing. Not least because my body proportions are such that I struggle to find clothes that fit me well. I have broad shoulders, a narrow waist, stout thighs and unnaturally long legs. Not bad proportions to have, one would think, but they don't make clothes for people like me. Shirts that fit well at the chest and shoulders bunch up at the sides where I tuck them into my pants. Pants are usually loose at the waist or tight at the thighs or too short. I am sure if I cared more about clothes I  would find clothes that fit me well, but I can't be bothered. I like to look good, but can't be bothered to take too  much effort over it.
If  that wasn't  enough, I frequently suffer from buyer's remorse. Often, I buy stuff in a hurry because I want to be done with shopping, and then regret my haste.
Today was no different. I spent almost an hour and a half with a friend in Marks and Spencer and all I bought was one  shirt. I had decided that I wouldn't buy clothes that I didn't particularly like or didn't fit well. I have enough of such clothes as it is. I'm glad I didn't leave much room for buyer's haste today but it was still a mentally exhausting experience.
 The only type of shopping I find endurable is shopping for food. Maybe it is to do with the fact that food is essential for survival whereas clothes are not. 

Honesty

I've always had an uneasy relationship with honesty. And, no, I am not a serial liar. What I mean is if I felt wronged by someone, I wouldn't tell them. I don't like confrontation, because it is unpleasant and because it involves conversation. In the past few years, I have realized that what I was doing was being dishonest to both the other person and to myself. When you hold something in that you should be let out it doesn't sit quietly inside of you. It chips away at your insides, sometimes leaving  scars that ossify and become inflamed. Of course, some people who wrong you are best avoided if they are not worth your while. But, when it comes to people that matter, both you and they deserve honesty in most circumstances. I  agree that being honesty can sometimes lead to circumstances that drain your body and soul, so like most things in life, there are no absolute maxims.
When it comes to white lies I don't feel conflicted at all. White lies spare conversation or effort or other people's feelings but, of course, you are only allowed to deploy them on people you don't particularly care for. Otherwise, the habit can easily get out of control, I suppose.

Change

It's three weeks since the  clocks went back and I am finally used to the shorter days. To cycling back in the pitch darkness of Eastville Park and Stoke Park. The shorter days have their own charm. I love doing yoga and sipping tea in the dark. One has to move with the rhythms of the world, not fight them. Changing seasons, changing circumstances, changing people. Being a creature of habit, I am not one for  constant change.  I like my routine. In fact, I savour it, take refuge in it. In a uncertain times, I find its constancy reassuring.
But what does one do when faced with change? One, eventually adjusts to it, with greater or lesser difficulty, sooner or later. "To adapt or perish is nature's inexorable imperative". But what about circumstances where it is not healthy to adapt, circumstances that call for resistance to change. Which brings us to one of  the most vital questions when dealing with life--when to back off and when to push back. One gets better at it with experience. One has to fall off several  small precipices to learn to avoid  the big ones. What helps is the resolution to be kind--to oneself and to others.

Grading

I met a girl a couple of months ago who was a PhD student. We got talking about teaching, and she mentioned how she enjoyed teaching but hated grading. Not because of the time and the effort but because of the responsibility of deciding someone's fate and potentially having to fail them.
I started grading essays for my course today. For a few minutes, I was tempted to look up the students by their numbers and see whom I was grading. Wisely, I decided against it. It is more ethical to grade anonymously because the moment you know whom you are grading you set expectations which can influence your grade.
I got through about 10 essays today and it was easier than I had imagined. Tiring, but it wasn't an endless series of dilemmas. One instinctively knows what grade to give and, frankly, I don't have the time to agonize endlessly over it. Yes, you have to be careful with your feedback so that you don't expose yourself to grade protests. Obvious stuff like saying an essay was excellent but just grading it as a  60 is asking for trouble.
But I discovered that I like evaluating essays and providing feedback. At least, I only have to pass judgement and not improve it, as I had to for the short while that I was an editor. 

Poetry Reading

I went for a poetry reading session with my book club yesterday and quickly realized how difficult it is to comprehend dense poems that are read out to you. I suppose the ideal way to read a poem is to dwell on the verses, read them at least a few times and spend a considerable amount of time pondering over them. To knead them over in your head and coax out different meanings from them.
So it was no surprise that I was lost in most of the poems. What surprised me was one or two poems captivated me. One was a word-play showing how men and women said the same set of  consecutive words in different ways and come up with completely different meanings.
I am not poetry afficionado but the beauty of good poems is that they touch you in ways you can't entirely fathom. You can't fully describe why they appeal to you, which is what distinguishes them from good prose. Good poetry tries to give form to a higher more subtle truth than prose. Which is why its so bloody difficult.

Self Improvement and Self Acceptance

I was chatting with a friend today and she told me about a personality test she had taken. My reaction was less than encouraging, given that I am still digesting the results of the Myers-Briggs test. She argued that she likes to improve herself by whatever means, which got me thinking about my own attitude towards self-improvement and the connections between all the self hyphens (self-acceptance, self-realisation, self-actualization)

I don't see myself as a perpetual project. I am aware of some of my flaws and unaware of others like everyone else, but I feel like sometimes our attitude towards our flaws can be more harmful than the flaws themselves. A long torturous relationship with guilt has made me realize that, even though that is the staple teaching of most meditation courses and philosophies associated with self acceptance. As for self improvement, it is a difficult task to change well-formed behaviour and thought patterns. Our behaviour and thought patterns are emergent--they reflect our surroundings and circumstances as well as our personalities, which are not set in stone either. Sometimes the correct (by which I mean most useful) response to change the situation rather than the thought/behaviour pattern.

This post has become much more complicated than I had thought it would be and since I have to run, I will pick up on it some other time.

Productive Week

It has been a good week work-wise. Last weekend I was a bit under the weather and wondering whether I had too much on my plate. I was slightly worried about some deadlines I had this week, but , fortunately, I was able to make them all comfortably. What helped was that I lowered my standards a little bit. I have written before about how I feel unsatisfied unless a piece of writing feels full to me.
Last weekend, I was told that I am perfectionist, which is took me by surprise. I have always seen myself as a laid-back person,but I am really not. And, I am a perfectionist when it comes to writing. So, this week I decide to ease up a bit. And, I managed to produce satisfactory work without too much stress. Writing and research can take a lot out of you, so maybe it is important to keep some perspective. Nothing you write is likely going to be earth-shattering and most people won't be able to tell the difference between what you consider your good work and great work. So why sweat about it?

Rain Rain

When it rains, it really pelts. The weather has not been very kind these past days. It doesn't help when  we are still trying to get used to the shorter days and cycling home in the dark. Yesterday, I stayed in and worked from home because I would have been drenched had I stepped outside. It was too rainy to cycle to uni and really don't like taking the bus. As I had a yoga class in the evening, I decided that that would be my outing for the day. I have learned that it is important to get out of the house at least once a day in autumn/winter to keep the blues away. Sure enough, I started feeling hedged in by the walls of the house by evening, and was glad to get out for my yoga class.
However, today was no better and tomorrow promises to be worse. I got absolutely soaked on my way in to uni today. There wasn't an inch of me that wasn't wet and I had to dry my hair under the hand dryer.
Well, this heavy rain isn't going to last forever and I will get used to the shorter days. It is just a matter of sticking it out, which is the solution to many problems in life. 

Shorter Days

Its been more than a week since the clocks went back but I am still getting used to the time change. What I miss most is the twilight hours before nightfall, since I am at work as dusk sets in. Till a few weeks ago, I enjoyed an after-work cup of tea while lounged on the sofa in the sitting room, watching the light fade. Sitting in complete darkness is not bad, but it doesn't put me in the pensive mood that the fading light does. The fading light frames objects in a mesmerizing monochromatic hue. I do enjoy doing yoga in complete darkness, but sitting on the sofa in the dark is not that relaxing.
My main dilemma is what time to return from work. If I leave work after 5 I have to cycle through two parks in compete darkness while keeping my eyes peeled for unlit pedestrians (Such is the life of cyclists. In summer we live in fear of running over dogs, and, in winter, of dashing into pedestrians. Cars, of course, are an around-the-year hazard). If I leave work early, I feel like I haven't done enough in the day. And, the question of how to spend the long evening looms. Since yoga and cooking on the day are my only evening occupations, there is a lot of time to fill. 

INFJ

I took a personality test after much prodding from my housemate, and it turns out I am an INFJ, as she had  predicted. I have always been suspicious of boxes, maintaining that what's outside boxes is much more interesting than what is in them. But, I  must admit that I possess many of the features of an INFJ, which, it turns out, is the rarest category. It doesn't hurt that the picture of INFJ's is quite flattering. They are described as that rare combination of dreamers and doers, who are empathetic, eloquent and crave deep connection. Other descriptors are soft-spoken but with strong opinions, decisive and strong-willed but not motivated by personal gain. Apparently, INFJs are also sensitive and should make sure they take care of themselves.
The points that don't apply to me are ease of making connections with others and  a warm and friendly nature which makes them desirable to the opposite (or same) sex.
I look at it as an interesting thought experiment. I have always thought of myself as different from most people, and it is reassuring to know that there are others like me. We are not alone in our loneliness.

Do Unto Others

I apologize in advance for the moralizing tone and content of this post. They say do unto others as you would have them do unto you. But is that the best guide for our actions in all cases? Different people have different boundaries and just because you would be okay, or even enjoy, being treated in a certain way, doesn't give you the license to treat others in that way.
It is difficult to always be conscious of one's actions and words, especially when interacting with dear ones. In fact, what makes the company of dear ones so comforting is that one need not always filter one's thoughts and actions in their presence. One need not bother what they think about you because you are confident of their affections. So, it is easy to slip into familiar patterns of behavior with them. But, such behaviour can often cause pain and make them feel disrespected.
Often our behaviour is unconsciously guided by deep emotions that a person rouses in us. For instance, suppose we harbour a long unacknowledged grudge, or are secretly in love with someone, our behaviour towards them is influenced by these emotions. But, I have to come believe that the emotions another person rouses in us are ultimately our responsibility. We cannot blame them for it if they are unaware of this fact. And, if we have a choice whether to continue interacting with them and we choose to do so, they deserve to be treated with respect and kindness (if we don't have a choice, the situation becomes much more complicated, and is a subject matter for another post).  And, if treating them with respect and kindness requires tedious changes in behaviour, so be it.  

Elixir of Life

I am reading Frankenstein by  Mary Shelley for the book club meeting tomorrow. Apparently, the book, written in the first half of the 19th century pioneered the genre of science fiction and I am sure I will have more to say tomorrow after the book club meeting as many of our members are science fiction afficionados. I aways thought of myself  as being averse to science fiction but the discipline of a book club has pushed me to broaden my horizons.
The book is remarkably ahead of its times as far as its insights on the philosophy of science are concerned.It deals with one of the fundamental puzzles of the physical sciences--what gives life? This is not my area of research and clueless about the contemporary thinking on this matter. All I know is matter is made up of organic and inorganic materials (elements or compounds). Organic compounds are hydrocarbons and all living things are made up of these. But, what animates these compounds or what animates the cells that makes up these compounds? Is the animation a spontaneous chemical reaction that occurs when the write elements are brought together in the right combinations under the right conditions? Are we nothing but a gazillion chemical reactions? And in that case, is it possible to create life by bringing the right compounds together under the right conditions? Not just grow cells, but make new cells? Where does cellular DNA come into it?

Writing

This week I turned in two pieces of writing that I wasn't satisfied with. Both were competent pieces of work but they didn't feel "whole" to me. I always try to turn in work that feels complete to me, at least at that point in time. It is a difficult feeling to describe--it is the feeling of having done justice to the work, of having  produced something that can stand on its own feet in your opinion, at least for some time. I am no great writer or thinker, but the feeling of fullness before I turn in something has always been important for me. Yesterday, while talking to a colleague, I talked about how I wasn't ready to "set it free" as I still had more work to do on it. I guess what I mean is a piece feels complete when I feel like I have nothing more to say.
Maybe I am take my writing too seriously. Maybe most people wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a "full" work and another, and might even prefer the latter. But, turning something in when you feel like you haven't said all you want to say can be quite a unsatisfying experience. This holds true for all kinds of writing, including blog posts.