Reading Blogs from Years Ago

Today, I read some of my first blogs, which date back to 2006. I was struck by both the quality of the writing and the quality of ideas. Both were not too different from the present, which was surprising because I had imagined I am both a better writer and wiser person now. Back then, I only blogged if I had a clear idea for a blog and was sure I had something at least mildly interesting to say. I didn't sit down at my computer and allow thoughts and words to flow (or not) as I do now. But, on the point of feeling I have become wiser, I feel it would be more accurate to say that I have become more comfortable with myself. And, that comfort stems from a place beyond the reach of logical reasoning. This is not to say that analytical reasoning doesn't play a part in my emotional well-being. But, its not a replacement for life experiences, openness and guidance from others. I may have become wiser as a lot of people do with age, but my greater comfort with myself doesn't stem from wisdom. If anything, the causality may be the other way around. 

Taken For Granted

Today, I ticked off a friend who hadn't given me a straight answer when I had messaged to plan a meet-up and out-of-the-blue asked if we were meeting today. I guessed that he had had other plans which fell through. Since the sun was out today, I toyed with sweeping my annoyance aside and meeting but I dropped the idea pretty quickly. I am someone who is quick to respond to texts and messages. Over the years I have learnt not to expect the same of other people, but there is a difference between responding late or missing seeing the message and not bothering to respond. Being conflict-averse, expressing discomfort doesn't come naturally to me but I am learning that you are ultimately responsible for setting the tone of your interactions, especially in relationships you can walk away from. If someone treats you badly and you don't  call them out on it, when the repeat their behaviour, you are at least partially responsible. Burning bridges is not easy, especially when you don't have a lot of bridges, but its not healthy for your self-esteem if you continue to cling to a creaky bridge. In any case, and this is a topic for another day, I am increasingly trying to come to terms with being an island. 

Speaking with Authoritativeness

I often wonder when I will be able to speak with assurance and authoritativeness about my subject area. Something I have noticed over the past few weeks is the high degree of authority with which some young people speak on Twitter. There is nothing original or enlightening about most of the takes, but that is besides the point. Their confidence is what I find fascinating. Most of them are just a few years out of PhD programmes and some of them don't even have a PhD. I am that stage of my PhD where I feel like the little I could say with confidence is so obvvious that its better to keep mum. In the first eyar of my PhD, I was brimming with confidence. I would be an active participant in conferences and workshops, and gae no thought to the possibility that I was asking stupid questions or giving stupid answers. Around the second year, my confidence started to flag, when I realised how little I knew. I am in my final year now, and although I know more, I feel like I have nothing new or original to offer. A PhD is essentially an exercise marking your intellectual territory and building an intellectual edifice for your subsequent efforts. You may chose to move from that territory, but that is easier than marking your territory for the first time. Maybe I will be able to speak with confidence when I have a territory marked and an edifice in place. 

Productivity vs Progress

I have been struggling with my productivity these past few weeks, so when I came across a tweet yesterday which said one should look at progress and whether one feels fulfilled, not productivity. Productivity is a physical metric--number of words, chapters, etc.--whereas progress is more subjective. I would say I am making progress, even though it isn't showing yet in terms of physical output. Do I wish I was progressing faster? Sure, who doesn't? But, I am not wracked with guilt over not spending enough time working or feeling stuck because no wheels in my head are turning. Keeping faith in myself is difficult at times, believing that there will be a stonking PhD at the end of this tunnel. But, trying to complete a project like this in the middle of pandemic, spending month upon month working in the isolation of my bedroom requires oodles of faith. 

Let's Not be Afraid to Challenge Travel Culture

This was the headline of a Times story I came across today, or at least that was what I thought at first blush. My heart leapt with surprise that the Times was panning travel culture but my joy was short-lived. The headline actually said 'traveller', and it was just another bigoted piece in that stuffily odious paper, this time targeted at gypsies.

Travel is in the news because the British government has slapped a 14-day quarantine on all travelers from Spain. Naturally, the tabloids are reacting as though the government legalised crack cocaine. Try as I might, I can't muster sympathy for those affected by this decision. Serves them right for trusting this government when it urged them to go on holiday. And serves them right for participating in the ecologically ruinous, racist and exploitative travel culture. yes, maybe the quarantine was very difficult on some of them and they were looking forward to an overseas holiday. But, I will save my sympathy for frontline workers and the Covid-bereaved. 

Will this be trauma enough to drastically reduce the appeal of low-cost holidays? I am not betting on it. On the radio, I heard that people had already started moving their bookings to other overseas destinations. 

Social Interaction

Till yesterday, I used to think my problem was I don't have a life outside my PhD, so if the PhD wasn't going well, I would be blue. That is not true. While it is true that I don't have much of a social life, I do have a rich inner life. For an introvert life, building a social life is a tedious task even in the best of times. During Covid times, it is nigh impossible. Accepting that I am loner who has a rich inner life which he is open to sharing with the right people has not been easy. A part of it is societal expectations, a part is the reality of loneliness. The departure of a close friend from Bristol is also imminent, which might end all social interaction for me. The prospect doesn't sink my heart as it would have before the pandemic. The pandemic has shortened our horizons because staring too far into an uncertain future is an unnerving experience. It's best to keep our foresight limited to the next few days. "I won't been seeing anyone for the next few days" sounds much more manageable than "I won't be seeing anyone for the next few weeks or months". Maybe truncated horizons are here to stay. Maybe life in the next few years will be so uncertain and so eventful that planing for the future will be both difficult and imprudent. 

Being Okay When the PhD is Not Going Okay

This week was possibly my least productive week in months, except for the last week of June that I took off after submitting my PhD progress review. But, the most surprising part is how little it bothered me. I haven't lost motivation for completing my PhD and I am not feeling as frustrated as I should be, considering I have been working on this particular chapter for almost five months (This is another instance of stuff looking worse than it feels). I am currently stuck in a conceptual maze, but I can see it lifting in the not-so-distant future, when the time is right. Breaking through the maze will require work, and I am ready for the slog.
The next few weeks, months, years are going to be tumultous, so its best not to invent problems that don't exist. I am getting better at being okay with slack periods of my PhD. Yes, using your PhD to distract from problems in other areas of your life, and to find other distractions when your PhD is not going well sounds like a winning strategy on paper. But, you can't live your whole life running away from the unsavoury parts of your life. With time, you can get better at letting the unsavoury bits just be. 

But, I'm Here

I just finished A Colour Purple by Alice Walker. It was a good book, and I also liked that its protagonist was a African-American woman who, at first sight, is quite unremarkable. Not pretty, sassy or bright. Very plain, as they would say in England. She is a complex character who eventually finds her feet, but this blog is not a summary of the story. Some sentences from the book sprung out at me, and one phrase now adorns the wall above my desk. It simply says, "But, I'm here". The full quote from the book is: "I'm pore, I'm black, I may be ugly and can't cook ... But, I'm here". No demand for respect, no cry for acceptance, just a simple statement of fact and a quite assertion of her existence. A reminder that the space one occupies in the world should be occupied fully even when the world says you are not worthy of it. One has no reason to justify one's existence to the world. 

The Western Gaze

I have finally managed to pinpoint my problem that the producers of the reality TV show Indian matchmaking were American. Arranged marriages come in many colours and shapes but the show chose the most regressive forms and featured the most obnoxious people one could imagine. These were not just normalized and glamorized and presented to Western audiences as the norm in India. The modern equivalent of the stereotype of India being the land of elephants and snake-charmers. The implicit message was that if Western audiences recoiled at these regressive practices they were being racist. This is just the way things are done in India--don't judge, just be entertained.
Ho Western audiences perceive films made in the Global South is an interesting subject. My mind goes back to when I watched a film set in small-town India with a Dutch friend in Holland. The friend was appalled by the scene in which the police interrupt a young couple in a hotel room and accuse them of indecency. After the movie, this Dutch friend did not hide her shock at the scene and put herself in the position of the couple. I squirmed. The scene in the film was not an exaggeration, but it was not from the India that I come from. I had nothing to say, in this instance. But, that was a feature film, not a carefully curated reality TV show which glamorized the worst aspects of the institution of arranged marriage and perpetuated the worst stereotypes about India. 

"Needy Southern Europeans"

My PhD supervisor pointed out in a tweet today that the Financial Times had used the adjective "needy" to describe South European nations. She was quite annoyed but not being European I was more bemused.  Calling entire countries needy doesn't make sense and I feel an alert copy editor should have caught it. And, using such a word in a pandemic, when many people are being needy, or feeling needy or coping with someone needy shows a lack of sensitivity. I have blogged about neediness and was quite critical of it, possibly because I had someone else in mind when I was writing it. I implied in the post that my days of being needy or at least feeling needy were behind me. But, today, I am willing to be less judgemental. In a pandemic, it is difficult to judge whether one is lonely and seeking company or seeking validation, which is a sign of neediness. It is easy to feel needy during a pandemic and berate yourself for it. 

Strength vs Resilience

Since lockdown began, I have been doing high-intensity interval training. One expects exercises to get easier with time if one keeps at the same number of reps, but that has not been my experience with HIIT. I go flat out every time, and any increase of ease in doing the routines is marginal. What I have noticed though is my recovery time has reduced. The first few weeks I would feel completely winded for a few hours after the routine. Now, not so much. Is there a metaphor about life here?

Sensitive souls like me always wish we weren't so thin-skinned. But, maybe one doesn't get better at withstanding shocks. Maybe one gets better at standing up quickly when knocked down. I will continue to be affected by stuff that doesn't affect many other people but I will recover more quickly.

(I will save you the lecture about how my sensitivity is a strength).

Indian Match-Making

I just finished watching a Netflix reality TV show on a matchmaker in action. The show has set Twitter alight, with scores of people commenting on how it perpetuates patriarchy, misogynism, colourism and, of course, casteism. The fact that three out of its four producers are Americans with no obvious Indian connection is also a little disturbing for me. It makes the institution of arranged marriage seem an even bigger freakshow than it is. I am not, in principle, opposed to the idea of arranged marriage, but I will save my thoughts on that for another post. For now, suffice it to say that the show confirms all my terrible apprehensions about arranged marriage. As someone whose family is progressive and has given up on trying to get him hitched, I can watch the freakshow from afar while counting my blessings that I managed to escape it. But, it is easy to get too negative about Indian society and I have realised that I am strongly prone to this line of thought. Yes, caste, patriarchy, etc. are forbidding structures, but it doesn't mean that there is no room for manoeuvre. People take steps to challenge those structures even if they don't have the language to articulate their challenge. Sometimes, they don't even realise they are challenging it. Even the show in question had some participants who were not entitled, casteist patriarchal knobheads. The adorable college counsellor with an unsavoury family history, the divorced single Mom, etc. And, the upholders of the oppressive structures--the matchmaker in this case--are not as close-minded as one would imagine. I suppose people would prefer to find what or  who they are looking for within the structures but are open to looking beyond them if  unsuccessful. Is that such a bad thing? 





 India has so many 'isms' that it is possible to think of yourself as a revolutionary even if you challenge one of them, while perpetuating the others.

Fortune Smiles

Nothing lifts my mood than to get word that I will be receiving money that I wasn't expecting. I don't see myself as particularly money-minded but I do check my bank balance more than is required. Watching the money just sitting there gives me some satisfaction, which makes me an extra mild Uncle Scrooge, I suppose. I have a frugal lifestyle and am careful with my spending but over the years I have learnt to look with amusement rather than judgement at those with extravagant tastes. 

But, word that I will be  receiving this money came sooner than expected, which made the surprise even more pleasant. When fortune smiles you try and run with it, so I decided to channel my good mood into writing my PhD thesis. And it worked. I didn't write reams and reams, but at least I managed to dig myself out of the rut I was in. Hopefully, I will be able to keep up the momentum in coming days. Having a separate keyboard which makes that extremely satisfying clackety-clack also helps I suppose. 

Outdoor Yoga

I can't believe it has taken me this long to discover the joy of outdoor yoga. I did yoga session in my back-garden a few weeks ago, but thought it would only be enjoyable on sunny days. Today, I decided to do it on a cloudy but warm day and it was better than the first time because there was no glare from the sun. I have decided to do yoga outdoors as much as I can for the rest of summer.
As it always happens, one discovers simple pleasures too late. I discovered the joy of night walks around the beach after the summer had passed in Holland. It was the same with walks on the downs behind my house. I prefer to walk when there aren't too many people around, which is only after sunset, but only started walking when the days were so long that people were about till 9:30 pm. In any case, better late than never.

When Life Looks worse than it feels

Sometimes one's life feels worse than it looks and at other times, it looks worse than it feels. What I mean is how we think our life appears to others can I have a bearing on our mood. Thinking about how the world sees our shortcomings or misfortunes can often make us feel worse than the shortcomings and misfortunes themselves do. This is not a call to banish judgement, even if that were possible. Being able to judge situations and circumstances relatively dispassionately is an invaluable human skill. For instance, it often tells us when someone is in need of help, even if they are not asking for it. But, we tend to judge ourselves and our own circumstances too harshly. so, it might be useful to reflect on whether at a given point, life feels worse than it looks, or looks worse than it feels. If it is the latter, it means we are judging ourselves through the lens of the outside world and self-sabotaging our mood. Being aware when we are doing so can itself be a mood-booster. When life feels worse than it looks, it gets more complicated. It is easy to berate oneself for feeling low when there are others in much worse situations. On the other hand. life feeling worse than it looks could also be a warning to seek help for one's mental health, especially if the feeling persists. 

Ripe Tomatoes

Yesterday, I made chicken curry which turned out better than usual. No credit to me, the masala I use is smashing, and this time tomatoes that perfectly ripe made the difference. I have learnt that the "use by" dates on tomato packs are extremely conservative. Perhaps this is because  most people use tomatoes, etc. in salads and not curries. So, I have started leaving tomatoes out for a few days before using them in cooking. Yes, they are more difficult to chop when they are ripe but its worth the extra effort. 

Ghost Campus

Today, I went in to uni to pick up my chair and a few books. The last time I was there was in March to pick up some stuff before the inevitable lockdown. I was more pessimistic than other then, but even I didn't imagine the campus would be locked down for so long. My guess was it would reopen in June, and here we are in July. The campus resembled a ghost town. Before Covid, whenever I was on campus, I would always see students milling around, even on New Year's Eve. Today, there was no one except a few construction workers. The local students must have gone home before lockdown, and the foreign students must have taken repatriation flights home. The building felt like the people had just dropped what they were doing and left to escape from an invading army which never arrived. Plants wilting from months of neglect, coffee cups, books, papers left on desks, biscuits on cupboard tops--all signs that people left in a hurry and didn't expect to be away for long.
The room that had been my home for most of my waking hours in the past three years felt like the soul had been drained out of it. The circular table where I had spent many an hour indulging in my favourite hobby of gazing out of windows, the whiteboards I used for brain-storming as I paced the length of the PhD room were all still there. I used to believe that these were key to my productivity. Today, the sight of them stirred nothing in me. I didn't even notice the whiteboard. My place of work is my bedroom now. I suspect I will only go to the PhD room again to get stuff I need, and to move out when I finish my PhD. I was extremely attached to that space and some of my fellow inhabitants. I was dreading the prospect of working from home when lockdown struck. Now, it feels like the most natural thing to do. It feels like an era passed without me even realizing.

Advice or Venting

I read a post on Facebook which went something like "It took me forty years of living to realize the first question to a friend should be do you want to vent or do you want my advice?". It has taken me a long time to understand that too, and I have written about how I try to avoid slipping into advice-giving mode when a friend calls me with a problem, unless their problem is whether I should do A or B. Giving advice in response to a "What should I do?" can also be tricky because sometimes there are no straightforward solutions and the person seeking help is aware of every single one of them. But, I don't feel powerless either. Let me make it clear that I am no oasis of calm and equanimity, and I am sometimes able to offer support only  because I am very fortunate to not be burdened with the problems that some of my friends have. I have the utmost admiration for them for carrying on in some pretty lousy situations. But coming back to the subject at hand, I don't feel powerless for two reasons. One, because when someone vents to you, they are not just vomiting out their problems, but trying to make sense of them anew. Or at least in some cases they are. Writing and speaking can put thoughts in motion, and  a person may gain a new perspective on their problem just by talking abut it to you. The other reason is it is usually possible to make someone feel better about themselves, unless they are in the depths of depression. By telling them that you don't have any answers to their shitty predicament, but are amazed by their courage and fortitude in the face of it. Make them feel at least a bit better about  themselves by the end of the conversation.

The Chase

Its a trope that heterosexual men enjoy the thrill of a romantic chase, and if there is no chase their interest wanes. The trope paints this preference as grounded in biology, and it is essentializing and slightly misogynistic. But, I wonder if men are socialized to desire women who don't yield easily to their advances. A female comedian tweeted a few weeks ago that heterosexual relationships don't work unless the man is more invested in it than the woman, because if its the other way around, the man loses interest. I wonder if  there is some truth in this. Of course, in some cases, the man might be too shy to make the first move, and if the woman is more outgoing, she might do so. But, this is a question of shyness not of a lack of desire. Anecdotally, I know of a few cases where it was apparent that the woman wasn't interested in the man initially, but the man pursued her doggedly and they ended up together. I wonder if its common to have the  opposite case--woman pursuing a man determinedly and them ending up together. Are men put off by women expressing interest in them unless they are as keen on the woman? A woman they would have considered partnering if she hadn't expressed a clear interest in them?I doubt it. 

Good Faith in Hard Times

When times are tough for everyone, for example during a pandemic that shows no signs of ending, it is easy to assume the worst of every person and every situation. The world is scarier-than-usual place and we, as Kate Tempest puts it, permanently have our "hackles raised and backs against the wall'. At such times, it is difficult to bring good faith to our relationships, romantic and otherwise. Everything that annoys or saddens us feels like it was done in bad faith. We judge the offender as being manipulative, or inconsiderate or mean-spirited or all of the above. If we cause offence ourselves and come to regret it later, we berate ourselves more than usual. Naturally, not a very healthy state of affairs.
If a relationship is worth continuing, it is only worth continuing in good faith because in many if not most cases, one has the option of walking away. If one chooses to stay, one must maintain good faith. Not assume the worst, make allowances for people's behaviour (to a reasonable extent), be kind. I am not suggesting we turn into saints. If a relationship feels toxic at this time, it is perfectly acceptable to put it into cold storage for the time being if ending it completely seems harsh. I also realise that many people don't have the option of walking away/cold storage even if they feel like it. I have utmost sympathy for them, and consider myself very lucky that I am not in that situation myself. 

What Do I Know

After my blow-up while talking to a close friend yesterday, I had a few tense moments talking to my parents today. The first was when they were urging me to network professionally. I listened for a bit but found  myself getting annoyed. Pandemic nerves maybe? That conversation ended only when I snapped at them for treating me like a kid who has never worked in the professional world. Snapping at my parents always makes me feel guilty because I know they will take my bull-shit. Many friends wouldn't, and that's understandable, especially in the middle of a pandemic when everyone is on edge. The second tense moment when my Mom snapped me for dismissing a video she had sent about steam inhalation as a cure/allebiative for Covid-19 without even watching the video. I made it a point to watch the video after our call and my opinion about it remain unchanged. I was in half a mind to send an article saying steam inhalation as a cure for covid-19 was fake news but decided against it. Hopefully, this pandemic will help me get better at letting things be. And maybe inhaling steam does cure Covi-19--what do I know? (I have written before about the usefulness of the "What do I know?" attitude before but can't seem to find the blog. It is basically a combination of humility and detachment).

Pandemic Temper

I called up a close friend today to catch up and our conversation ended abruptly within 10 minutes with both of us doing the smartphone-equivalent of slamming the phone down. The reason: politics. One stray comment led to another and soon we were shouting over the line. I am aware of his political views, which have shifted from centre-right to the centre in recent years and I wasn't gunning for an argument. But what got my goat was his equating the far-right with the far left. 

Finally, I told him that it was no use talking if he was going to shout at me, and the conversation ended with me telling him to F*#$ off. 

Maybe this pandemic has been more stressful on me than I thought. I didn't know I had so much rage bubbling under a relatively calm exterior. I also have some thoughts on the male-friends dynamic here and how arguments can escalate quickly due to too much testosterone (at the risk of essentializing) but I will save those for another day. Right now, I think the lesson is this is a tough time for everyone and its best to cut people slack. There is nothing easier than burning bridges in the heat of the moment. But, now is the time to nurture connections, not sequester yourself from imperfect relationships.

First Farewell

This afternoon, after pointing towards the freshly-made doughnuts she had left for me, my housemate's mother told me via Google Translate on her phone that this was her last batch of sweets as she was leaving for good two days from now. The news came as a surprise to me, and I felt quite sad. I have become used to her cheerful presence in the house even though we can barely communicate as she doesn't speak English.
When I moved in seven months ago, I assumed she was visiting her son, and would possibly return home to Romania for Christmas. The holidays came and went but she remained. I didn't mind because her presence was barely any bother, and she soon started sharing the fruits of her baking with me. She also cleaned the house with unnatural thoroughness, so I had little reason to complain. Before lockdown, I didn't see much of her as I would be at uni from morning to evening nearly six days a week. I would joke to my friends that she must think I am a dolt because she had caught me n a number of occasions struggling to operate some pretty straightforward kitchen appliances, and had stepped in to help.
When we locked down, I started seeing much more of her as she was always in the house and never went anywhere. She continued to ply me with  her baking goods and I started returning the favour. She has a sweet tooth so it was easy to shop for her. She also loves strawberries which made returning the favour even easier.
Her imminent departure has made me realise the importance of non-verbal communication. A warm demeanour and smiles can work wonders, even when no words are exchanged. In fact, I would tell my  friends that one of the reasons I was fond of her is I didn't have to make small talk with her. I will miss seeing her around the house. After she told me she was leaving, I toyed with the idea of getting farewell sweets for her. I had just been to the shops this morning, and it was raining so I was initially disinclined to do so. But, I knew I would regret it later if I didn't get anything for her. Rituals and gestures are important signalling vehicles, as much as lay cynics like me would like to believe they are not.
The next few years are going to bring many upheavals, many life changes, many farewells. Not to overstate the significance of this one, but this is possibly the first one in my life. 

Alone in Death

This evening, my Mom told me that a family friend had died of a heart attack yesterday. He was single and lived alone. The neighbours felt something was amiss as his home was dark in the evening, and broke his door to investigate when he didn't answer the doorbell. I had met the family friend, but was not well-acquainted with him. From my parents and from tributes to him on Facebook, I learnt that he was very warm and outgoing, and one of the anchors of the Bengali community in Thane. But, the part of the story that struck a chord with me is that he died alone.
Long-time single people give a lot of thought to living alone. How to minimize the possibility of illness by taking good care of yourself, how to cope with the inevitable loneliness, etc. But as a young healthy singleton I haven't contemplated what it would be like to die alone. In the UK, one hears stories of old people who die and are not found for weeks because they don't have anyone checking on them regularly. The stories are heart-breaking. Everyone deserves a quick and dignified passing. And families deserve to know of their loved ones' passing so that they don't berate themselves for having gone about their lives in blissful ignorance till the time they found out.
As a singleton who lives abroad, I often think about how my folks would find outif something were to happen to me. My mother, being of a similar anxious bent of mind, has made me pass on contact details of my friends. 

Exhilarating Reads

In my field, one seldom comes across reads that are analytically rigorous and elegantly written--fun engaging in all respects. I read such an article today and felt exhilarated even though it was the end of the day. It was a big-picture article on how economists use data and drew comparisons with the natural sciences as well as medicine. (A part of the reason I enjoyed it is it confirmed some of my misgivings about statistical techniques in economics)The prose was sharp and laced with acerbic wit, which is rare to see in economics because most economists lack the intellectual confidence as well as the writing skills to pull it off. It is my ambition to write such analytically rigorous articles for a non-specialist audience.

Dating Around

Last week, I watched a Netflix show Dating Around in which one singleton goes on dates with five others and picks one for a second date. As with every dating show, casting is key, and the producers of this show have done a splendid job. They have showed that you can have a fun and interesting dating show without people being mean or acting downright bonkers. The chemistry between some of the participants is palpable and it is also fun to guess who the protagonist will pick for the second date. But, it didn't escaped my attention that the men of colour tended to be noticeably more attractive than the white men. And, all the oddballs are white men. I have written before about how white men get a longer leash to be quirky and alternative without being dismissed as undesirable (no ugly hippies of colour). The white women on the show were mostly think and attractive, as expected.

I imagine being a casting director on such a show is a sociological minefield. Class, colour, sexual orientation, attractiveness, body type--there are so many things to consider even before you look at the participants' personalities.