Long Weekend Ends

 On Friday evening, I was starting at the bank holiday evening with a long face. I had just accepted that I would need a three-month extension to my PhD, and I was feeling like a loser on the work front as well as the love front. The weekend has passed and it went much better than I imagined. I went for a solo bike ride yesterday, which brought back memories of my bike rides in the Meijendel reserve near my student accommodation in Holland. Those rises were much nicer because I would barely run into more than a dozen people. But yesterday made me realize that I enjoy being outdoors by myself. And, even in overcrowded England, there are always moments of solitude and tranquility to be found. Today, I went on my second date in less than a week (with a different person). There was no chemistry and I think we both were a little bored. I was feeling low after the date, but the girl sent a message explaining why this was goodbye. And, that message made me feel much better because she showed consideration towards a person she will never lay eyes on again. I wasn't going to message her, because I don't like telling people I didn't them attractive. But, being honest with someone is a sign that you respect them and have concern for them. It tells me this girl is a nice person and I sincerely hope she finds love. And, with this date, my online dating sojourn comes to an end, leaving me to focus on my PhD. Its an easy decision, because I simply don't feel like being on online dating apps. And, today, I may feel alone and unloved but I can guarantee that I will feel much better in a few days. Dating is anxiety-inducing for me, and I have never managed to cultivate a healthy way of approaching it. So, yeah, this might not be the summer of freedom from my PhD or the summer of love. But, that doesn't mean it will have to be a bad summer. The next bank holiday is at the end of August. By that time, I should be close to submitting my PhD. Anything can happen in this world, but I have a hunch that it will be smooth sailing this time. 

Leading with the Heart

It has really started to feel like every day brings a surprise. I was regretting having cancelled my vaccine appointment in Bath, because I had no plans for the long weekend. I was afraid I would spend most of my time moping about having to ask for a PhD extension and my moribund social and love lives. But someone I had asked out more than a week ago unexpectedly, replied this morning to make a plan for Monday. Suddenly, the weekend started looking up and I decided to move my solo bike ride up from Monday to Sunday. Changing plans at the spur of a moment, grabbing at opportunities whenever they arise without thinking too far ahead is the way to survive in the new world. For overthinkers, the new world is a bewildering place, simply because the possibilities are boundless. So, maybe the best way to proceed is to lean more on the heart than on the head to make decisions? Look at paths and actions that may have seemed irrational or foolhardy one year ago with an open mind? The world is changing, and it is no doubt changing us too. There is no point in taking decisions based on what we think is best for our old self. And if there was ever a point on the arc of humanity where worrying was worthless it is at this point. There are just too many things to be worried about. 

PhD Extension

 Today, I had a chat with my PhD supervisor where we decided that I would seek a 3-month extension to my submission deadline. When my supervisor floated the idea yesterday, I felt gutted. June 30 was the day I would be finally free of my PhD. I have told everyone who asks that is my submission date. The PhD kept me afloat through Covid. If I didn't have my PhD, I would have quit the UK and gone back to India, I have no doubt. I chuckle mirthlessly when I think of my original plan, which was to finish by the end of the year and go home to India for the Christmas break. I am not counting on being able to go home this Christmas either. And, most of compatriots are done with their PhDs, announcing their news on Twitter. Compatriots that I thought I was smarter than. Now, I have to swallow my pride and go cap in hand to the grad school to ask for an extension. Plead my case by pimping the Covid situation in India. I feel lonely, tired, miserable today and my PhD feels like a mountain that will always refuse to yield to me. I can't help but feel sorry for myself. I had a good cry today but I still feel like there are some tears left in me. But there are two silver linings. My conceit has been crushed so comprehensively that it will take years for it to recover. Newsflash: I am smart and capable, but not as smart and capable as I thought. I may never be a star academic and I will consider myself lucky if I am just able to stay on in academia. Humility is powerful, humility is clarifying. So, there is nothing to do but have a good mope over the weekend, and pick myself up, dust myself off next week. 

Another Anxiety Antidote

 Could it be that I have found an antidote for anxiety? I have been feeling pretty anxious on and off since last morning. The reasons are obvious--stress about finishing my PhD on time and about reentering the dating scene. My stomach is in that weird place where it isn't upset nor is it fine. Lots of belching and farting. I have learned that when my stomach is unsettled without any cause, it is usually due to anxiety. The flutters came back towards the late afternoon today, and I was preparing for a restless night. But, then I started singing party songs, and before long my anxiety had receded dramatically. Could it be that I have found the ultimate antidote for my anxiety--singing? Or was it a fluke that it receded at the same time? More likely, it is another antidote to add to my arsenal. The ways of the human mind are mysterious, and what may work once may not work again in exactly the same circumstances. Singing may work some times, at other times it could be yoga or meditation or even wanking. However, one has to be careful because focussing on antidotes may encourage trying to fight anxiety, which may make it worse.  Nothing is a more self-fulfilling cycle than getting anxious about anxiety. Sometimes it is better to let it course through you. The best thing to do is to go with your gut, rather than overthink the right strategy. 

Soldiering On

 I started today in a mild panic about my PhD. I got out of bed at 5am and after yoga and a cold shower, was in office by 7:30. I felt overwhelmed, out of my depth, and my stomach felt unsettled too, a sureshot sign  of anxiety.  But, anxiety can sometimes be good for you. I worked today, like  I hadn't worked in ages. I didn't get a lot done in terms of writing, but I whiled away nearly half as much time I usually do, The anxiety lit my tail on fire, and i worked with a focus and determination that I hadn't felt in ages. For years,  I thought anxiety is to be avoided at at all costs. If something makes you anxious, remove it from your life. But, now, I am coming around to the view that anxiety is not all bad. Mild anxiety can be trigger for action. 

Realistic PhD Timeline

 This PhD is never going to be smooth sailing. If I had any hope that after the heavy-lifting there would come a point after which I would just coast home, that hope is long gone. I am hoping to reach a point of balance between satisfaction and exhaustion. Right now I am 10% satisfied and 30% exhausted. Hopefully, my satisfaction will climb faster more rapidly than my exhaustion. When I get the feedback on the rest of my draft, I will get a sense of whether my June 30 deadline is realistic. There is a good chance it is not, and I will have to be prepared for that eventuality. 

P Songs

 When I attended a Zoom memorial for a family friend a few weeks ago, someone sang a "party song". The song has been bouncing around in my head, and I was going to ask my mother to give me the lyrics to it. Party songs are an indelible part of my childhood. I must have listened to them and sung along a hundred times.  All public meetings that we attended started and finished with songs. The songs themselves are passionate and inspirational, and at times like these they lift my spirits as well as remind me of my childhood. Inspiration and nostalgia at one go. Suddenly it struck me that there was a folder either on my computer or removable disk title "P songs". I immediately set about trying to find it. After locating it, I discovered that I would need to download a Hindi font to view the lyrics. Now, the sings are with me and I can sing along to them any time. I spent a pleasant half an hour singing the songs, discovering that the reason only the choruses had stuck with me is because the stanzas had much longer words. They were more difficult to sing as well as remember. But, its nice to have the lyrics, and I must designate them in my mind as one of my pick-me-ups. 

Anger Disguised At Teasing

I have so much to ponder over, I don't know where to start. So, I am going to stay on the tip of the iceberg. A friend conveyed to me that my teasing had become very annoying, and she wondered whether it was driven by subconscious anger towards her. I am quite capable of expressing anger through well-disguised animosity rather than an outburst. Instead of releasing the anger, congealing it into a venom to dip my words in. Not very healthy at all. Yes, I do feel I have become more irritable since the start of the pandemic. Call it Covid vex, call it anything else. Flames of anger rise within me within minutes and burn with ferocity. My body becomes noticeably hotter. At the same time, I have discovered reserves of patience and fortitude I didn't know existed. Its easy  to lay the blame  at my own door. But, maybe the story is more complex than that. Some of my personal relationships have undoubtedly changed over the  past year. Some have strengthened, some have strained. It is futile to try to go back to  way things were before the pandemic. There is no going back. But, that doesn't mean strained relationships are irretrievably lost. They can be moulded into healthy relationhips, even if they never regain their past closeness. 

Not-My-Probleming

 I have gotten better at not-my-probleming. NMP means drawing boundaries around the stuff you care about and assiduously keeping within those boundaries. Ever since my anxiety reared its head, I have become a bit of a control-or-planning freak. Thankfully, I don't try to exercise control over the lives of others even if I have a strong opinions about how they are leading their lives. But, I do try to control and plan many aspects of my own life. But, aspects of my life naturally overlap with other people's lives--housemates, teaching colleagues, friends. And, when things don't go as planned due to no fault of my own, it can be frustrating. Maybe my personality type internalizes common goals as personal gains, so a group failure feels like a personal failure, even if I contributed more than my own fair share towards the project. I am trying to get into the habit of letting the glass fall to the floor instead of dashing to catch it in mid-air. Often, the person who has knocked down the glass doesn't notice either the glass falling or me catching it, which can be very frustrating. Now, I learning to let the glass fall. I will do what is expected of me, but I won't fret over the outcome, especially if I have little power to change. It doesn't mean completely washing your hands off something. It means marking off your area of concern and taking the attitude that you won't be bothered by something outside of it. 

Que Sera Sera

 This morning, I caught myself singing the song "Que sera, sera"--what will be, will be. Never have wiser words been spoken in the English or Spanish language, and Doris Day turned this amxim into an adorable and singable song. I have found myself leaning on this maxim quite a lot in the past few days. So many uncertainties in my life. Wwill albe to finish my PhD in time, what will I do after my submission, what will I do after my defence? Will dating distract me from the final leg of my PhD? In the face of mso much uncertainty, I have decided to follow my heart, rather than my head. So, I am not going to apply for that job, even though I probably should, and everyone around me is telling me to. And, I am going to wander around on dating apps, even though I shouldn't at this stage of my PhD. 

The Voice of the Race Engineer

I have been watching an F1 series and the thing that has stuck with me is the voices of race engineers on the radio with their respective F1 drivers. F1 drivers are the interface between the team and the driver during the race. Calm, authoritative and competent, even when the drivers sound breathless and frazzled. Like pouring oil on troubled waters. Most F1 drivers are multi-millionaires and I assume have huge egos. Obviously, to be a race engineer, your driver has to respect you, else he won't do as you say. In personality, I am definitely a race engineer rather than a F1 driver or team principal. 

Feedback on PhD Draft

 I got feedback on the first chapter of my PhD, and I can't say I am surprised. I knew it needed more work, and my supervisor pinpointed the weaknesses I knew about, as well as some new ones. When I first got the mail it caused momentary panic. I hadn't finished my methodology chapter, and I still had exams to grade. And, should I be on dating apps at at a time like this? But, the panic subsided soon enough, and I swung into action. I have decided not to set myself any deadlines and keep alternating between the different tasks so that I don't get bored or stuck. I have discovered that having something that diverts attention from my PhD increases my productivity. Maybe, its because when I get stuck or frustrated with one thing I can switch to the other one. It worked like a charm today. It was my most productive day in a long while, as I managed to do a lot of my methodology chapter, and bits of the other two tasks as well. I realise one swallow doesn't make a summer and tomorrow or the day after might be quite unproductive. Everything is cyclical, so the main lesson is not some productivity hack, but to remind yourself that everything is cyclical and not to worry. 

Overflowing Bin

I put our black bin out for collection this morning, only to find it overflowing a few hours later. My guess is Ugly Betty is responsible. I am tired of stressing about the black bin. Before the last collection, I actually went through the trash to pick out some stuff for recycling and reduce the size of our trash. Once before, I had dumped some of our excess garbage into a neighbours bin. I have had enough. Relations between Ugly Betty and me are at a nadir after her self-harming episode, so I cannot tell her to reduce her trash. I am tired of quietly picking up her trash after her. I am not her mother,  and this is not my house. So, I am just going to leave the bin as it is and wait to see if the bin men collect it. If they don't, I will let the landlady know and let her sort it out. I am tired of scrambling to catch the glass before it crashes to the floor. Maybe it will break, maybe it won't. This is about setting boundaries, deciding what  is your problem and what isn't and assiduously following your decision, even if your personal proclivity is not to. Maybe that deserves a separate blog. 

Indian Variant

Just as I had feared, the Indian variant is causing anxiety in the UK on the cusp of another significant relaxation of Covid restrictions. Form Monday, we will be allowed to visit other people's houses and stay overnight. But, its just a matter of time before Covid restrictions are tightened again. I was hoping to visit my aunt in Brighton in July after submitting my PhD thesis, but that looks unlikely. I am trying not to think beyond the submission of my PhD, because I have no clue what lies on the other side. What will life be like without a PhD to chip away at, and without a PhD room to spend the long days of summer in? I hoe I am allowed to use it at least until September. Big disappointments overshadow small disappointments and stresses. If we are likely to remain under restrictions, what does it matter if I am not able to get any dates on dating apps? But, I am going to do my best to finish my PhD on time. I cannot allow fear of what lies ahead to slow me down. Being in PhD mode cannot become a permanent state of affairs. It is not healthy, and I need to move on even if I don't know what lies ahead. 

Sensation Over Shape

One of the things Adrienne say frequently in her yoga videos is to focus on "sensation over shape". Its taken me years to internalize this message and I still don't think I have completely. I suppose that is the beauty of yoga. There are so many layers to peel that you can keep doing the same videos but discover something new. Not every time, of course. I don't do YWA to discover something new,, I do it because I find it quite relaxing. It took me a year or so to realise that there are some poses that I would never be able to do, so to stop trying. I suppose a lot of people feel that if they do yoga or stretching long enough they will be able to eventually achieve the flexibility of a gymnast. Or, at least, I did. Not true at all. More recently, while trying to rehabilitate my shoulder, I have been focusing too much on the shape of restorative poses, rather than the sensation. I have been trying to have every body part perfectly placed. But bodies are different, and while broad guidelines still apply, what is restorative for you will not be restorative for me. To be far to myself, the physios I visited did not focus much on the sensations too. But, now I am trying to rehabilitate my shoulder through youtube videos by assiduously focusing on sensation. an exercise might feel like the perfect remedy but if it doesn't feel right after a few days, I abandon it. 

Trigger Warnings

I read a post on Twitter a few weeks ago which was long the lines of "what triggers you may not harm you". A trigger is a psychosomatic reaction, which is something that I had never experienced till a few years ago. For me, my heart rate quickens, I feel light-headed and I can feel anxiety swell up inside me. Yesterday, I was triggered by the sight of my crazy housemate's crazy friend, who had knocked on my door in the middle of the night last month to blame me for my housemate self-harming. But, awareness that I was being triggered, and that the trigger was not likely to harm me went some way in calming me. It was the same with the crazy women whose dog I ran over a couple of years ago. In that case, I calmly stood my ground when they confronted me again, even though the experience was triggering. Of course, it depends on the extent of the trauma. I can't compare my experience to someone who has survived violent physical or sexual assault. But, in the case of mild trauma like me, facing the triggering cause has helped blunt the trigger. 

Methodology Blues

 I don't know why I thought writing the methodology chapter would not take long? I am interested in methodology, but, boy, is it a minefield. There is a lot of stuff I would write about but can't, either because I don't have a sufficient grasp of it or because it would expose me to attacks. Most of my time has been spent in reading about interesting concepts, only to realise I wouldn't be able to use them. I am going to have to walk a very thin line, and do just enough to satisfy my second supervisor.  Or, at least that is what I have been telling myself. The truth is I will have satisfy myself, as with every writing project i care about. 

Cake!

 I never imagined how excited about cake. A couple of days ago, a school friend who lives in the US asked for cake and flower delivery recommendations in Mumbai for Mother's Day. I told her to feel free to send cakes to everyone on the group, and not to bother with the flowers. She asked for my address, and, I, playing along, gave it to her. Then, today she asked me to pick cakes from a website menu. I couldn't believe my ears. Her thoughtful gesture lifted my spirits and I was too excited to do any work. But, why get so excited about cake? Yes, a touching gesture in the midst of the steady stream of bad news from India is welcome. But, that is only part of it. I have realised I miss making enough money for guiltless discretionary expenditure. its been seven years since I quit my well-paying career for academia. I thought I had seamlessly adjusted to the frugal life of a student. And. for the most part, I have.But, being aware that I am living someone else means has tempered my weak tendency to consume even further. I would never spend 15 quid on a cake, for myself or anyone else. I can't remember the last time I ate at a restaurant with table service. Over the past year or so, I have cut spending on food as I cook almost all my meals. after seven years of frugality I also have a small list of things I want to buy after I get a job. A new watch and a new bicycle. I will never be a spendthrift even I get a high-paying job at some point in time. Indeed, a high-paying job in a time of staggering inequality and the climate crisis would likely send me into paroxysms of guilt. I am better suited than most to live a frugal student life and there are worse problems to have. But, there is no harm in acknowledging that I miss having an income and the possibility of guiltless discretionary spending.

Condolence Meeting

 I attended a Zoom condolence meeting for Pravin Uncle today, which started at an inordinately early hour for me. I didn't set an alarm, but most days I stir from sleep between 4:30 am and 5 am. I am glad that I did. it was nice to see many friends from my childhood. These are the people I used to play with when our parents were having Party meetings. We had a special bond, forge through the realisation which we were too young at the time to articulate that our parents were not like other parents. They were of the left but not part of the mainstream left. Most of them were trained in the sciences and had day jobs which had nothing to do with their political activism. Indeed, in most cases, their respective employers had no clue about their political activities. In comparison to them, the parents of my other friends seemed small-minded and even petty, in some cases. 

I don't want to put them on a pedestal. At a relatively young age, I decided that I would not be following in my parents' footsteps and join the party. It took many years for me to understand the reasons for my instinctive reluctance to join the Part. But, whatever my issues with the Party, it had some of the warmest and most helpful people I know. And the Party kids, as we sometimes called ourselves are like cousins whom you don't necessarily talk to often but who occupy a significant space in your heart. As it happens, we would often introduce each other as cousins to sidestep the questions about how exactly did we know each other and what was the connection between our respective parents. It was wonderful to see everyone despite the circumstances. And, I felt glad that I attended. Mourning rituals are important for one's emotional well-being. 

How Do You Solve A Problem Like Betty

 You don't. You simply cope as best you can. Till last week, I don't think Betty had ever used the vaccum cleaner. I used to grudge her never cleaning up the common living areas but I know I wish she had never picked up the vaccum cleaner. Because she NEVER puts it back, and I have to leave a note in the kitchen. She is someone who always finds new ways to inconvenience, and I don't think she even realizes, or even cares. I don't think I have ever met anyone with their head so far up their ass. Whenever she finds a new way to give me shade, I can't help but think of my living circumstances in Bristol. My first landlord was a psycho, the second was good in the beginning but became steadily resentful, and now Betty. On the other hand, I am also proud of how well I have coped in trying circumstances, not just in terms of my housing situation, but generally. A tiny PhD programme, no scholarly community, no one to discuss my work with, very few friends, and being periodically chastened on dating apps. I am still here, and I am not just surviving, I am thriving. These circumstances won't last for long. When ruing one's circumstances, and one is wont to do from time to time, it is easy to forget how well one has coped. I was telling this to a friend whose problems far outweigh mine. We cannot help the hand we are dealt but we can help what we do about it. Or don't do about it. Living through these trying circumstances has taught me so much about myself. I am much more adaptable, resilient and compassionate than I thought I was. And these qualities, which I have discovered or cultivated, will stay with me when my current problems are replaced with new ones. 

End of Teaching

 Today was the last day of teaching for the semester. Teaching this week was a real slog and I couldn't wait to be done with it. But, now that its done I don't feel any relief. Maybe it will take for relief to set in. or maybe I am too numb and shell-shocked to feel anything. This has been a difficult week, and while things are not going to get better in India any time soon, hopefully the worst is behind us, at least in Mumbai. I must consciously make an effort not to think too far ahead, because the future looks grim. Either another Covid wave here or the West will seal its borders to India. I don't know when I will see my family again. I must traverse the uncertainty of post-PHD life against this backdrop. So be it. Despite all that has happened, I am still here and I am not just surviving I am thriving, as much as is possible during a time like this. 

Referencing

 I hate referencing and always it leave it to the end. But referencing has come to the rescue during this dark week. With news of deaths pouring in from India. I am having trouble focusing on writing the methodology chapter of my thesis. So, I have decided to work on the tedious task of referencing. Tedium is exactly what I need at this point in time. Something that keeps the mind occupied but doesn't make heavy demands of it. It also gives me a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day, and the satisfaction that I have done something during the day, apart from doom-scrolling. Hopefully, the blues will pass and I will be able to get back to my writing soon enough. 

Early Morning Dread

 When I switched airplane mode off this morning, I saw a message that Pravin uncle had passed on. This is the second time I have turned my phone on to news of death in less than two weeks. I had slept well last night after news of Ashima aunty's death had wrecked my sleep the previous night. Bad news in the morning wrecks your day, bad news in the evening wrecks your sleep, which wrecks the next day too. I knew this would be a tough month, but anticipating something doesn't necessarily prepare you better for it. This is the World of our times--a cataclysmic event that has touched everyone in India. its safe to venture that most people in India at least knew one person who has died. The old and the inform are not the only ones who are dying, this wave seems to be hitting the not so old and the relatively healthy. The future is disspiriting. As I see it, it involves another wave here later in the year or Fortress Britain. Wither prospect is pretty grim. I have on clue when I will be able to vvisti India again. 

Outer Circle of Friends

 After journo school right up to the time I went to Holland, I was in touch with about 10-15 of my classmates. I initially worked in Delhi, where most of my classmates were. Even when I moved back to Mumbai, there were a fair number of people working in the city. I got along well my work colleagues in business journalism but didn't really hang out with the outside of work, except for one or two. My social circle in Bombay was limited to my school friends and my ACJ friends. I also visited Delhi at least once a year, when I would meet many more people from ACJ. All that changed after I went to Holland and later moved to Bristol. I fell out of touch with everyone except for 3-4 people. Many of the people I fell out of touch with were people I once considered good friends if not close friends. Over the years, I have also become less keener about putting in the effort to maintain friendships especially when it opposite party doesn't as much enthusiasm. I say this without bitterness or malice. Life takes us in different directions, both physically and emotionally. I am not the person I was 12 years ago in journo school, and neither are, I suspect, many of my classmates. Some friendships grow, others wither, that is life. Even the pandemic last year didn't push me to reconnect with many people. 

But, this wave is different. Today, I reached out to some of those good friends from ACJ that I had lost touch with. Some of them were thrilled to see me, others less so. Conversation dried up pretty quickly in some cases, as I suspected it might. Other conversations resulted in tentative plans to Zoom. All I knew is if I didn't get in touch at a time like this, I would never get in touch with them. When the present is fraught, it is not a bad idea to take comfort in memories. And, these people were part of my past, and a mostly happy past, at that. 

The Year of Tears

 If 2020 was the year of fear, 2021 is the year of tears. Just as I got home after a nice day out with friends, I learnt that one of the aunties of my childhood--mothers of my friends--had died. So, the second death of someone I knew personally. I wonder what the tally will be at the end of the year. II hope I am not overdramatizing for literary effect, There are deaths that bruise you, deaths that singe you and deaths that break you. In my life, I have experienced several of the first category, just one of the second category and none of the last category. Countless people in India are experiencing and will experience the second and the third categories of losses. How does one cope with such a year? Cry more, laugh more and try to keep busy in the intervals, I guess. I wonder what rituals we will develop to mourn the people we lose.

Indian State Election Results

 I was talking to my cousin today, who wondered aloud whether India would still wait for Modi the next time around. The cousin's initial attitudes towards Modi, in my estimation, ranged from favourable to ambivalent. But, as more people get converted to the anti-Modi cause, people like me, who have detested Modi since the Guajarat riots of 2002, have other concerns. My concern is what shape India will be in by the time the next general election rolls around/ Will it still be a functional state? I have always argued that fascism, beyond a point, cannot be contained. It either has to be vanquished, like in WWII, or it burns itself out, as well as burning much of its surroundings. I hadn't imagined fascism in India would burn so quickly and in such spectacular fashion. Which is why I am indifferent to the state election results due tomorrow. One of the states is West Bengal, which Modi and his cronies have been eyeing for nearly a decade. If they win, it would be the biggest feather in the Hindutva cap. I admit I would be marginally happier if they lose. But, they is no looking away from the damage they have done and will do until the next general election.