Mice!

 Today, when I got back from London, I saw an open bin with a stick propped up against it standing in the hall. I thought my Irish housemate had gone crazy again. But, then, my crazy housemate walked in and engaged me in a long conversation about our mice infestation. The contraption in the hall was his plan to catch a mouse and he had an even better one--to get a cat. I can imagine few things worse than him having a cat as a pet. But, at least I have some much needed clarity. I need to get out of this house asap. Earlier, I was in two minds about whether to wait till I return from India in Jan. But, I shudder to think about what state I will find the house when I come back in Jan. 

Ghosting on SpareRoom

  I don't like ghosting people nearly as much as I don't like being ghosted. But, its easy for me to say, because, as a guy on a dating app, I am not bombarded by messages and neither do I have to worry about the opposite person turning aggressive. I remember a line from a HIndi poem we studies at school, which I still find pithy and sobering, although I can imagine how it could easily be appropriated by the right. It says "A merciful nature is a virtue only for the powerful, the question of being merciful doesn't arise if you are weak and powerless.". Its easy to say I don't ghost people when I don't have too many opportunities for ghosting, and replying to people is not a massive time sink. But, I digress. I started writing this post because I have been ignoring messages on spareroom from people wanting to buddy up with me. I know I shouldn't feel guilty but as I am writing this post, it is occurring to me that I should keep a more open mind about buddying up. Maybe I will meet a dream housemate this way and we will find our dream house. 

Low Expectations vs Open Mind

Maybe it is the state of the world, maybe it is the state of my mind, but I find it difficult to excited about stuff. So much so, that I cannot remember the last time I was excited about anything. Excited enough not to have to feign excitement even a bit. But, this is not a whine about how grey my life has become. The advantage of low expectations is that they limit your disappointment. If you don't have far to fall, you don't fear the fall. If an event gets cancelled, well, it wasn't going to be a riot anyway. Don't get me wrong. I wish I was able to get more excited about stuff. But, if I am not able to, the next best thing to do is not fret about it. And, life occasionally surprises you for the better. Events that you didn't have much hope for, turn out to be fun. Maybe, calling it low expectations is the wrong way to think about it. Maybe it is going into things with an open mind. 

Trip To Leicester

I have been trying to put my finger on what unsettles me about being in Leicester, and I think I have put my finger on it. It is a magnet for recent migrants from India and definitely feels like India. The Indians there dress like Indians from the plains visiting hill stations. Lots of scarfs, mufflers and even monkey caps. My feelings about India and Indians are complicated and now is not the time to get in to them. But, Leicester is a glimpse of what India would look like if it was only populated by middle-class Indians.

Stand-Up Comedy Show

I went for a stand-up comedy show last evening, and as luck would have it, I a the first to be picked on. Fortunately, the net person he picked on turned out to be gold mine, so it wasn't so bad. The stand-up acts were quite funny, and I am glad I went. but, I do admit to feeling a bit jealous of the wit and the charm of the stand-ups, who were all male. It reinforced the feeling that I have become dumber and less funny over the past two years. Also, I had gone with a meet-up group, and I didn't enjoy the small talk that I had to make wit them. Yes, I know. I find going to a performance by myself weird, and going with a random group of people barely tolerable. But, enough whining, most of the acts were great, and I am glad that I went. 

Six Years Since I Started My PhD

 I started my PhD journey six years ago today. At that time, I didn't imagine it would take so long. But, neither did I imagine I would have to suspend my PHD within five month and take almost a year out. Neither did I or anyone else imagine the hellscape that the world would turn into over the years. And, it is important to keep that in mind. Yes, I have not moved ahead in life anywhere as much as I thought I would. My personal, professional, social and intellectual lives are a shadow what I had imagined for myself by this stage of my life. But, the world is burning, and I am still standing. Milestones are a reminder of how far you have come, but not necessarily on the road you set out on. 

Intellectual Conversations

 I usually enjoy intellectual conversations, but there was something off about the one I had on the mett-up walk yesterday. At first, I thought it was because I have lost a great deal of intellectual confidence since I started my PhD. And, then, I remembered my time with Shyam in the US. The mark of an intellectual conversation is you are too absorbed in it to think about your pride or whether you are appearing smart. I think it was because we had a minor argument before we had properly established a rapport. I can get a bit aggressive when arguing without meaning to and though I have grown more conscious of that over the years, I suppose some of the aggression lingers. I remember on the US trip when Shyam and I were having a heated and perfectly good-natured argument, the others in the car thought we were rowing. But, without a rapport you don't know if the other person is holding on to their position out of pride or out of genuine belief, and being human, you tend to assume the former. 

Friendships After Covid

The past two years have been, at best, weird, and worst, horrifying for everyone, I said to a friend who was apologizing for not being very present. She ascribes her behaviour to being in a relationship that she now recognizes was extremely toxic. I had noticed that she had become bit of stranger. We did not break off all contact but when we spoke it felt like I was talking to a different person. But since she lives across the Atlantic, and given what was happening, I thought that was understandable. At the time, I was going through a rough patch with one of my closest friends in the UK, which was taking up all my reserves of anger and animosity. But, today for the first time, this other friend sounded like the person I knew. She is someone who played a big role during my troubles, and I hope I have offered her some support. In any case, I am glad to have her back in my life. 

Brandon Hill In the Dark

 This evening, after a date that ended a bit sooner than I expected, I tramped up to Brandon Hill, one of the first places I visited when I Bristol six years ago and still my favourite place in the city. This is not a post about my life in Bristol. I will save that for another day when I am feeling less sleepy. This is a darkness and solitude appreciation post. The street lights had been switched off atop Brandon hill, possibly to save electricity. That also kept many people away I suppose. Tonight wasn't as peaceful as my night walks on Scheveningen beach, But, it was the closest since then. For some people, finding companionship or company is the cure for loneliness. For others, solitude is the cure. I think I belong to the second category. 

Accepting Apologies

The most important people skill is the ability to say that you are sorry. A less important skill is the ability to accept compliments. Between the two, is the ability to accept apologies. What comes in the way of accepting apologies? It could be anger that is not easily quelled. But, it could also be guilt for seeking an apology. It could also be surprise that a sought apology was easily offered. Today, an office mate poked fun at me in front of one of his students. I didn't retaliate, even though I am sure he wouldn't have minded. I just don't think academics should poke fun at each other to get a laugh out of their students. 

Pride in My Students

 Today, I received word that some of my seminar students had won a prize in a group video challenge. The prize is not a big deal and my only contribution to their victory was nominating them as the best entry from my seminar group. That was not a heard decision either as they were head and shoulders above everyone else. But I still felt very proud of them.  Maybe I have reached an age where I can feel paternally towards 18-year-olds. But, to feel pride in someone else's achievements that is undiluted by indifference or envy is a buoyant feeling. 

Housemate Drama

 Today's post was always going be about housing, but its now what I thought it would be up till about an hour ago. My stoner housemate sent an email sent an email asking me and the other Indian to make less noise in the morning. To be fair to him, it was as polite as he could manage. He has been the bane of my existence since even before Betty moved out, and I often think this house would be much more liveable if not for him. But, this post is not about the various ways in which he menaces me. I replied to his email as courteously as I could, committing to be quieter in the mornings, while requesting him to be quieter in the night. What I wasn't prepared for is the other Indian's response. I had imagined him to be a deep sleeper who isn't disturbed by the pothead talking loudly on the phone and stomping up and down the stairs at night. But this dude didn't hold back. He told the stoner that he was often woken up by a cacophony in the middle of the night. Its such a relief to know that I am not the only one who finds him annoying. 

Hold On and Wait

 I saw a tweet today which struck a chord. It read There was a stage this year when I thought I would never have another funny or strange story to tell because life was so hard and I thought nothing could be magical again and life, she really surprises you, you just have to hold on and wait sometimes'. Hold on and Wait. In a previous post I had asked if there is any better advice about life than ride the waves and cling on during troughs. In the past few weeks, months and years, I have repeatedly tormented myself about what I should do differently to make life more manageable? Lower my standards when it comes to new houses, whether to go off or on dating apps, what I should be doing about my shoulder, my career prospects, etc. And, yet, I realise that what I probably need to do is hold on and wait. Wait and watch. To wait for the clouds to part, rather than try to pull them apart myself. Because the clouds will part, eventually, the sun will shine, this is the circle of life, everything is cyclical.

Sharing My Experience With Anxiety

 yesterday, I spoke with an acquaintance of a friend who is struggling with anxiety. My friend thought hearing my own experience of dealing with anxiety would help him. I sometimes forget what an achievement it is that I was able to submit a PhD that I am not satisfied. That a few years ago, there was no guarantee that I would continue with my PhD. I don't see it as a big achievement because the thought of quitting never once crossed my mind back then. But what if It had taken me longer to recover? "I took a year out of my PhD to deal with my health" sounds almost normal. But, I two or three years doesn't. Hearing stories of people who are still struggling with long Covid I feel very lucky. But, I should feel proud of myself. Yes, I had the support of friends, family and well-wishers and couldn't have done it without them. But, the prime mover in my recovery was me. I should remind myself of this achievement more often. 

Blogging Is A Habit

I miss blogging, and yet have struggled to get back into the habit. The experience of writing a PhD has left me quite diffident about my writing skills and my researching skills. Its been a while since anyone has praised my writing or my research, and anyone with a weaker tendency for overconfidence my have crumbled by now. But, the point is I miss blogging, I miss writing for pleasure, writing with an explicit purpose, writing that none else would likely read, but writing that is still out there in the world. Its like the difference between singing in an open field with no one around, and singing in your head. I nearly gave up blogging when I realised how personal my blog had become, how I had slowly shed my inhibitions, turning the blog from a chronicle of my musings into a personal diary. I was uncomfortable with how much I had potentially exposed myself to the world. I am still trying to figure this conundrum out, but I am determined to keep blogging. Its a salve for both my loneliness and my overthinking. There, I said the L world. I am someone who relishes solitude, but solitude is hard to find in Tory England. Well, it is what it is. All I know is I'm a happier person when I'm blogging, I am out of the PhD purgatory, and there is no reason not to blog. If someone stumbles and gets a view into my deep, dark mind, they are welcome to it. 

Housemate Travails

 My friends often tell me I should write a book about my housemates experiences. I am sure I have enough anecdotes for a book. As I keep telling people--I started out dreaming that I would live with friends, then I lowered my expectations to people who are clean, quiet and non-crazy, then just quite and not crazy, and now just not crazy. I am in the middle of another war at the moment, and its not pleasant. Something has changed after Long dengue and confrontation stresses me out no end. I realise that eventually he will move and I will move, and his exploits will just be a dinnertable story. But, the interim period is painful, and I have half-heartedly searching for places. The rental scene is not pretty.

PhD Submitted

 I submitted my PhD between classes on Monday, About five weeks ago, I realised that the end wouldn't be as I had imagined when I started. The past few weeks/months/years have been intense that there is so much to process, so much to ponder., that I don't know where to start. But, start I must. All the pressing won't happen through this blog. I gave up blogging late last year, when I realised my blog has become therapeutic writing and that I wouldn't be comfortable with strangers reading it because it offered too much of a window into me. and, then, my PhD consumed me, leaving little appetite or energy for any other form of writing. But, I miss writing, and I miss blogging so I am going to try to resume writing more regularly. 

Reserving Judgement

 Am I a good supervisee? Is my supervisor good? If you ask me these questions today, I would unhesitatingly answer No and No. But, today, is not a good time to answer these questions. I am still in the eye of the storm, emotions and stress are running high and I am seeing everything through rage-tinted glasses. Maybe I should reserve judgement on both these questions until some time has past. Or, forever. Maybe we are both doing the best we can, and that is all there is to it. 

Couples Breaking Up

I have been fretting about my PhD, and a friend I will be visiting the day after just told me she is houseless. She had a massive tiff with her ex-boyfriend and current housemate and has had to leave her home in a hurry. I am also witnessing a 17-year-old marriage crumble on  twitter and even though I don't know the person, I feel sad at how a break-up seems to bring out the worst in people. Or, change people for the worse. Having never been in a long-term relationship, I can't pretend to understand what a break-up feels like. But, even from my remote vantage point it sounds terrible. 

Irrational Anger

I have spent the past few days feeling furious at someone in my professional life. And, I know for a fact that my anger is mostly irrational. The person hasn't done anything to even remotely justify the strength of my feeling. And, I have realised that feelings aren't sacrosanct. Adrienne has a class where she talks about the possibility of controlling your feelings, or at least trying. For a long time, I disagreed with that view (and still disagree with her use of the word 'control'). Having spent a large part of my life repressing how I felt about someone, I was all for letting feelings flow freely. But, people grow and hopefully I have come out of the phase where I had to consciously not repress my feelings. 

No, you can't force yourself to feel or not feel a certain way. But, you can talk yourself down on the anger scale or up a few notches on the mood scale if you realise that your feelings are not based in reality. I use the word rational carefully, but reason has its uses even in matters of the heart. And self-talk can be a vital buffer between your feelings and your subsequent actions. 

Anger at a person is rarely just that. I know for a fact that in this case, my anger at her is partly my anger at myself and my jealousy for her intelligence and success. Unpeeling anger is very useful. It doesn't mean you won't feel that angry again soon, but at least you know that anger will not be overpowering. 

Desperation and Determination

One off my PhD colleagues who finished last year told me he wrote most of his PhD in 6 weeks. During those 6 weeks, he did nothing else. In his telling, he would wake up and work on his PhD until his brain couldn't take it any more. Almost every day for six weeks. I was wondering when I would be able to work in similar frenzied fashion, and I think finally the wait is over. I have been working in as close to a frenzy as I can for the past two days. I have four days more before I leave for Brighton and exactly one month until I leave for the U.S. For more than a year, I have been trying to get my theoretical framework in to shape, and finally I feel like I have reached a do-or-die stage. I can't imagine having to cancel my US trip because I am too far behind on my PhD. There are other reason I might have to call it off--cancelled flight, Covid, some other hell--but not because of my PhD. I feel a heady mix of desperation and determination. 

Elements Again

 Today, I restarted Elements, the bodyweight programme that had shown promising results for my shoulder last year for a bit. My last physio (number 4) turned out to be a dud. He is out of ideas but too roud to admit so. he didn't change a single exercise from last time. So, I have decided to drop him and go back to Elements. But, this time I am going to do it differently. I am going to take it super-slow. Just 30-mins three times a week instead of 45-minites five times a week. I am also going to try to obsess less about my shoulder. My problem has always been trying to rush my recovery, doing the shoulder rehabilitation exercises with a vengeance. This time I am going to take my time. If I look less buffed, so be it. If my tummy looks less taut, so be it. 

Holiday in Cornwall

The Cornwall holiday failed to meet even my low expectations. Why the low expectations? Because I am not a seaside person, because the weather forecast was not great, and because the friend I was with is not a soul friend.  She is a dear friend, but I have come to realise that you can have dear friends whom you would rather not spend extended lengths of time with. But, that is the subject of another blog post. I caught a cold a day before my Cornwall trip, and the wind and the intermittent sun of Cornwall made it worse. This particular cold has given me food for thinking about my relationship with exercise and whether it turns abusive at times. I knew fully well it was not a great idea to go for a hill run before a day and night out, but I still did. And, I am paying the price. I don't expect to find all the answers today, and maybe there are no clear answers. So, I am just going to leave it at that. 

Sore Throat Before Hols

 As luck would have it, I woke up with a sore throat this morning. Not great timing, since I am due to go to Cornwall tomorrow. I spent most of the morning moping, but then the day got better, even though my throat didn't. I also met my friends for dinner in the evening, after apprising them of the situation, and making sure they were ok with me attending. It was pouring when I left for dinner, and I arrived at the restaurant drenched. I didn't feel great during the dinner, but I forced myself to make conversation. And, do you know what, it worked. My mood lifted as dinner progressed and by the end of the dinner, I was feeling buoyant. I was hit by the micro-epiphany that the worst that could happen was that I would test positive for Covid and have to cancel the vacation and lose a fair bit of money. I am on the path to cultivating a more healthy relationship with money, so I am confident that that bit won't rankle. The only other thing to worry about was not to give a cold to my friend. I could take adequate precautions with that. I am fortunate that a cold doesn't knock me out completely.

Betty Leaves Tomorrow

Betty is moving out tomorrow. One year ago I would have jumped for joy at this news. However, although Betty has long ceased to be my chief tormentor, her sullen presence was a bit of a dampener on my mood. We must have barely spoken a few words to each other since that incident last April. And, there would be periodic reminders that silent Betty does not equal stable Betty. We have had the ambulance service us a couple of times in the wee hours of the morning, most recently this morning. The possibility that she might take the ultimate step was not far-fetched. And although I had mentally dissociated myself from her, I will feel relieved by her departure. She is a like a powder keg with slightly moist powder. Not a clear threat but you never know. 

She might not be my chief tormentor at the moment, but  cumulatively she has by far given me the most grief. She remained one of the least considerate people I've met.  I sometimes wonder how I put with all of it. I had decided that she and the Irish guy were the kind of people who only give you bad surprises. The only good surprise they could possibly provide is news of their  departure.  I have been proven wrong about the Irish guy, but that's a story for another day. So, yes, I will be glad to see the back of Betty. 

Sunday Scaries

There is a prompt on Hinge which says "How do I fight eh Sunday scaries. It apparently means feelings of anxiety and dread ahead of a new week. I have had my own version of Sunday scaries for the past few weeks, but  my source of anxiety has not been work, but dating. The stories are too complicated to get into  but suffice to say that a lot of the anxiety was self-inflicted and avoidable. Fortunately, this Sunday has been peaceful on that front. 

The Appeal of Jack-Ass

 I have been watching the Jack Ass collection since yesterday. It features a bunch of adventure sports-types pulling stunts and pranks designed to provoke outrage either because of the danger involved or because they are disgusting. The cast members not performing the stunt chortle with laughter when the person performing the stunt is doubled over in pain or retching their guts out. So, why do I enjoy such mindless TV?

Firstly, their talent, their willingness to put their bodies through excruciating pain and court the possibility of life-changing injuries or death is not be scoffed at. These are special people and what they do could be considered an art form. Secondly, with a world that increasingly resembles a dystopian hellscape, mindless TV has its own charm. Jack-ass kind of entertainment appeals to something primitive in us. The urge to laugh when someone falls or gets kicked in the nuts. Importantly, there is no hint of guilt because the people undergoing the pain have a high degree of pain tolerance and get paid millions to perform the stunts and pranks. Also, the fact that a clip made it to film means that the person involved didn't die or was maimed. That said, there are certain pranks that are too disgusting to watch. As an aside, it is amazing how big a role the mind plays in a retching response. 

More Haikus

 I have written before about how prose is not equal to the task of offering solace or succour in periods of great tumult. For that we must turn to poetry. I am no poet, but I can write middling Haikus, or at least I enjoy trying. So here are two I wrote recently:

A guilty silence cannot be shamed into speech

Words cannot be willed out of a closed heart

Lesson Learnt

Peace be upon those who've wronged me

Peace be upon those will wrong me

Just let there be peace

School Shooting

 There was a school shooting in the US yesterday and it has been weighing on my mood. You may be able to get inured  to every possibility, but babies being murdered in cold blood will still be able to crack through the facade. NOt in a war zone, not collateral damage, but in a "peaceful" country, targeted because they were children. By someone who wanted to inflict as much pain to as many people as he possibly could. What else is there to say?

A Slip Is Not A Fall

 Today, I broke my self-imposed rule about how to deal with ghosters. I texted two people who had recently ghosted me. One I had barely chatted with and didn't terribly mind being ghosted by. The other I had met twice and did terribly mind being ghosted by. I had made up my mind not to text her, But I slipped. In my defence, I had a logistical excuse, albeit a flimsy one. I realised I had been waiting for even the weakest reason to text here again, and I jumped when said reason presented itself. What if there actually was a logistical issue? Seems silly to inadvertently end things with someone even if there is an one-in-million chance that logistical issues came in the way? Aww, the stories we tell ourselves. I realise I have ripped the band-aid off a wound that was healing well. Ghosters cannot be guilted into communication because ghosting someone requires an absence of guilt to some extent. If not replying to your first message doesn't make them feel guilty, you second message won't make them feel guilty either. You just feel like a tit for having tried.

But, I am trying not be too hard on myself. Sometimes, it is essential to feel like a tit so that hard lessons are reinforced. To accept that you will sometimes do things that you know are bad for you. But, a slip is not a fall. It is not going to take me another week to get over her. 

Jaa, Jeel le Apni Zindagi

 This is a dialogue from the biggest Bollywood hit of the 1990s. It means 'Go, lie your life as you please', and it is my go-to mantra for the next few days/weeks/months. It conveys neither opprobium nor approval, just light-hearted resignation. A friend texted today that she won't be able to make it on a holiday trip. I don't want to get in the details but my firs response was anger. But, my anger soon melted away and I mouthed this dialogue to her in my mind, even though she doesn't speak Hindi. Its a crazy world that is only going to get crazier, and people close to us will do things that may seem crazy to us, and vice versa. In the grand scheme of things those acts of craziness do not matter. I am taking the same attitude towards the girl who ghosted me (in my mind, of course). Anxiety gave way to indignation and which has now given way to resignation. 

Oven Fire (Almost)

 This evening, I was in my room when I heard my housemate call out to me. This is the housemate with whom my rapport has soured after he threatened to punch me a few months ago. We barely glance at each other, much less speak to each other, so I was a bit startled when he called out to me. But, then, he said he needed my help because the oven was on fire. I rushed down, thinking about what to do. Turns out the fire had gone out by the time I go the kitchen. He had thrown a ton of water on it, and had possibly been alarmed by the smoke. But, what surprised me was my reaction to this non-incident. I didn't start trembling with anxiety, and neither did I feel anger towards my housemate. The shades of the old Sudeep who was the person people turn to during a crisis. I would pride myself on keeping my nerve when the shit hits the fan. I am also hoping that this incident will serve as a reset for my relationship with my housemate. I found it a bit endearing to see how rattled he was. We live in a crazy world that is only going to get crazier, so how long can one hold on to grudges?

On Ghosting (Again)

 As I am in the process of being ghosted, I thought it would be good to read my posts on the subject from 2018. They are dripping with wisdom, if I may so myself, and I don't have much to add. The only point I disagree with is that I had said Ghosting doesn't affect me much anymore. Naturally, it depends on who is doing the ghosting and how invested you are in them or in the prospect of a relationship. What I do notice is that ghosting is one the rise. I don't know if the pandemic and the other craziness in this world has anything to do with it. I have been ghosted by about half a dozen people over the past 6 months. Most didn't singe, because I wasn't invested too much in them. But, the fact is that I have never ghosted anyone, or at least anyone sane. I learnt from a girl last year that it was polite to send a "I am going to go my own way" message after a dead-end date. If women who are scared how a man will react can do it, I have no excuse. Yes, ghosting doesn't come in the way of closure. But, it does delay closure and life is short, if there is no prospect of romance its best to move on and let the other person know so they can move on too. as I have written before, I consider ghosting someone you've never met in person acceptable in most circumstances. But people you've met deserve a response. 

The Thwarted Prospect of Love

There are so many expressions for thwarted love, surely there should be some for the thwarted prospect of love? I went on a second date after aeons yesterday, and there was no spark of romance. Before the date, my head was in the clouds. I had me someone I fancied after ages, after all. But it turns out I fancied her in her absence. There had been a two-week gap between our first and second dates, and my loved-starved heart had filled up the gap with dreams of our life together. I realise this doesn't make me particularly naive or fanciful. A book I read recently had this quote from Proust: "We fall in love for a smile, a look, a shoulder. That, is enough; Then in the long hours of hope or sorrow, we fabricate a person, we compose a character'. Freud said projection is the essential character of every love. It had taken me more than that to fall--scintillating conversation with s super-smart and attractive woman on our first date. But, it was not to be, and I felt like a deflated balloon after the date. The conversation wasn't bad at all, but it did feel like both of us were going through the motions. Two people who seemed great together on paper, but not in person. The journey back to earth was a hard landing for me. The patch of earth that is my life has some craters in at the moment. Love was supposed to propel me out of those craters. I guess I will have to do that myself when I find the spirit and the time. So be it. 

Hard Times

 The teaching semester is over, I am half way through my grading load, and my dating life is looking up. This summer seems like it is going to be better than the past two. Yes, I still have my PhD to finish, but I am confident that I will over the summer. In the shower today, it struck me how difficult the past eight months have been. Ever since I started this job, its been one thing after another. The stress of a new job and whether I was doing okay, catching a cold before my India trip, the stress of travelling to, within and from India, the stress of a heavy teaching load this term, catching Covid in the middle of it and taking weeks to recover from my cough. To be sure, I haven't had any major crises. Just a succession of travails one after the another without a great support network. And, having come through them, I feel stronger. 

New Cycle Ordered!

 When I got in to uni last morning, I started looking up second-hand bike shops. Then, I suddenly remembered that my uni, like most employers, has a cycle to work scheme, and I looked it up. One thing lead to another, and I ended up choosing a bike to buy, and signing up for the scheme. Today, When the approval came through, I went ahead and ordered the bike. As someone who is quite indecisive, I am quite proud of myself. My current cycle is an entry-level hybrid, and the most charitable way of describing it is it moves when I pedal my feet. But, I haven't bothered to maintain it because its cheap, and its a bit worse for wear after five years of use. Cycling is not a pleasurable experience with it, and that was fine until I was commuting to UWE. Now, the ride to uni and back feels like a slog. I deserve better, and I can afford better. I didn't have the patience to scour second-hand bike shops in the hope of finding a bike that would exactly fit my needs. So, I just went for it. I am trying to have a more healthy attitude towards money, which is fodder for another post. 

'I Want Someone Who Makes Me Laugh'

 This is one of the most common answers to the "What are you looking for?" prompt on Hinge. I used to roll my eyes when I saw it because my first reaction was it reifies the stereotype that guys are supposed be funny and women are supposed t be pretty, and guys are supposed to make women laugh. But, on second thoughts, I may be wrong. Compatibility of sense of humour is so very important in a good friendship or a romantic relationship. Broad agreement on what we find funny and what we don't find funny is a sign that we are in the company of a kindred spirit. Laughter is as spontaneous a burst of emotion as any other, and we are at our most vulnerable and least guarded when we laugh.  Compatibility of sense of humour is a form of intimacy. It is one of that chief ingredients of that all-important chemistry.

Keep The Faith

 As I was leaving, my physio told me to keep the faith. He is my fourth physio I have seen in the two years since my shoulder started giving me trouble. I have been seeing him for two months and progress has been patchy. Just like progress with my PhD. I will surely need faith to get through it. So, basically I need a lot of faith. Maybe having faith is something that can be learned and turned into a habit? 

Incomprehension

 I got an email from a student over the weekend whose research proposal I had graded. He had not understood my comments, and after reading his email I didn't understand what he hadn't understood. Neither did I understand his other questions. He is clearly not a native speaker of English, but things are not much better with those who are. As a former journalist, I take great pains to ensure that my communication is clear and comprehensible.  And, as a teacher, one has to take great pains to try to understand what students are saying or writing. It does feel like a  futile task because comprehension doesn't seem to a consideration for most people when they communicate. They don't try to put themselves in the shoes of their reader and read back their communication. A few weeks ago, I read a tweet about how obfuscation is  a handy tool of the intellectually lazy. If people can't understand what you are saying, and you have some standing, they will keep mum. but, if they can understand what you are saying, they can see the merits and faults more clearly. Clarity and intellectual rigour are intertwined. That is all very nice, but how does this stop me from tearing my hear out when communicating with students? I suppose I should learn not to expect them to understand everything I say. That is not an excuse to write gibberish., just a reminder to cut myself some slack. 

To Be Or Not To Be On A Dating App

Its been three weeks since I rejoined dating apps, and I swing between ruing and condoning my decision. Shouldn't I be focussing on getting my life in order frist? Finishing my PhD, finding another place to stay, etc. On the other hand, a) Is my life really that disorderly? b) Will it ever be orderly enough in the near future? Will there ever come a time when I feel prepared to date. On the first question, I am of sound mental and physical health, as are all my near and dear ones, and I am gainfully employed. Yes, of course, there are parts of my life that I would like to change but who doesn't? I gave up pursuing a romantic prospect last year to concentrate on my PhD, and I don't think it did much good. As for the second question, the world is going to hell in a hand-basket and I am in a precarious profession. That time in the future when I feel tranquil and stable enough to seek love might be elusive. At the same time, the pursuit of love on online dating entails significant emotional labour, and the question of whether it is the right time or whether I am ready to provide the emotional labour at that point in time are two separate ones. The answer to the first could be yes, and the answer to the second could be no. For the time being, I have decided to stay on the apps at least until my subscription runs out. But, if it starts to get too much, I may quit earlier. I have decided to log out of the apps in the morning and log in in the evening, to prevent myself from checking it too often. I tried it yesterday, and it worked. 

The Company of Non-Economists

 This afternoon, I attended a study group in which I was the only economist. And, I realised that I miss and prefer the company of non-economists. Most economists would probably know as little about my area of economics as the non-economists present today. But their attitude would be vastly different. Non-economists are generally kinder, humbler and have their heart in the right place. 

Hearing That You Are Smart

 Some people need to hear that they are smart, and some people don't need to hear that. I have long realized that I am part of the latter group. Some people are prone to diffidence, some are prone to overconfidence, some wear their intelligence lightly, both in their speech and in their heads. Others wear it lightly only in their speech and even slight success can go to their heads. 

Why Not Me?

 Today, I was listening to a radio with a woman who seemed to be a bereavement consultant as well as a sociologist of dying. Her story moved me to tears, but that wasn't all. She said people who work in these kind of jobs--funeral services, palliative care, etc-- lead life differently, love differently, etc. They understand that disaster can strike at any moment and change their lives. Since they see tragedy so closely, they do not ask the question  that most people do--"Why me?". They adopt the attitude of "Why not me?". Since they have seen tragedy up close, they relish the tragedy-free moments in their lives. I know that I make them sound like saints, but I suppose they are that, or they are just crazy. To do a job like that and to not lose your mind requires oodles of emotional resilience. But, the phrase that stuck with me, was "Why not me?"., to which there is no answer. I have had the good fortune of not having to "why me" about anything other than my nagging shoulder injury. Let's see if I can adopt the "Why not me?" attitude for at least this minor problem and whether it will help me cope with grace and foritude. 

De-Stressing Jobs

 DO stress-free jobs still exist or do all jobs need to be destressed to the extent possible? I think its the latter. The destressing can be achieved either by taking specific actions, but mainly by giving less of a fuck Easier said than done, I know, and impossible to do within the first few months of a job when you are prone to make a mountain of every molehill. It takes time to tell the potential mountains from the molehills. TO figure out which rules are sacrosanct, which ones are negotiable and which ones are meant to be broken without getting caught. After that, its just a question of finding that slight bit of courage to bend/break the rules.

Happiness Is A Choice, Not a Fate

 This is what I said to a friend yesterday, who was whining about her life. It seemed trite as it came out of my mouth,  and I wasn't looking to drop pearls of wisdom. I meant it to be ironic, but I wonder if there is some use to it. Happiness is a choice. IN today's world, one doesn't have to look hard for reasons to be sad. But, there is no disaster upon you at a point in time, is it possible to choose to be happy instead of glum? To talk yourself out of a funk? I don't know if I am making a lot of sense. I guess the proof of the pudding is in the eating. If I am able to talk myself out of the blues, maybe it is a choice.

Clocks Go Forward 2022

The clocks go forward tonight, and, as is my ritual, I did the Cozy Winter yoga practice and went back to my clocks post from the past. The last post talked bout how life had not gone according to plan but had not gone too badly either. I had not finished my PhD but at least I had a job. The past five months have been challenging, to put it mildly, and the past few weeks even more so. My brush with insomnia last November, my the rise of Omicron, my own Omicron scare, the stress of travelling to India and travelling back and my poor sleep in India. And, then coping with Covid and a heavy teaching load back in the UK. I could go on and on, and I have. But, the important thing is I am still standing and I am still hopeful. Bruised but not broken. Not that there is anything wrong with being broken, and I have been broken in the past and have had to put myself together again. But, I am not broken at this point. 

Grading Research Proposals

Yes, most students don't have a clue about what they are doing and their proposals are all over the place. Yes, it sucks that I have to be the one to teach them a bit of scholarly writing. And, I have to do it without crushing their enthusiasm and their confidence. I often feel like pulling my hair out when I am grading. So, I have discovered its important to pace myself even though I can't do grading in drips and drops--I prefer to do it in one go and be done with it. 

Coping With What A Days

 Today's post, which comes after a hiatus was supposed to be about teaching. But, I am going to save it for another day. Today marks the end of my phase of heavy teaching this semester. Now comes a tsunami of grading. But, with grading, there is nothing to do but to hold your nose and carry on till you finish. Today is a cause for celebration, because I came down Covid the week before my heavy teaching phase began. The only way the timing could have been worse is if I had come down with it the week I was teaching. It manifested as the worst throat infection I have had in 14 years. The last time I had a throat infection was back in 2008 in Delhi, following which I would catch a cold every time I exercised a bit too much. I didn't work out properly for four years after that. This one, too, took ages to pass, and I finally feel well enough to go for a run tomorrow. But, yes, the past two weeks have been tough, and its not like the semester is over. But, I got through the tough patch, and I am still standing. The teaching didn't go as great as I had planned, but more about that tomorrow. The important thing is I gave it my best shot and I am done with it. And, I have also decided to start blogging regularly again. I missed blogging and how it soothes my soul. 

Hardiness

I was at dinner with some work colleagues today. One of them was talking about her job and how one had to be hardy to do it since it involved seeing students at their worst. I immediately thought about how unhardy I feel at the moment. The module I thought would be an easy ride is stressing me out the most. The assignment brief is very unclear and students are coming to me with queries that I don't know the answer to them. I am trying not to care, but it is difficult. And, this is just the first assignment. Goodness knows what she has cooked up for the second one. What else can I do other than tell myself that its not my fault, not my problem, and not my assignment? The answer is this too shall pass.

Not-My-Probleming

 Not-my-probleming is a skill I am trying to acquire. The unit that I had thought would cause me the least stress this semester is turning out to be the most stressful. The unit director has set an assignment that even I couldn't understand. and which she could only explain to me on the third try. I am going to have to field a lot of questions ahead of the submission deadline 10 days from now. Well, so be it. I am just a tutor on this unit. I can't really alter the course of this unit and if students are having a hard time there is only so little I can do. I don't even know if students are having a hard time, maybe they are enjoying learning dodgy economics. Whatever happens is not my problem, and its not my fault. I am going to give this unit as little headspace as it deserves. 

Isoprofit Curves

 Mainstream economics makes you feel stupid and silly at the same time. Stupid, for not being able to keep up with the mental gymnastics involved in grasping mainstream econ concepts. Silly, for making the effort to grasp something that seems arbitrarily put together, unsound and useless. I had a bad tutorial today. I was not prepared well enough and I stumbled in a bunch of places. But, me evening got worse, as I got into a debate with a colleague about isoprofit curves. Usually, I take that attitude that if you want me to teach students bullshit, I won't lose sleep over it. But, occasionally, you get sucked in and you can't decide between engaging and withdrawing. I have a class to prepare for next week that might actually be fun, if I didn't have to worry about all the other bullshit. 

New Physio, New Hope

 Tomorrow, I am seeing a new physio for my shoulder, the fourth in 18 months. I am not a physio-shopper. I gave all the previous ones at least four to five visits to fix me. The first and the third one helped but only up to a point. I soon reached a plateau with them, and my efforts to get off the plateau by ramping up beyond a point resulted in me falling off the plateau. My last fall came three weeks ago, when I was trying out a new routine. Nothing cracked, or split, but I knew I had injured myself. Then, a week late I came down with Covid, so I haven't been putting much strain on my shoulder for three weeks now. To be honest, I haven't even give it much thought, with all that's happening in the world and the round of bad luck I have been having in my own life. Maybe being distracted from my shoulder problem is a good thing. I will treat it just like any other problem in my life, to be managed, not be be fixated over. Maybe all I needed to do is find the right pyhsio and not go overboard with the rehabilitation exercises. 

Levity

Amidst all the news of doom and gloom, I find myself grabbing moments of levity. Yesterday, the clip of the Indian news anchor mixing up his guests and scolding the wrong one cracked me up more than it ordinarily would have. So did the clip of the cocky Indian minister "supervising" evacuations of Indian students being put in his place by a Romanian mayor. And, today, there were the videos of Ukranians taking abandoned Russian tanks on joy rides. The war in Ukraine isn't going to end any time soon, and neither is it going to go off the news, like the situation in Afghanistan did after a few weeks. Moments of levity will be much welcomed. 

5 Hours of Teaching

My throat held up for the most part, and I didn't go to pieces. Even thought two buses didn't turn up, and the bus that did took an hour. It did feel like fate was continuing to toy with me. But, what do you do? Ride the crests, cling on during the troughs, remember? Tomorrow is another five-hour teaching day, and I am fast discovering that shelving to-do-things mentally needs practice. Taking on the stress of everything that needs to be done is a recipe for breakdown. "I will worry about this at XXX point in the future". Maybe I will be able to do a better job of its if I worried about it now, but too bad. The world is growing madder by the day, and me teaching dodgy economics slightly less badly isn't going to make a hoot of difference. 

HET Lecture/Seminar Tomorrow

 I have to give a two-hour lecture/seminar twice tomorrow. I am nervous because it is on a topic that I am far from an expert in. It is also a topic that it takes to build expertise in. I am nervous about two things i) being asked questions for which I haven't the foggiest idea and being shown up by a smart ass (of which I have been warned) 2) Finishing my 35 slides within 20 minutes and the seminar earlier. The last time I had to give a lecture I had practiced it to time. This time I don't have the time or energy. What is to be done? About the first, be open about the fact that you are also new to the topic, that excites you and doesn't intimidate you. Two, if there is someone who knows more than you, welcome it. Don't take a challenge as a personal affront. The fact is that I am instinctively a good teacher, so I don't have to try hard to remember these points. On the second point, prep a bit more. Jot down the points you want to make so you don't forget. And, think of it as an active exercise, not passive speech delivery. You might think of something while you are lecturing. All and all, I know I have done my best in quite challenging circumstances. It feels like life has thrown everything and the kitchen sink at me these past few weeks. And, I am still standing. 

Fate's Endless Demands

It feels like just as I adjust to a situation life throws me an unnecessary curveball. My Covid turned out to be the worst cold I have had in months. Today, was the first day that I felt that I was clearly on the mend. But, that came after a rough night in which I woke up sweating and struggled to fall asleep later. I had to calm myself down by saying that whatever has happened and whatever will happen is not my fault. It worked, and I managed to get a bit of fitful sleep after that. Towards the evening, I sent an email to my boss asking if I could move tomorrow's class online. I expected a straightforward yes, but it was not to be. Apparently, the uni wou;d rather endanger the health of staff and students than move classes online. I shouldn't have asked, so if I was caught, I could have plead ignorance. but, too late for now. There are so many decisions I have made over the last two years that I regret that I wouldn't know where to begin or end. Why start making a tally now? The world is going crazy, the threat of nuclear war doesn't seem very distant, and classes should not move online is the hill that uni administrators would choose to kill people on. Dodgy economics must be taught, come hell or high water. So, I mailed the timetabling team and got a out-of-office reply. Not my problem. I mailed my students and told them tomorrow's class is cancelled. That problem has been dropped into a drawer and I have slammed the drawer shut. It will be opened later in the week. Or not, I don't care. I am going by the book this time, having learnt my lesson not to go by the book next time. 

Hey-ho, such is life, or such is life now. 

What A Days

 My last post was titled 'What A Day' and was written about two weeks ago. There have been a few more binfires after that. My shoulder has taken a turn for the worst (I think) since it started acting up two years ago. We were set upon by storms last week, which showed no sign of letting up. And, when they did I came down Covid. Even the mundane stuff over the past two weeks happened with more drama than required. I spent a few days going back and forth over which physio to pick for my shoulder. I was anticipating a long wait so imagine my surprise when I got an appointment for this week. Except that life was not done messing with me. The same evening my Covid symptoms came on. The following morning I went back and forth over whether to get tested, and I immediately regretted it after getting tested, as I knew I would whichever course of action I chose. This morning I woke up to find that I had tested positive and sank back into my bed. Apart from the physical discomfort of being sick, there would now be the logistical bother of moving my teaching online and keeping myself fed without taking help from my housemates or ostensibly breaking quarantine. I pretended I hadn't seen the message and went to the shops the first thing in the morning when there is barely anyone about. I then broke the news to my housemates, parents and friends. 

After the rocky start, the day picked up. I taught, prepared for next week's seminar and cooked. And, I also began to feel pride in how I have copped. Yes, luck has not been on my side for the past few weeks. But, I have coped quite well. And, I don't feel like I am going to pieces like I was six months ago. There have been cracks in the roof and there may be more cracks in the coming days, but the roof has not caved in. As I write this, my fever has picked up again, setting off a train of worries about what will happen if I don't recover by next week. Well, there will be more logistical adjustments to be made but that's not the end of the world. That is happening and will happen in its own time, my actions of fortune will have no influence on it whatsoever. Life will continue to unfurl, my luck will turn (hopefully for the better). Is there any better wisdom about life than to ride the crests and cling on during the troughs?

What a Day

What a day! It started with a flat tyre and ended with me being threatened with a punch to the face by my housemate. Actually, it ended with him apologizing to me, which was good of him or the least he could do. I messaged my landlady telling her what happened, but I deleted the messages before she had read them and after he apologized. Maybe I should have let her know all the same, but I could really do without the bother. I don't know whether I will be cold or warm towards him from this point on. I will behave according to how I feel. When he threatened me, he actually looked like he would punch me. For a while,I thought maybe I should have goaded him on and taken the punch. That would have been a solid reason to have him kicked out, and I would finally know what it feels like to be punched in the face. It would also have caused a whole lot of unpleasantness  and my sleep would have been out of the window. Him apologizing and me accepting was the best possible outcome. I did not feel very emasculated either. He looks like he has been in punch-ups before, and I am reasonably sure he would have messed up. But, this experience made me realise that I don't have to live this way. I can afford a bigger place with fewer and saner housemate, and I am going to take baby steps in that direction. 

Social Media

It is a truism to say that spending too much time on social media is bad for mental well-being. But, why? I am not going to talk about its addictive nature. For me, its bad because it constantly shows you the extremes of human condition. It shows you people at their best and at their worst, both in terms of their behaviour and their achievements and failures/misfortunes. Constantly hearing about how great (some) people are doing can excite envy and insecurity. it is one thing to know that there countless people who are infinitely smarter, more talented, more hardworking, more fortunate and more successful than you, and it quite another to have that fact demonstrated to you everyday. On the other hand, constantly hearing about how badly (some) people are doing can spark anything from despondency, fear (that that thing might happen to us) and guilt (for finding life difficult even in the absence of a personal calamity). The banal middle of the human experience is missing on social media. It is healthy to see normal people going about their mundane lives,, with nothing terrific or terrible to report. But, of course, that is boring. Which is why the best strategy is to reduce time spent on social media. 

Back to Yoga

The past five weeks have been my longest break from yoga and blogging. I have gone off blogging because I suddenly realised its a blog on the internet and could potentially be read by anyone. What started as musing on life had morphed into occasional musings and more frequently grumblings about MY life. The blog has become more of a personal diary and a window into my soul. I am not comfortable about that and I am not sure how to proceed. The blog started as a collection of insights I had gleaned about life, armed with emotional and intellectual tools acquired during the previous year. Maybe I am done with the easy pickings of wisdom and any additional wisdom is much harder to acquire. But, as I ponder about the future of this blog (in a post on the blog), I am happy to report that I have not gone off yoga permanently. I did a session today and it felt like I imagine a comfort blanket would feel. That is extremely reassuring.