The Last Burst

 Over the past month or so, I have occasionally indulged myself in self-pity, telling myself that I am never going to finish my phD, I am never going to be able to fix my shoulder, and I am never going to get %$#^ again. There is no harm in the occasional wallow in self-pity but this is the time to spring into action. From tomorrow, I start working on the first two "I will never .."s. I have had some time away from my PhD now. It wasn't a vacation,  but I will be able to look at my PhD with fresh if not refreshed eyes. This has been a very lonely journey and I have had to be my own counsellor. My confidence is frayed from successive job rejections and my struggle to finish thePhD. I've had to dig deep into myself and find reserves of fortitude that I didn't know existed. And I have discovered that I am more emotionally resilient than I thought I was. Yes, my PhD has been delayed beyond my wildest fears, yes, I am struggling to find even a temporary job, but I am still here, and that is what counts. Showing up during the lean patches, trying to keep one's spirits up while riding out the storm or riding away from the storm. 

Taking Heart From the Olympics

 Today was the last day of athletics at the Olympics and there were some stellar performances. The Dutch athlete of Ethiopian origin who won the 10000m after winning the 5000m and coming third in the 1500m. She collapsed a few seconds after crossing the finish line. The Russian high-jumper who couldn't compete in Rio because of Russia's doping ban and won gold today under the banner of the Russian Olympic Committee. To say the Olympics showcases the triumph of the human spirit against impossible odds is a cliche. But, it is true. Watching uniquely talented and supremely driven athletes win, lose, screw up, cry with joy, cry with disappointment is a heart-warming experience.  And, the stories of injuries, of bad luck, of cruel nicknames given to those who come so close but never make it. The stories of teenagers winning medals on one hand, and of athletes in the twilight of their careers winning a medal for the first time. I often wondered why athletes who never place higher than fifth or sixth bother competing at all, especially in events which have freakishly talented athletes who are miles ahead of them and always will be. Because if they didn't, their lives would be less rich and less fulfilling. It is who they are. I also often wonder about the athletes who celebrate personal bests with as much gusto as if they had won a medal. I suppose because you have to define success on your terms, especially if you are not freakishly talented. Measuring success on your terms sustains one through the tough patches, which could last weeks, months or years. 

Interview Bombed

 I bombed my interview. I was asked questions I wasn't expecting and I had to faff my way out of it. What was supposed to be a 40-minutes interview ended within 25 minutes, which I suppose is never a good sign. The only lesson I can take away from  it is to have a really solid answer ready to the question "Why do you want this job?". I didn't get to talk about my research for as long as I wanted, which might have been a good or bad thing because I wasn't very happy with my research plan. The more I think about it, the less I think I am ready for this job. Starting a job before I finish my PhD or at least I am in the home straight feels dishonest for some reason. So, my predicament is my PhD is not moving ahead, and nothing else in my life will move--dating, jobs--will move forward until I finish my PhD. Maybe I subconsciously decided to bomb at the interview because I am not ready for this job, or in my hearts of hearts I know its not right for me. Just like I bombed the interview for MICA in my final year engineering. If I learnt that I hadn't made it past the interview stage at MICA, I felt gutted, not because I really wanted to join MICA because the future felt like an infinite void. I had no idea what I wanted to do after engineering and I would have to take the trouble to figure it out, and not simply defer decision by a few years by jumping into a Mater's degree. Maybe something simily is cooking this time around too?

Channeling my Inner Adrienne

My last interview was in July 2016 for my PhD scholarship. I was still reeling from the after-effects of Dengue and the demons had started to dance in my head so I was a nervous wreck before the interview. I remember becoming so frazzled while explaining my research proposal from a word document on my desktop. I had prepared for that eventuality and the interviewers didn't realize what I was doing. One of the advantages of online interviews.

I have come a long way from then. I have given a number of presentations and also delivered lectures. It is quite unlikely I will turn into a ball of nerves tomorrow. But, I still try to channel my inner Adrienne in the interview. I love the way she talks in her interviews. Calm, trustworthy, authoritative, exuding good vibes, reassuring her listeners that all will be well. 

Mock Interview

 I had a mock interview with a friend today in preparation for the  SOAS post-doc interview on Friday. It didn't go badly. I realize that I can't anticipate and memorize the answer to every question, and don't need to. I am not a nervous speaker so I can think and answer during an interview. All I need to do is not get frazzled. What I may think is a bad answer might not come across as a bad answer to the interviewers. They can't read my mind to know that I am bull-shitting. The important thing is not to keep a cool head, and not drop the ball. My friend said I came across as confident and articulate. I have also realized that people appreciate structure in a talk. Breaking up one's talk into points makes it more comprehensible, and ease of comprehension scores a lot of points, even if the arguements are not very promising. I am going to try to structure my answers better.  That said, I am not happy with the substance of some of my answers.  Some of that has to do with my past activities, or lack thereof, and there is nothing I can do to fix that now. But, I also feel I am struggling to convey the value of my research to a non-specialist audience. I  am going to talk to my supervisor and get her views about that. 

Athletes Celebrating

Yesterday, I saw the two medal-wining high jumpers embrace each other with a passion that would make new lovers envious. Today, I saw the Indian women's hockey team give a group bear hug to their Dtuch coach after upsetting Australia in the semi-finals. a gesture that wouldn't raise an eyebrow except that these were Indian girls. The sight of athletes celebrating (o being consoled when they miss qualifying/winning by a whisker) is a sight to behold. The utter lack of self-consciousness, being completely swept up in the moment. When you get or don't get something you've worked so hard for, keeping your emotions is the last thing on your mind. I, being someone who is not given to public displays of emotion, wonder what it feels like.

Upper-Caste Pride

 Just now, I saw that a facebook friend had posted about one of her forefathers who was a very high-profile judge in British India. Apparently, he was knighted and such was his influence that trains he was travelling on would leave on his say-so. It got me thinking about when I shared a picture of my grandfather and his family when he was a young boy on a whatsapp group of friends. My great-grandfather had done extremely well in British Indian too. Obviously I take some pride in my illustrious heritage. The question is whether doing so is a manifestation of upper-caste pride. The question is somewhat important because if this is not categorized as a upper-caste pride, it becomes innocuous. My mother, to her credit, doesn't take pride in her gradfathers' exalted status. Her beef with them (I am reasonably sure) is that they collaborated with the British rule. But, did they collaborate simply for material gain or did the caste system also pay a role there. Certain castes were favoured by the British, and did quite well for themselves under British rule. If one's primary affinity was to one's caste, and if said caste was doing well under British rule, what was the problem with British rule?

It is not my place to judge other people's motives for taking pride in their family history. But, at least, in my own case, I have come around to the opinion that my pride in my family heritage is, in fact, upper caste pride.