Anything is Possible

 As I have said before, I don't do book reviews, but I do do book raves. I am on a Elizabeth Strout reading spree at the moment, and I am beginning to appreciate why she is considered one of the greatest living writers. I just finished Anything is Possible, which is a sequel to My Name is Lucy Barton. Many people have written about the accessibility and profundity of her novels. Hillary Mantel had this to say about My Name is Lucy Barton: Writing of this quality comes from a commitment to listening, from a perfect attunement to the human condition, from an attention to reality so exact that it goes beyond a skill and becomes a virtue.” I liked MNILB more than AIP, but today I am going to talk about AIP because I think I have found what to put on a new post-it note as I navigate the uncertainty about my career. The post-it note will be the title of the book, which is a shortened version of a mantra from one of my favourite Yoga with Adrienne sessions: "Trust, Accept, Remain Open to All Possibilities". Both phrases might seem unremarkable, and even trite, unless you feel their truth like I did. The novel itself is about how the ghosts from our past might not blight our lives forever. How opportunities to heal maybe be found in the most expected places and times. not 'can' but 'may', which doesn't put all the onus on the person. Because how can we ever be sure that steps we are taking to heal are making any difference, even if they are not actively hurting us? What I like about the phrase AIP is its balance between openness and acceptance. It is not "Anything can happen" which is a statement of fact devoid of deeper meaning and sets too much store on fate. Equally, its not "You can do/be anything", which feels (at least to me) like trite boosterism. Even if you have the ability and motivation to do/be what you want, fate has to line up behind you. The reason I think boosterism is dangerous is it can easily turn into self-flagellation when said goals are not realised. AIP, on the other hand, gives a nod to fate, but without surrendering to it while urging openness not just about the possibilities but also about our goals. Or at least that is how I read it. We may not know what we want or even need it until we stumble upon it. 

My First Iftaar

Today, I fasted for the first time in my life ahead of a Grand Iftaar for Palestine. Attending an iftaar without fasting if one is able to feels like copping a free meal, and since this Iftaar was dedicated to Palestine, fasting was a no-brainer. According to the rules, the fast was to begin at 4:56 am, but I decided to begin my fast after having a cup of tea and a bite to eat. I didn't need to fixate on the precise timing since I wasn't going to pray in any case, And, since I am an early riser, I figured that wouldn't be too late, and I ended up beginning my fast shortly after sunrise. I thought going without water would be the difficult bit, but I was wrong. Going without food was more difficult, but I didn't feel stomach-churning hunger pangs. it helped that I was home and the only physical activities I did was light yoga and cleaning the kitchen. The Grand Iftaar was nice and very welcoming towards non-Muslims. I am happy I fasted in solidarity for Palestine, but I don't think I will be fasting again. I didn't feel any more affinity with Palestine than I usually do. I  can imagine it being a soul-cleansing activity for believers but I am not one. . Bereft of the religious and spiritual elements, fasting is simply food and fluid deprivation. I

Clocks Go Forward 2024

The clocks went forward last night, so its time to look back on the past five months. My post from October barely mentioned Gaza, only referring to my being glad to have found my activist bone. I suppose no one at the time imagined that Israel would still be genociding after six months. Palestine has been at the top of my mind, and I have been to nearly two dozen events for Palestine. I have learnt that people can break your heart with their cruelty but can also bring you to tears their courage, and it is up to you which one to focus on. In my low moments, I feel like I spend all my time either agonizing over the situation in Gaza or my job hunt. I don't know where I will be when I write the next "clocks" post as it depends on where I find a job. All I know is that I won't be in Bristol. If I don't find a job in academia in the UK, or get turned down for the one position I have applied to in the US, I will be back in India in which case there will be no clocks post as clocks in India don't change over the year. If I return to India, it won't be by choice, and I am not going to get into the reasons for that here. I have woken up on more than a few mornings feeling anxious about my job prospects. But, the best antidote to morning anxiety is to get out of bed and get on with your day, or at least that is how I cope with it. As the job search is also a location search, I find myself weighing the pros and cons of every country. The list of cons for each country is much longer than the pros. UK is starting to resemble a developing country and academia, in particular, is a basket fire. The US is the citadel of consumer climate-destroying capitalism, is seething with Zionists, and may elect Trump again. About India, the less said the better. But, I am slowly realising that there is no place to run to to escape the evils of the world. The world will likely become a less hospitable place in the coming years on all dimensions--social, political and environmental. I am  not going to be able to move to a world I want to live in because it doesn't exist and never did. I am going to have to play a role in building the world in which I want to live in, wherever I find myself. And, this realisation has been sobering for me but also liberating. There is very little certainty in my life right now but the one thing that I am certain about is activism will be a part of my future. 

Sparsely Attended Protests

 I was in two minds to go to a Palestine protest at the uni this morning.  Last Friday, I had walked past another protest without stopping because there were just a handful of students, and I didn't want to be the only staff member there. Why academics have been so hesitant to take a stand on Gaza is a post for another day. Protesting at one's workplace feels very awkward, especially if you are one of the few people protesting. But, I'm glad I did today, even though there were just ten of us. As we were standing there, we got quite a few supportive honks and fist raises from drivers. A guy in a fancy electric vehicle rolled down his word to hysterically stream "You are terrorists" to us, more proof that genocide apologists are becoming desperate. And, after a few minutes, I saw my head of school pass by, wheeling a large stroller. On another day, I might have averted my gaze, pretending not to notice here. But, today, I met her gaze and smiled. She smiled back and walked past, before turning around and retracing her steps to ask me what I was protesting about. She stood and chatted with us for more than five minutes, and she was distressed enough about the situation that tears rolled down her face. She is a mainstream economist to the hilt, and has all the social skills of an economist, which is almost none. She does nothing to hide her disdain for those of us who are employed on the teaching pathway in her department, and not on the research pathway, like her. As she left, she wished us all the best. This was a passing encounter and I have no reason to believe that she will use her position or privilege to push the uni on Gaza. But, her supportive demeanor warmed my heart, and made me feel optimistic that the current genocide is rousing the consciences of people far beyond the protest circuit.  It made me feel glad that I decided to go for the protest. Protesting can often feel performative or pointless or both but it does provide some soul-warming moments too. 

Interview Debrief

 Neither was the interview a disaster, nor did I smash it. There were questions that I had not prepared for, as there always are. With 20:20 hindsight, Maybe I should have prepared for them. Or, if I was more enthusiastic about the project, rather than the prospect of a big change, maybe I would have thought about those questions. Or, maybe I am just too mentally exhausted to feel enthusiastic about anything and the best that I can aim for is to fake enthusiasm. It could take as long as two weeks for them to get back to me, which I suppose is a good thing. I remember being wracked by anxiety while waiting for the outcome of a job interview last year, for a job that I was not very enthusiastic about. And a two-week wait means I must crack on with the other job applications. I will write a longer post about this but this process is as much about figuring out what I want as it it about who wants me. It is a process of exploration even if it doesn't feel one bit like it. I would like to believe that one eventually lands where one wants to, and they may not be aware that they want that particular thing until they land there. But, I suppose there is also an element of accepting where you have landed and making the best of it. 

Post-Doc Interview Tomrorow

 One benefit of this blog is it chronicles how I felt at a particular time in my life. And, that is important because my recollections of how I felt at that point in time might be different. Reading my past posts often makes me cringe, especially posts from the year that was a pit for me and so many other--2021. Most of my posts from that year were soaked in angst. But, the posts from that year are a reminder of how much my mental state has improved since, even if it might not feel that way with all that is happening in the world. I have an interview for a post-doc position in the US tomorrow so I decided to go back and read my posts from around the time when I interviewed for my current job. I remember being quite nervous before the interview, which was quite unlike me because I am a fairly confident interviewee. But, I had to read y past posts to be reminded of how much of a jumble of nerves I was. The 24 hours that I had spent as an anxious wreck because my teaching demo video had a minor error had evaporated from my memory. For a job that was not even close to being a dream job. Another nerve-wracking interview I successfully interviewed for my PhD position in 2016. That was at the peak of my post-dengue complications, and I remember being such a mess that I read out some of my answers from a Word file. Another advantage of doing interviews on Zoom. There is no account of that interview because it was in my pre-blogging days but I remember being a trembling mess. Tomorrow, I am interviewing for a position that is as close to a dream job that I can expect to find and I am feeling much more relaxed. Yes, some nerves will hit me between now and 4pm tomorrow, but I can't imagine it will be as bad as before the 2021 or the 2016 interviews. 

Black People in Gaza Protests

 I try not to judge people who don't come along on protests for Palestine or don[t even express support on social media. I didn't participate in the uni lecturer strikes, so I can hardly afford to be sanctimonious myself. But, some level of judgement on my part does creep in, and a conversation yesterday served as a useful check for that. At a public meeting for Palestine late last year, an elderly white lady next to me asked why more black people did not show up for Gaza. I was discomfitted by her remark, but did not respond because I didn't have the words to articulate my discomfort. Maybe because I had wondered myself why more black people don't show up at these protests. Yesterday, during a conversation with a colleague who is black, I realised why? I may not be white, but neither am I black or Muslim. I have not had any unsavoury encounters with the police. in the UK. White Brits are the most privileged, and hence, protected group in the UK, so the question should be why are more white people not showing up.