Our Debts

There are monetary debts, and there are tangible debts such as when someone owes someone else a favour. Both these are easy to identify. But then there are emotional debts which are not easy to identify. Maybe it is wrong to refer to them as debts because the term is transactional. But I use it for lack of a better term and also because some of us do keep a mental tally of these things.

I recently helped someone out, and although I would never remind them of it or call in my debt, it was recorded in my mental balance sheet. I then realized that that person had come into my life immediately after a traumatic incident in my life. That person was a companion to me during a difficult period and it is only later that I realized what a difference their presence made during that difficult time. They did not counsel me about my loss and I barely spoke about it to them. But just their presence was a great source of comfort, as I later realized. And that realization changed my perspective on our debt relationship. I was the one who is in their debt, not they.

Ajoba

Today is the sixth death anniversary of my grandfather. He would have been 94. I called up my grandmother and she was recollecting how he had passed away just minutes before I reached their home in Pune to see him. I was his only grandchild who was in the country during his illness and death.
My grandfather had a legendary sense of humour and would deliver the smartest and sharpest quips with a twinkle in his eye. My mother, uncle and I take after him in that respect, although none of us can claim to be as funny as him. He was a scientist and would find the most efficient way of doing even the most mundane of tasks. And, once he had found it, we had to do the task in that exact manner, which was sometimes infuriating. His love for food outlasted his digestive capacities, and often lead to stomach upsets in his final years.
He was a sickly child born of a mother on the cusp of middle age, so he wasn't tall and strapping. But he had an adventurous streak. I remember his stories of cycling around post-war Europe and of bad English breath and London under rationing. A decade later, he would transplant his young family to the U.S., long before it was fashionable for Indians to make that journey. My grandmother stories of those days paint a picture of a confident America which welcomed people from strange places. An America which was fascinated by my grandmother's colorful sarees. Anyway that is a blog for another day.

Teaching

Today, one of my students said I would make a great lecturer after I told her I was doing a PhD and looking at a career in academia. She added that I was really good at explaining complex concepts in a simple way. Another student chimed in, saying he liked that I was neutral and didn't try to impose my point of view on students. Both comments made my day.
To be honest, I have always known that I am good at explaining stuff but praise from students is always welcome. But, more importantly, I can see a marked difference in my attitude towards students between my first teaching semester (which was before the Troubles) and now. I feel a kindness and generosity towards students that I never knew I had. And, I am not the kind of person who is great at bantering with students, or anyone for that matter unless we hit it off instantly or if tis a close friend. But kindness flows in many ways--through words, actions, facial expressions. I guess I act kindly because I feel kindly towards my students, so its not much of an effort.
As for the boy's comment, I am not in the business of proselytizing. I have no desire  to convert anyone to my point of view. Sometimes I hear opinions that are quite bizarre, even ridiculous. But I never react strongly. No one likes being talked down to, everyone yearns to be respected. The best I can aim to do is to allow my students to think critically. I have learned this my from my PhD supervisor and hope to pass it on.

Prizes and Praises

I can't remember the last time I won a prize. The only one that comes to mind is for a project in journo school and not a well-deserved one at that. That was way back in 2008. More recently, there was a prize that I was hoping to win, but didn't. I didn't take that too well and was consumed with envy for someone I knew who won it. In my defense, that was around the time the demons in my head had started their devilish dance. Before the prize was announced a friend noticed that I was trembling slightly, and pointed it out to me. After the prize announcement, I spent the rest of the evening sulking, even though it was supposed to be a day of celebration.
Last week, I again didn't win a prize that I fancied my chances for, but this time I took it much better. It helped that even though I didn't win the prize, I received fulsome praise. The cynic in me would say prizes are all that matter, praises are merely platitudes. If my  work was so praiseworthy, it  should have been prizeworthy. But, I don't think so any more. It helps that I have a lot going on in my professional life, so I can't afford to mope over a prize. But, I also like to think I have matured. My first reaction to not winning the prize last week was bitterness. I felt my work was better than the prize-winning work. But, that soon blew over and I was able to chat amiably with the prize winner. Someone has to win the prize. And this might sound sanctimonious, but, at least in this case, the journey counted for more than the destination. Writing that piece has been a really fulfilling experience for me, and that counts for more than the prestige of winning the prize. Of course, that is  not to say that I wouldn't have been thrilled had I won the  prize. 

Running for Trains

Two days and two heart-stopping dashes to catch trains. Made it by  the skin of the teeth on both occasions but felt shaken afterwards, instead of relief. If I had missed the trains the next trains were just an hour later but I would have had to pay out of my own pocket (this was for a conference with funded travel). It would have been about 100 pounds for each ride, I suspect. Even so, someone less frugal than me wouldn’t have bothered so much about the expense, attributing it to accident. He would have moved on from the incident rather quickly. Someone as frugal as me would have made sure he was there in time. I guess I have to pick a side. Someday I will write a post on frugality. Today all I will say is that I hate unnecessary expense and I hate waste. I spent almost an hour last night trying to put back a zipper that had come off my jacket. It is a perfectly fine jacket except for the zipper, but useless in cold weather without it. Someone else would possibly have binned it. I guess one needs to embrace frugality or become less frugal. There is no point in agonizing over it. And there is no point in agonizing over the fact that one is agonizing over it.

Stillness

Its always a dilemma which yoga video to choose on my rest days. So, I have started using a new method to select videos. I try to sum up my mood in a single word and then I select the video whose title comes closest to that word. The word could also so be something I feel like I need at the moment. And, often enough there is an exact match. For instance, today I felt the need to be still as I am going through a stressful phase at work. And, sure enough, there was a video titled 'Stillness Practice'. 

Its not like the whole practice revolves around the title theme. A cynic would argue it is the same broad set of exercises that appear in different videos under different titles. But a) the videos are free, so what are you complaining about? b) Yoga is not a pill you pop when you are feeling ill or blue (not that I have anything against pills. If they work for you, more power to  you). Yoga works best with your active participation and, more importantly, openness. You gain from it as much as you can, and with time you earn to gain more. So, I approach the practice of the day conscious of its theme but with an open mind and body. The point is not to think too hard about the theme but to see what happens as the practice unfolds. Some days the practice brings calmness and serenity, on others it doesn't. 

Humanizing Success

Another fascinating article from a writer who wrote the article that this post was based on. This one was about how obnoxious behaviour by brilliant men is tolerated, even feted. It is seen as adding to their charm and uniqueness. Just yesterday, I was chatting to a friend about how I am not a big  fan of Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock Holmes because they were enough brilliant entitled male pricks in the world as it is. Not that Sherock Holmes, or Benedict Cumberbatch have sexually assaulted anyone, to my knowledge, but the point remains. Quirks and foibles that would never be tolerated in a woman of equal brains or talent are feted in men.
The writer went further. She wrote about the need to "humanize" success. I quote:

The point is not to put women on those patriarchy-shaped pedestals instead of men, but to expand the meaning of success beyond the unimaginative monoculture of numbers, money, size, etc, and include human aspects of life into the conversation... A heterogeneous celebration of achievement of different scales; determining relevance by philosophical and poetic values; celebrating how life is lived with self and others: we should say hats off to all these.

I believe for feminism to be truly emancipatory, it must liberate men as well as women. It is not simply a matter offering badly behaved brilliant women the same latitude as men, but changing social norms to make such behaviour unacceptable by either sex. Will we lose some brilliant minds to public censure? Maybe. Or our eyes may open to new forms of brilliance.