Olympics

I thought I would give the Olympics a miss this time around. During the last Olympics, I was down with dengue, and can't remember watching a single event. But, yesterday I took to watching recorded events on BBC iplayer and was hooked. It was the first day of track and field, which are the only events I watch. T&F is a display sheer of athleticism and can be appreciated without any prior knowledge of the rules, unlike sports. They are simply about who can run/jump/throw the fastest/highest/farthest. The finest specimens of or species competing against each other. I also like watching the bodies of the athletes and how athleticism can come in different types. The sprinters with their bulging thighs and glutes, the middle distance runners with their leaner frames and the long-distance runners with not an ounce of extra fat or muscle on their bodies. The shot-putters with their broad shoulders, the discus-throwers with their bulging chests (although to be honest, I admire the bodies of the track athletes more). I also participated in track and field events at school so I have a frame of reference to measure the achievements of the athletes. For instance, the highest I jumped was 1.5m, whereas the Olympic record stands at 2.45m. I couldn't throw a discus farther than 30m, whereas the Olympic record is close to 70m. And, I  don't think I could run 100m faster than 15 seconds, which means that if I raced the fastest man on earth, I would be at 60m when he crossed the finish line. To be sure, I was never more than an above-average athlete and India is not known for athletic prowess. But, my simple point is I do have a frame of reference. 

Pew Survey on Religious Attitudes in India

 I recently read the results of a Pew Survey of religious attitudes in India and the most surprising result was that most Indians said they were tolerant of other religions while also expressing a strong preference not to mingle with people from other religions, much less marry them. The preference for caste endogamy was also very strong. No surprises there, the only surprising bit was Indians see themselves as tolerant. I am quite skeptical of doing surveys on populations in the Global South with Western constructs such as race and religion. Hinduism is not a religion like the Abrahamic religions and I would describe Indians as more ritualistic than religious. Each caste or sub-caste worships their own goods, has its own distinct eating habits, etc. 

Short-Listed

 This noon, I got news that I have been short-listed for the SOAS post-doc position, with the online interview scheduled for next week. It was not very professionally done. The mail asked me to respond within two hours. A closer inspection revealed that the mail had been written at 9:00 am yesterday but for some reason had never reached me. This does nothing to dispel my feeling that they already have someone in mind for this position (and that someone is not me).

But, the timing could not have been better. I have hit a wall with my PhD and all my motivation has drained away so now I can continue to do nothing on my PhD without feeling guilty. It is the perfect excuse to keep away from my  PhD for a few more days. Of course, it is more than that. It is a great opportunity and the chance of a change of scene from Bristol. I will give it my all. I know I generally do well in interviews, but I am not going to become complacent. 

Conceptual Mire

Exactly three weeks ago, I wrote a post expressing hope that the conceptual fog that has enveloped my PhD will clear soon. That fog has started to feel like a mire which is pulling me deeper with every passing day. Not only is the end not in sight I feel like the end is moving farther away. For the past two months I have barely written anything, even though I haven't been idle. Most of my time has been spent on doodling images of swans, snails and tortoises as I think about my conceptual framework. I have never been so frustrated in my life as I have been over the past one month. I feel like the only purpose of me showing up every day is to reach my threshold of frustration for the day. Go back home, sleep, turn up the next day and repeat. I wonder how long I can go on like this. Something has to give, right? Either I have a breakthrough with my existing framework or I junk it and adopt a new framework. My supervisor told me she would support another extension, even blame it on her Covid attack. But, can I take more than three months of this purgatory is a big question. I feel like I am trying to knock a wall down by beating my head against it. Exhausting, damaging, and, of course, futile. 

Covid Fear

 The downside of living with smokers is they are prone to coughing fits which send paroxysms of Covid fear through your body. A few weeks ago, Betty had coughing fits which convinced me that she had Covid and would pass it on to me. She didn't. Then on Saturday, I noticed that my Irish housemate had a bad cold and cough, which again freaked me out. I toyed with the idea of saking him if he had tested himself for Covid and to request him to wear a mask in the common areas. Thankfully, I didn't, because his coughing fits became less frequent. But, I resolved to ask my kind and efficient landlady to send an email asking everyone to be vigilant about Covid infections, which she did today. Even if I catch Covid from one of my housemates, I can rest easy in the fact that I did my best not to get infected. And, today, I also learnt that my supervisor had had quite a bad attack of Covid despite being double-jabbed. She advised me not to go out anywhere, and I was too stunned by the news to point out that I barely have a social life in any case. o, Covid fear levels are likely to be high for the next few months at least. 

Times Columnists

If I had a personal column in a major newspaper without an area of expertise I would be riven with anxiety every week. I suppose there are people who have the wit, intelligence and writing chops to mine their personal lives for content or come up with an amusing but inoffensive take on something in the news, but such people are few and far between. Britain's media, which is possibly the most cliquey and incestuous in the world, has too many personal columnists with vey talent, who oscillate between banality, oversharing and being offensive in their columns. The Times and the Daily Telegraph have too many such columnists. This week I learnt that a Times columnist who I always thought of as a talentless toff is also mean-spirited and vindictive. Who would have thought? He sent a vile tweet about a recently dead female working-class journalist who had once said he had benefitted from nepotism. But, I don't want to talk about him. Having a personal column of this sort must be a very toxifying experience. To carry on with a personal column in the absence of talent or expertise you have to start believing your own brand. You have to start thinking of yourself as a brand and keep marketing yourself as one. Its one thing to do it with a product, but completely another to do it when you yourself are the product. Personal columnists were influencers before social-media influencers became a thing. And,  I feel they are more dangerous because the have an air of intellect and respectability that social media influencers don't. 

A Nice Break and Back to the Grind

 After finishing my SOAS application yesterday, I felt a strange ache in my temples which I had never experienced before. It wasn't a splitting ache, but I have enough experience of anxiety symptoms to realize it had been caused by stress. My half-hearted hopes of resuming my PhD work went straight out the window. Instead, I made plans with a close friend to meet today. We had a very pleasant time chatting over beers and food. During the day, I barely thought of my PhD, but on the few occasions I did my mind would cloud over. I have barely written anything over the past two months. All my time has been spent in hammering my theoretical framework into shape and I am still not there yet. After that comes the actual writing to turn that theoretical framework into text. I still have a long way to go with not much time or energy left. but it is what it is. All I can do is show up and do my best.