Hypernormalization

 There is a word for what many people, including me, are doubtlessly feeling--that the world is crumbling before our eyes, but most people seem to be coping quite well. It’s called hypernormalization, which refers to people going about their daily lives in the midst of enormous social upheaval because of their perceived lack of power to respond to the upheaval and their inability to imagine a different world. I have written before about the struggle to find one’s place and purpose in a tumultuous world. The inability to answer the question: what does it mean to have a successful and purposeful life today? And, that post was written before Oct. 7, which has permanently changed many of us in ways that we don’t fully fathom yet. I don’t have any solutions, but I do know that pretending everything is normal is not worse than being paralyzed by despair. Or at least paralyzed for long, and seeing despair as an ethical response to the upheaval. In the past few days, I have been watching a video that perfectly captures both the pain and injustice of today’s world and the hope we need. It starts with a white American woman and an adorable curly-haired brown little girl. The video starts with both of them pretending to be sleeping bunnies. They then wake up around and start dancing, which is when we see both the girl’s legs are prosthetics--she is a double amputee from Gaza, but you would never know it just by looking at her cheerful angelic face. If a child double amputee whose father and siblings are still trapped in Gaza can laugh and small, the case for despair feels much weaker.

Words Once Said

 I had an interaction recently where I responded to some mildly inconsiderate behavior with a calculatedly cruel message. Before responding, I knew I should have probably slept on it, and I knew I would regret if I didn't, but I sent it anyway. The person immediately responded with contrition as my message accused them of being callous, but then blocked me after a few hours. I didn't realize what I had done until at least two days later and I was shocked by how I calculating I was in crafting the message to cause maximum damage even though I was in a state of agitation. Of course, it was too late to say sorry since I had no way to contact the person. Words once said can sometimes not been taken back and words can burn bridges. I briefly considered looking the person up online and contacting them to say sorry, but a friend rightly pointed out that 1) it would seem stalkerish since it was someone I had met on a dating app 2) they were probably over it since we had not known each other for long at all and 3) the only purpose of the apology would be to assuage my guilt. And, sometimes you just have suck it up and live with the guilt rather than the burden the aggrieved person with your need for redemption. But, it was a useful reminder that nice people can always behave in horrible ways. I have written before about how some people, usually men, from South Asia find it difficult to say sorry. But, it is also the case that some people behave recklessly because they can say sorry easily if they mess up. Not saying sorry or saying so sorry too easily are both problematic. 

Love on the Spectrum

 I have been watching a dating show recommended by a friend called Love On the Spectrum, and there is so to learn from it. In the first season, the conversations between the paticipants, all of whom are on the autism spectrum felt very stilted. I doubted any of them would end up together. But, most of the did, which got be thinking about a book that I am reading which talks about unconscious communication. One of the quotes I love is “we leak truths from our bodies all the time”. People like me place a lot of emphasis on good conversation. But, then we are often left wondering why we don’t feel drawn to some people we have good conversations with. People make you feel a certain way in their presence through their words but also their bodies. Often, we try to pin down the reason for the discomfort or bad vibes that we feel in our bodies from the presence of some people. Rationalizing a feeling is a fool’s errand, but it is difficult not to do.

And, its difficult not to love the participants of the show, even the men. The men are free of artifice and masculine conditioning and speak of their loneliness and insecurities in heartbreakingly frank ways.

Indo-Pak Conflict

To describe the Indo-Pak conflict as being clouded by a "fog of war" would be a gross understatement. It feels like two entirely differnt conflcits are unfloding on the screens of Indian and Pakistani TV viewers. There is false reporting and there is fantasy reporting. Indian media covered itself in infamy by reportng the capture of a Pakistani fighter pilot, the destruction of Karachi port and the capture of a majot Paksitani city. All products of journalists' imagination so unhinged that woudl make even Israel's media blush.The thing is when you can trust news, an event becomes less real. Your mind imagines the reality to be ten tmies better or worse than its media depiction depending on your mood. In the university where I did my master's, there was a group of professors who were hard constructionists. Soft constructionists believe that reality is not independent of the language used to desribe it. The language co-constructs reality. Hard constructivists believe there is no objective external reality independent of the language used to describe it. This group was often the butt of our jokes. Now i think the joke's on us. 

Reading, Thinking and Writing

Close friends are those you can think aloud with. But, I don't have the energy to mediate on the nature of close friendships at the moment, so I am going to leave it at that. Yesterday, I was thinking aloud with a close friend, who is familiar with my writer’s block and super-extended struggles with motivation. I now have experience of academia in the US and UK. Far more knowledgeable people than me have written about how they are shitshows which are getting shittier year. There is nothing more I can add to that discussion, aside from corroboration with my personal experience. However, there are few professions that pay you to read, think and write. However, corrupted and contorted the original mission of academia is, it is still does offer opportunities to do that. Or at least, I can say my current circumstances give me that opportunity in ample measure. I have eloquently described my writer’s block to all those willing to listen, and frankly, those descriptions have started to feel forced and staid. It is time to try to write my way out of my writer’s block.

Reading This blog

I was going to title this post 'Meta Blog', thinking that I hadn't used this title before, but that's not the case. I haven’t written a blog post about blogging in ages, so maybe I forgot. This blog is more than seven years old, and the first few years were prolific, before I realised how personal diarish the blog had become. I took a step back in 2022, returned to blogging more regularly, picked up the pace again in 2023 before slowing down again. Now, I don’t blog more than once a week. I have written before how my output in the first wo years was so heavy because I was pouring out the accumulated wisdom of my life up to that time. After that catch-up phase, wisdom is accumulating more slowly, so there is less urgency to dispense it. So, I have decided to read my blog more even if I don’t post more often. It is amazing how mental states feel unique even though they are cyclical in nature. Chance are you have felt the way you feel before, the problem you are wrestling with you have grappled before,  and you possibly wrote a blog post to help you solve, alleviate or cope with it. Far be it from me to claim that this blog is a fount of wisdom. But, I have cumulatively put a lot of though in it, and there is so solace to be gained from reading old posts, even its only for myself. So, I have decided to read old posts more, instead of doom-scrolling in the evenings. 

Clouds Parting

A couple of weeks ago, the US had started to seem like a basket case. Those of us without strong ties to the US had started to think about how long we could continue living like this. It wouldn't be the end of the world if I had to return to India without a job or clear career prospects, right? But, over the past few days, I have started to feel more optimistic. Signs that the fascist juggernaut has started to sputter are there if one is prepared to countenance the possibility. Students who were expected to meekly accept their visa revocations are starting to fight back in the courts and talking to the media. Harvard, not an instution known for rocking the boat, refused to bend the President's demands. And, who would have ever thought Republican senators from Bible belt states would get heckled in town halls for doing nothing to stop the reverse the deportation of a Latino men. So, maybe it is these signs of the growing backlash to fascism, maybe I am adjusting to the new reality of a precarious immigration status, maybe I am recoginzing that one cannot remain suspended in a state of despair for an indefinite lenght of time and one must get on with one's life. But, my angst levels have definitely reduced over the past few days. But, as many people have said, hope is a muscle that helps bring new realities into being.