Showing posts with label personal life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal life. Show all posts

A Whirlpool of Dust


It has been a while since I blogged here. Not because I had nothing to write about, it’s just that I’ve been…I’ve been…a bit distracted, yes distracted, if I must choose a word to describe my past situation. A situation that appears rather queer to me in retrospect – even now, I can see myself, my own image, in the past month, struggling and running after things that once mattered so little.

And now when I come back to this blog, my altar of art, it feels like I’m opening the rickety door to an old forgotten home, where the smell of stagnancy and growth of cobwebs is abundant and unrestricted. But how rotten it may look, a home is always a home, a nice place to fall back to, a step back to normalcy. Where one can relax on a armchair placed against the fireplace, and wonder how did one allow the dust to gather, remembering things that once were, that have been, and those that have evolved.

It’s not a long time ago when I was in my bachelors degree program, and I remember precisely how I used to not care about superfluous things like academics and grades and so on. In that phase of my life, it used to be a moment of great satisfaction, no, a great joy, to be honest, when I used to pass a course. Passing a course, fulfilling the minimum requirements in any given subject was on my agenda, and of course, I had higher ambitions on other things, things that had nothing to do with studies. And now? My standards have evolved tremendously. I get fits of heart attacks, on scoring a grade that is second to the best. Getting the best grade is often the priority now. Perhaps things haven’t really evolved as they appear to be. They have been always the same. It’s just the priorities that have undergone major reorganization. Now, at this age, all I want from my life is that I would like to be a scientist.

Ah, this maddening lust for excellency, this, this unsustainable desire for perfection, would really destroy me one day. And what shall become of the artist that smolders within this hollow core of science? That, I don’t know. Only if someone could cure me from this horrible disease of inspiration. And only then, there shall not be any cobwebs.

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Current Book: "For whom the bell tolls" by Ernest Hemingway
Current Music: "Chak de India" title song

Scenes From Europe


Disclaimer: The scenic rendering and subsequent comparisons between various cultures and continents are the result of author's limited experience and biased perspective. Peruse Wikipedia if you like to read facts. 

# 1 I recently attended a conference in the new country (which I intend to keep anonymous - as long as I can) in Europe where I've started my PhD. I can say that here food and wine are more exquisite, and especially the food has actually salt in it as compared to the bland American food to which I had grown so accustomed lately, and as for the wine, there were hundreds (yes literally 100's) of wine glasses set bordering on the circumference of long tables, shimmering together under candle light - but of course no matter how lucrative, they were equally useless to my sober tongue. 

# 2 After owning and driving my own car in the United States for two years, which was a huge shift already for a person who rode a rickety bicycle in India, I'm finding it a bit inferior to step down again to the lowly level of a bicycle-riding-person. But the biking culture in this place is slightly amazing if not overwhelming, and it's almost beginning to affect both my sense and perspective. It's helping me stay slender, giving me that daily exercise which I used to often plan in my schedule but never actually accomplish it, and saving me some money on gasoline. And yes of course, when even professors are driving these bikes, I don't feel so bad (besides it gives one a false sense of pride and importance that one's not screwing up the environment and stuff)

# 3 Well, I really want to keep this blog clean and shouldn't really say this, but perhaps I can't stop myself already. The guys are sort of cute in this area of the world. And quite different from the mixture that you get in America. No cases of obesity so far have crossed my vigilant eye. But of course, some of the male population with overly hot features and lean body structures, tends to remind one of gay people.  I mean, happy people. And the ladies are a bit too fashionable, being typical with their angular features housed in leather jackets and huge sunglasses, which often helps in kicking up my inferiority complex whenever the superiority one is on rage.

# 4 The foreign, undecipherable language is the biggest challenge for living in Europe. At times, its interesting to explore all those little shops and restaurants with mysterious names, for mind is a curious organ indeed. But at times, it becomes a frustration, when one can't read any notice on the department's wall, or one can't figure out the nutritional/expiration traits of a food product, or one feels left out from a spicy conversation around the corner. 

And as for my PhD project, I am still not sure, what I've gotten myself into, for this field and area is supposedly new and intricate for me. And it's a nasty project, with different PhD students from collaborating universities handling different sections of the main work. Then, on top of that, they tell me, soon after I've started, that I'm handed the most difficult part of the project and if I can solve it in 3 years, only then there's some hope. And it's a fool's hope, they say, because they themselves know that it can't be done. So I feel like this little hobbit, who has been asked to destroy the ring - and instructions for the job are written in elvish.


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Current Book: "The Portrait of a Lady" by Henry James (Why Sir James, I LOVE YOU, is your ghost still around by any chance?) 
Current Music: "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park (mindblowing stuff, as usual)
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Trivialities of Life

1 week ago...

The little things. It's always them. Them, little things.

Nourishing by the mother, support by the father, care by the sibling, and love by the lover (?) - summarizes the littlest things in my life and which very rarely makes me pause, and wonder why I'm running the way I am, and why ain't I taking life slow the way everyone else is. The recent 1 month spent in India has been full of such little things, things which are almost impossible to find anywhere else. The relaxed atmosphere of spending every day doing nothing, really nothing, watching time pass-by by idling on the endless list of TV channels, lying on the cushioned sofa with feet pointing towards the cooler, savoring the makhan on fifth and sometimes sixth aloo paratha, going to bed without an alarm clock on the side, and the mobile switched off and thrown in some forgotten corner of the house, waking up late and finding food set on the dining table, seeing others doing chores and not participating at all in anything that's going around, and lying sprawled on a floor mat in pyjamas on a hot afternoon reading that long lost book that you always wanted to read in the summer...

But well, now I must say goodbye to all this, and resume the hard path that I've chosen. The self-afflicted horror of pursuing a PhD in science awaits me and I must part with all that is little, and seek all that seems so grand, at least for now. And everyone has illusions, perhaps this is mine. After all, what is life without a sweet, impossible illusion?


Today...

It's been a week that I've been in this strange land in Europe. There is no time for little things, only a soft remembrance lurks in my vision that once such things were.

Research has gripped me early on, but what's more impacting is the strong culture shock that I'm now going through. This shock is stronger and deeper than the one I felt in United States two years ago, and it is full of events that leave me sometimes in exultation over my choices in life and sometimes in this powerful kind of agony that is hard to tame. . . (to be continued)

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Current Book: "The story and its writer" edited by Ann Charters
Current Music: "Somebody that I used to know" by Gotye
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On returning to India



It doesn't happen very often that you find an email sitting in your inbox from a complete stranger in which that person is requesting you to update your blog, and asking you to talk about how does it feel to be back in India, while simultaneously he's expressing his adoration for your writing. A rare email of this sorts is then starred, and my inner lazy writer wakes up at 7am in the morning to write.

How does it feel to be back home, after much struggle and adventure in the US? There is no single word or sentence to describe that feeling. It's different here, definitely, much different. Perhaps not different than it was 2 years ago, but to me, it's again a whole brave new world.

As I sit in the open verandah on the second floor of our house, I can smell the fresh morning dipped in a hue of smoke. I can hear the sound of distant horns, blaring in perfect chaos, dampened by the chirping and twittering of many odd little beings that I have not seen or heard since long. Life seems to be slowed down here, yet the traffic on the road is ever-accelerating on twisting, narrow, unknown katcha-pucca roads. I am no more able to cross the roads or sit behind the car driver with ease. People stare at you here for no reason, and their faces look so tense or sometimes so serious, but perhaps this is so because their expressions are genuine and they are not trained to wear plastic white smileys as several are in the US. I could notice by the glare in their eyes, while I was showering a "thank you" to everyone who interacted with me, that there were many people who have not been thanked yet for their silent, lowly jobs.

Everything, everyone seems to moving, rushing past each other, heading for sliding into those closing doors before anyone else, and yet there is this strange stillness in this country. A stillness of a relaxed, and unorganized bachelor's room, where things lie as and where they can, without much care or order. This emptiness has ridden my personal daily scheduler of ink, so I don't have anything to do in the next few hours, or tonight or tomorrow, or the next two weeks, as per the blank entries next to the columns of days and time slots.

But no matter how difficult it maybe for adjusting to everything that was once my own, and perhaps still is, nothing, no developed nation in the entire world, can offer or defeat the savory, sweet-warm taste of gujiya on my early morning dry tongue.
  
Gujiya, my favorite Indian sweet. 


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Current Book: "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen Hawking
Current Music: "Jaage Hain Der Tak" by A.R. Rehman in movie "Guru"
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Swimming is too hard for me

Swimming is impossible for me. I just can't swim. I don't know why.


Swimming is one of those "staying healthy" evil schemes that I adopted this summer along with gym, yoga and other fitness classes. This is the only time that I can even think of such things, as once classes start in the Fall semester, I won't have any time. That's a good thing about studying in US, you get summer holidays. 4 months of summer vacation. But ofcourse smarter people work and earn money during this time. I'm just a fool horsing around.

Anyway, so yeah, I just can't swim. I have tried a few times, my friend who's teaching me, says it will take about 30-40 trials. But that's sad. I was hoping to learn it within 4-5 trials, assuming that I am a super genius and all. Turns out am not. Well, that's not a surprise. Happens with me a lot.

And I hate those shitty little kids swarming in the pool. They are swimming around so perfectly. Like naked little demons with wiggly sharp tails. They make me drown myself with shame - in the shallowest section of the pool. And there are about millions of them in that bloody pool. That's the worst part.

My back, oh Christ, my back, hurts. I have begun to believe now that due to the sins of past (Thanks Mr. Computer) my back has been irreparably damaged, and now it can't arch up the way it's required to in order to be able to be swim. And whenever I try to to be afloat and raise my legs to the water level, the spine yells like it's being tortured by a Chinese (Well, I love them though) and subsequently forces my old body to drown. Breathing under water isn't no chicks game either. Nevertheless, I kept trying.

I wasn't sure till today if any improvement had occurred. But you know what? Today I swam two laps, yeah two complete laps. So you see? You basically need determination, hard work, focus and all that similar kind of crap to be successful in life and of course you need to be a super-awesome genius, about which we both exactly know that how much we're kidding ourselves when it comes to such matters and illusions of grandeur.

(No, am kidding of course. I did swim but with a bunch of air bloated rubber props keeping me afloat. Which, is lame. I still can't do shit in water.)

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Current Book: "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley
Current Music: "I will find you" from The Last of the Mohicans.


General Notes

So when I have really nothing to say, and for the sake of weekly blogging and for the sake of those 2-3 people who actually care about this blog, I have some general notes for this week.

1. Summer's are going hot and nice. Especially that almost everyone is wearing very little or no clothes. Except me, of course.

2. I am finally understanding Sir Mark Twain's language after finishing 2/3 of the current book.

3. It's strange to know that an year has passed in US and still almost nothing has been accomplished. The world, as of now, still remains unconquered and out of our reach.

4. I'm falling in love every other week. But of course the one person I really love is being constantly loved and remembered by us.

5. Don't know what to put under number 5.

6. Fast Five is one of the biggest no-brainers I have watched in a while. Felt like committing suicide on every other scene. But it was very funny. No doubt about that. Brawny and pea brain men always amuse me :) (Should have put this in #5)

7. I realized I made more resolutions in summer than at new year. Still struggling to keep 'em up.

8. Writing is as bad as ever. Some other project is taking our time indefinitely. Probably will hook up with friends and write some shit later this week.

Oh wait, need to make friends first.


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Current Book: "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" By Mark Twain
Current Music: "Danza Kuduro" by Don Omar.

Zero Productivity

"What's your progress?" asked my professor with regard to the summer research that I'm supposed to conduct in return of the money I get paid.


I pondered for a moment as I tried to formulate an answer. Immediately, my mind drifted and I began wondering about the progress in other aspects of my life. It occurred to me, one by one, that I was failing everywhere.

Clearly, I hadn't written a single word since February (ofcourse I don't consider these blogs and other shit as serious writing), so that way my writing career wasn't going any further. On reading, I did read a 'few good books' since the new year began. But the problem was the count was "few". I averaged reading 1 book in a month, while it should actually be a book in a week. I wished I read more.

Health was another dimension in which I had planned to improve but all that happened in this field was "planning", nothing else. Personal life, friendships, romances were as usual on a decline so I didn't complain about productivity there.

The click of my professor's pen brought my senses back to the present situation while the question still hung loosely between the two of us. What was my progress?

I had no answer.

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Current Book: "Wuthering Heights" By Emily Bronte
Current Music: "Mr. Saxobeat" by Alexandra Stan.

Vegetarian Woes

Note: It's interesting to observe how my writing style is constantly influenced by the authors I read. From Salinger to Steinbeck. Btw, Grapes of Wrath totally ripped me. Totally.

Now the real post, the thing I was going to talk about:


The huge dinner table is set. The party is on. Knives are flashing, forks are digging, tongues are rolling. There is barbecue. Here's pork. And some beef. Is that a rib? Is that a leg? But what animal is that made of, she asks. It doesn't matter, they say. Just eat it. It's good. No? You don't want it? Try something. Here, try a chicken breast. It's soft. If not, get some turkey. Here, c'mon take it. Put some pepper. Why? It's hard to cut? Use a knife. Cut it, tear it, pull it apart, swallow it down.

I can't, she says. Why? It's barbecue! Have fun! Don' be shy. See, the chicken wings are juicy. And red. Red with blood or topping sauce, she asks. Don' know, they say and bite at it. They forget her after a while. She sits there, and looks about the table with hungry yet restricted eyes.

Jokes are made, memories are shared, bonds are made, but the lamb is torn. Torn with delicacy. Torn with knives, forks, bony hands and neat napkins. The mirth and slaughter goes by and by.

Finally, she slides her wrist across the table, the fingers seem to steal a bread piece that came as a side dish. All the side dishes are sitting untouched on the table. She gathers them. She applies a layer of green salad and butter to make a two bread piece sandwich. And without any knives, forks or napkins, she grapples with the sandwich and takes a bite.

And now the others stare at her, in wonder.

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Current Book: "1984" By George Orwell
Current Music: "Mitwa" from Lagaan

Stages of Love

Stage I: Doubting

The first stage is that of uncertainty. You spend most of the time wondering if the other person feels the same way as you do. You run all kinds of tests on your target to evaluate the response factor of love.

And perhaps you do get some feedback. If you don't, you falsely assume it. You at least let your friends believe that you got response from other party. And then you like to stay mesmerized in that hopefulness. You live in hope. Like the rest of the humanity. Only to discover later when the other party realizes that you're coming too close and slaps reality right into your face.

Most love stories end here.

Stage II: Loving
This is the middle stage on journey of love. You spend most of the time exploring other party's ideas, hobbies, body parts, what not. Because you got lucky, and your doubt has been transformed into truth, and there's mutual agreement between two parties. There could be some factor of compromise involved as well.
This stage lasts for a very short period of time, again the magnitude of time is a complex function of culture. But no matter how short this stage may be, this indeed is what people like to call "being in love". That is when their hormones are in resonance.

Blessed are those love stories that make the most out of it.

Stage III: Knowing
It is the last and rarest phase. Not a lot of people make it, unless forced to via arranged marriages. After phase II, it's hard for the mates of any species to stick together. There is hardly any motivation. There is nothing new or fresh in the relationship.

This is the true test of the so-called "love". It's when you really get to "know" a person. You know that you prolly aren't that crazy about that person the way you were when you're in stage II. Things are kindof dormant.
But there's something else in this stage, something much stronger. After making it so far, after all those years down the road, after all this history with the other party, you know that your heart aches to be away from that person. You just can't live without that person. It's like a disease which has no cure. You have now developed a addictive liking towards a person. There is this passive realization.

There is this knowing.
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So, which stage are you at?

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Current Book: "The Grapes of Wrath" By John Steinback [zzzzzz]
Current Music: "Take a Look Around" - Limp Bizkit

On Cooking

Its makes my roomateses jaws dropses.  
So when it comes to cooking (or microwaving for that matter) my basic requirements are that the food should be quick, easy and delicious.

I am not too hot about the nutritional content shit. Although I do try to employ some cheap tricks to get all those goddamn nutritions packed in one tight morsel. In short, I abuse turmeric powder.

Anyway, my cooking strategy involves a net 2 hours of cooking once a week on Sundays which basically prepares forthcoming 14 meals for the next 7 days. Dinner and lunch of every single day. For breakfast, I try to gallop cornflakes and all. Heard they give you some nutritional shit. I don't believe that crap.

I like to munch them though. It's while munching cornflakes that I have got the most brilliant artistic/scientific ideas of my life. I don't know what's in them.

And I know there are people out there who spend about 2 hrs of cooking daily. Goddamn daily. One of them is my mother. The rest of them, well, you can figure it out. I can't afford that. I just can't. I just don't like it.

1 mouth, 2 containers, 4 dishes.
'Cooking food' is like 'washing dishes'. You don't wanna do it. That's all. If, while doing any of these two tasks, you ask yourself, "Why am I doing this? Was I born for this?" I suggest you, my friend, stop doing that, at that very moment. You can spend your life doing better things.

Abuse disposable plastic ware. Screw the environment etc. Have a life.

Anyway, I can keep on giving tips on making your life efficient till the point you quit this silly blog's window and go back to your facebook/youtube, so I'll stop.



Tip: Mix at higher temperature, null out the Enthalpy effect and reduce your Gibb's free energy of mixing so that final mix follows the arrow of time ultimately increasing the total entropy of the system. 


But of course no matter you do, even if you just give 2hrs of cooking every week or even become more efficient than that, you just can't beat the Chinese. You just bloody can't. 

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Current Book: "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" by James Joyce
Current Music: "Witchcraft" by Pendulum




HNY HNY

HNY HNY.

So on the last day of December, I thought I will act smart and do something different. Following the lines of the old belief that "Whatever you do on the first day of the year, you are likely to repeat that the rest of the year.", I chalked out a shitty idea.

I planned to go straight to bed at 10:00 P.M. that night. No stupid sitting till midnight for the new year and all. And then wake on the first day of the year at 7:00 A.M. and STUDY. Or WRITE. Basically try to initiate the new year by pursuing something noble like Science OR Art. 

But then, I soon realized, "Who I am kidding?" I know who I am. LoL. Sleeping early on New Year's Eve and waking the next day (or any day for that matter) at 7? 

MY ASS. 

So basically I did nothing shitty of this kind and spent this transition pretty normally. 2010 was a great year for me, in fact pivotal in my life, career, etc, etc. I won't bore you with that shit, you know pretty much what happened in 2010 if you wasted your time reading here, so I'll skip that. 

And here's a list of things I actually DID on the first day of January (I don't know if it's a good thing if I will be repeating them throughout the year. You judge.)

- Watched TV at night and learnt how people are crazy at NY Times Square on New Year. Backstreet Boys and Avril looked kinda hot though. 

- Licked Ice Cream after 6 months? lol. 

- Slept for 10 hours. 

- Did NOT go to Office/Lab (Hell yeah, bitch).

- Learned how to drive and scared other nice people on the road and backseat as well. 

- Attended an online video conference (O RLY? About WHAT?) with Darling (to be wife?)

- TRIED to read an English Grammar book and failed. 

- Ate an Octopus in lunch. 

Happy New Year, Honey. (HNY HNY)

P.S: RESOLUTIONS ---> 
1. Get Laid. 
(Resolutions never really come to life, so THAT's OKAY)

How did ya spend yours, dear invisible reader? Any resolutions you might like to share?

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Current Book: "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger
Current Music: "Desert Rain" by Edward Maya

Take a break, dude.

Me chilling out.
"Stop. Wherever you are. Just stop. Stop running for a moment, will you? 


Catch up your breath. Let your throat welcome the soothing air back to its calm motion. Let your lungs capture the breeze which could have choked them if you hadn't stopped. 


What are you running for? What are you running after? What are you running from? I know there are good things that you want, that you're running for/after and there are bad things that you are running from. But this is a marathon, remember? Its not a sprint. You will wear out if you continue like this. Calm down, stop. 


Take a break, dude."

This wasn't me speaking really. This is the voice I heard in my head when I found out that there is no bus service on Thanksgiving Day. Spending my one week break of thanksgiving holidays at my office had lulled this inner voice until now. So Thursday became the first weekday in the past few months that I skipped college. Skipped work. Skipped email.

Skipped everything that was important.

I did act a bit fidgety about all this complete holiday and shut off thing but then I realized that the inner voice was right. I really needed a break. I had to stop running. After all who am I? Who are we? No matter how big an achievement we make, we are still at nanoscale when compared to the world. We are those tiny particles oscillating about our own axis trying indefinitely to fight the inevitable thermodynamic equilibrium this system will attain one day. And don't even get me started what role we tiny specks of carbon have on the giant universe. And the multiverse?

Meh, I digress. Had a good thanksgiving dinner at professor's home where everybody enjoyed the turkey and wine except me of course. So I finally took a break, and had a Harry Potter mania kind of thing with friends this week. We watched the previous movies back to back at our home on a projecter. So it was all home theater stuff with popcorn, huge screen and loud sound. Then we went for the 7th's first part, which was "totally awesome". Scariest of all movies in the series and a masterpiece. Perhaps I loved it so much because the 6th one was so terrible.

Since I have taken a break from science, it is art that I will catch up with. There is a novel that I have been reading very slowly, I want to read some more of it. Then maybe I will perhaps write some shit up and send it to a contest or the market. Then there is a secret writing project that needs some attention from me. Hmmm, lots to do still. Break? What break? Must go work.

How Terrible I Am.

My terribleness follows me like a Shadow. It swoops in almost every event that transpires in my life.

# Science? 
I had submitted a poster 'just-for-fun' for an environmental/sustainability conference which was asking for submissions. I did it in like just 5 hours and send it on the last day. One of the mistakes I did was I never discussed it with my advisor. I should at least taken her advice if not permission (which was infact the most important thing)

But when someone told me that you can't simply send out research stuff by writing your professor's name without consulting her first. It could be sensitive data or data which is not ready to be shared yet. I got a bit scared and just hoped that ofcourse yeah they are not going to accept my silly poster.

And guess what, they did. Bless them.

Then they offered a financed trip to Atlanta in the first week on January, 2011 with the host (Georgia Tech) providing good accommodation and everything in a nice hotel for 4 days. I was elated the day I got that email. But then, my terribleness came into the picture. I had to finally, reluctantly tell everything to my advisor who was kind of  'shocked, not-very-happy' and she gave me some long lectures and told things which made me realize how big mistake I had made. I had sent out the research results without even asking the entire team and she explained, "You're too young now, its just your 1st sem, its too early to put out results, don't worry you'll have a lot of conferences in your career."

And I withdrew from the offer.

# Love? 
Over the past few months in this new land, I had strange encounters with the undergraduate (ug) kind. Especially the female types.

- There was this American blonde ug chick who asked me out for lunch one day. I was sort of blank faced for 20 seconds after which she added, "Only if you're okay with it, I will join you". Then we went to teh lunch in a nice place (I don't know if I have described all this in a previous post, I really don't remember), and she was telling me all sorts of crazy stories including the ones in which she and her friends got so much drunk one Friday night, that her she-friend took off her top in front of everyone and then didn't remember anything about doing such a thing the next day when she woke up.

After that she asked me, "Are you a social drinker?" I hesitated, after which she added, "Do you drink, at all?"

My ideal answer should have been, "Hell yeah, what's life without alcohol?" Instead I told the truth and said, "Umm, no." After knowing that she began to behave a bit differently with me in class, although she still sits next to me. Thank you terribleness.

- Then there is this weird Chinese chick who has been having some close encounters. She doesn't really get tired of waving hands at me whether its the outside of the library or the inside of my department or even if its bloody long corridor. Whenever I see her, or I go past her, I see a hand propped up in air and a smile spread on her face welcoming my existence. But then I discarded all these signs considering the fact that some people are just really cheerful and friendly. Too BLOODY FRIENDLY.

But then my doubts were assured when yesterday I met her on my way to the lab and she appeared there, with a propped hand and a plastered smile and asked me,

"Are these your new glasses?"
"Wuh? uh? Umm, yeah," (I was left shocked as nobody in the entire frikking town recognized that I bought new glasses, cuz they pretty much look the same as my old ones, and yes if you remember well I had to order new glasses online due to this.)

"Well, how did you know? I mean, how'd you notice?" I asked.

"It has gray...bla bla..earlier was black..." and she added a lot of other technical information which I didn't hear as I was too busy being shocked at her power of observance.

"Oh um okay. okay c u then," I said and tried to escape my stalker (totally different stalker from this one)

"Btw, you know your glasses are awesome," she smiled as wide she could before I turned my back to her.

That line kept ringing for quite a bit in my mind but then I thought I shouldn't waste too much time thinking about Americans and Chinese, cuz there is a Indian out there, far away, waiting for me.

And since she is there for me, so I could really care less.

destroEYEd

I could feel that man's warm breath gently brushing past my right cheek. His exhalation and inhalation were absolutely uniform, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm. The longer his face stayed so close to mine, the higher my uneasiness grew. Not to say about the red light he was shining in my right eye since the past 40 seconds.

Finally he wheeled back on his swivel chair and said, "Hmm, okay the next test now."

I let out a sigh of relief on having my optician off my face and remembered the day it had all begun. It started recently when the letters and numbers on the blackboards of my classes began to blur. I knew I had to get an eye exam but I was delaying until now. After finding the cheapest deal in the city, on which my health insurance gave some discount, I finally had found time to take the eye exam.

All the time I had cursed the healthcare, eye-care and such stuff since it was so costly in US but now when I actually went through the examination of my ENTIRE eye, I was convinced that it was worth the cost. The doctor spend around 45 minutes on me and did a whole lot series of tests which I had never heard of. That's another thing, that this one eye exam has changed a lot in my life.

After a lot of boring and long sessions of guessing my vision defect by showing a hell lot of skewed images, the doctor gave my first shock. He told me that I was suffering from something called "Astigmatism" and till now I have been wearing incorrect glasses. This first shock of being diagnosed with a new disease was subdued when he said that its pretty normal and can be easily corrected by a kind of lenses.

"But when your new glasses with the new subscription come out, you gonna hate me, at least for two days because your vision will be all groggy," the doctor said with a dramatic tone.

I was already beginning to feel that there was something queer about this particular eye doctor and I was sure of it after a few minutes. Because this first shock was nothing compared to the second shock that came and shook me and my life.

After a series of another tests which included dropping stingy and weird liquids in my eyes, he pulled out a large sheet with four technical sketches of a human eye.

"These are the four stages of a human eye. This first one is the normal eye, everybody has it like this. When suffering from a particular disease, the structure begins to change and a person shifts to stage two and then the eye looks like this. The fourth stage, can you see, how distorted that is? That's the final stage of X," he lectured and allowed me some time to grasp and make sense of what he was saying. I also asked some doubts and I made sure I could now answer any question based on those sketches.

Once I had nodded to indicate that I had understood so far and he could now proceed to teach me more, he blurted out the bloody fact,

"And guess what? You're on stage four," he said and watched my face with the most serious look.

"Wh-what? Why? I am suffering from X? But what is this X?" words that left my mouth were staggered and ill-structured.

"X is a disease which slowly leads to complete blindness," he said in a calm tone, just like stating a fact or writing a death sentence.

"B-but it can be cured right?"

"No, X has no cure. But yes, it can be managed," he said with an expressionless face, not allowing me to make any inference from his statements.


I stayed silent for a few seconds and then he filled the silence between us with a smile and some assuring words, "But, but, but, BUT, I said your condition is at stage four it doesn't mean you are diagnosed with X. The good news is your bla bla is quite huge. I mean, its gigantic as compared to normal people. Its very strong. So that bla bla could be the reason why I am getting a number higher than normal. But again it could be X too."


I didn't know whether to feel good or bad. I just stayed silent, my eyes and ears urging to hear more. My heart skipped a few beats and I was breathing fast now. The small room's walls at the clinic were suddenly beginning to crash upon me.

He continued after a pause, "SO, X is very rare at your age of 21. It usually occurs at old age or people having such such diseases. But then it could occur at your age as well, we can't say. Since I don't know your old records and you haven't been ever tested for this before, I can't say whether you have moved from stage 1 to stage 4 over the time - which means you are suffering from X OR you're born with stage 4 and your bla bla large size is giving me higher range numbers."

"S-so what does it mean?"

"It means I will put you under surveillance condition. You will have to get regular eye exams in order to verify whether your number is increasing or not, whether you are indeed moving up the stages or not. If you're not, well then its just because your bla bla is huge and its because of that, so no worries there."

"How often do I need to take a test?"

"Atleast once a year would be adequate. Okay so you're good to go. Anymore questions?" he said and pulled back his chair.

I wanted to ask a whole bunch of questions and have a long discussion with him in which he could assure me that I was all right but then nothing much came to my mind so I stayed blank face.

"Did I confuse you to death with all that jargon and technical terms?" he asked with a mild pity on his lips.

"No, I got it. But you scared me a bit," I said, like making a plea before a judge.

"Well," he hunched up his shoulders in a manner of justifying himself, "I just believe that you should know the truth about your health. You should be in control of your own life."

I exited the clinic, my mind swinging. On my way back, while sitting in the bus, I was looking the greenery and all those pretty sites which I daily see and then thought, "One day, I won't be able to see them?" Fear and worry struck me like it had before but this time the intensity was higher.

Then after a few hours, I remembered all other people in the world and their conditions and their rare problems. And compared to them, I thought, I am nothing. I am not even diagnosed with X yet. I might have it and I will know about that for sure after one year. And even I have it, I can manage it with proper medication. All those people did fight it, right? So I am. I am going to fight it.

Either you can get scared of a situation and hide your face in your pillow and tell n oone about it. OR, you can come out, yell and say, "I am going to fight it."

People like Helen Keller, Lance Armstrong, Stephen Hawking did fight, didn't they? But one thing I have realized today is, its easier to fight off a financial burden and seek success, because you know your financial problems will be taken care of after success and thus you have the right motivation. I am no more in any kind of financial burden, but there were times in my childhood when I lived under a temporary roof that leaked, that's completely another story. But I am saying that its much difficult to fight a medical problem and still do something in your life. Because for a few hours, I had lost complete motivation to do anything in my life. I just wanted to lie down and rest. I wanted to stop running.

But no, I am not going to sit back. I am going to fight it. There will be a post after an year about my results. Either I am clean or am not.  Even if that means waiting for one year for one test I can do nothing about and which will decide my fate, I will fight. I am in control of my life.

Are you?

Ramblings of a Graduate Student

I would like to thank all those people who had contributed or played a part, big or small, in my entire journey to US, starting from building a dream and then realizing it. Following are some of the snippets that may give you an idea of the current twist in this crazy life.

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*I wake up one day and realize that I need not cook or cut vegetables or take care of the utensils. Because today is not my turn. Because today my third flatmate has to cook. She's gonna take care of it. And it's amazing. (I finally get some time to blog too, not for long though)
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*My apartment is awesome. With the attached bathroom feature my room looks more like a suite to me. (Especially considering the kinda places I have lived in past ofcourse excluding the _ hostel at _ University ;)
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*The city is so serene and calm and peaceful and still so imba. I just love the crowd (undergrads? xD)
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*I visited the both libraries (University library and Public library in town) on a single day. Seeing those books, smelling their faint odor, touching them as I walked past endless corridors of infinitely long shelves and racks, I was left in a state of awe. It's like I have been waiting for this my whole life. And it's there, right there, so close to me. Existing in a solid, silent and defying manner.

Waiting for me to come. (I remember that how in my past colleges(degree/diploma) I used to hang out in the most desolated fiction shelves/rack of the respective libraries. Among those limited number of fiction books crumpled inside academic libraries I used to look for jewels.

And here, it's a whole new treasure in front of me. I could call myself lucky.
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*When you walk in the road, you feel like a mob lord or perhaps a king too. Any road you traverse, the car will stop 40 to 50 meters before you and give you ENOUGH space to happily cross at any pace you like. Pedestrians are given first preference, no matter what. The driver even smiles at you and nods if you smile back. Sometimes me and a car are stranded in middle of a road, me waiting for the car to pass by and the driver wait inside waiting for me pass by. It's no more like dodging the traffic with your life in your hands back there in home country.

Disclaimer: This does not hold true for entire US(Try this in California, NY or DC at your own risk). Only for small and hospitable towns, in one of which I currently live.
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*The research is no child's play. It's spanned from the most basic to the highest level. Every day I sit at my desk just to understand what's going on. I am supposed to do literature review for a few weeks before I actually get to do stuff by hands. Looking at the equipment and machines in the lab, I can see what an "advanced" country really means. I had been playing with stones and sticks till now. It's time for big toys.
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*There are hell lot of restaurants here with all kinds of food that I have never tasted or heard of. Mexican, Thai, Chinese, American ofcourse ;) and don't remember what else. I aim to taste every thing before I graduate.
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*The buildings @ campus which have been standing in a majestic way since more than 100 years make me stop in my path and wonder aloud. "Is it real?" "Or it's just a dream?"
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*I want to take down all activities offered here. Canoeing? Skiing? Caving? Trekking? Fooling around without purpose?

Bring it on.

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My little body is aweary of this great world. An Indian PhD student horsing around in Europe.

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