Searchers

“I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains,, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know – unless it be to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.”

- James Kavanaugh, There are men too gentle to live among wolves

This is in the foreword of the book. There are many beautiful poems in it as well. While I read them in spurts between classes yesterday, I hope to return to it over the weekend.

Pumpkin carving

Much fun was had on Sunday and several hours spent in pumpkin carving. This was my very first pumpkin carving and if you notice that you are puzzled by one of the designs, just turn it upside down and you will see what it is (yes, I got the template upside down). We had kits, we scooped out the innards of the pumpkins, we drew and we carved. I think they look amazing and it was such a well-spent few hours, where we were able to (mostly) forget grad school. 

Diwali

A Diwali that was full of laughter, humor, love and life. Of friends and family. Of food and a shared love for Roohavza. Of unexpected sparklers and conversations. May your year and life be full of everything you wish.

Asking for More by Sarah Manguso

I am not asking to suffer less.
I hope to be nearly crucified.
To live because I don't want to.

That hope, that sweet agent —
My best work is its work.
The horse I ride into Hell is my best horse
And bears its name.
So, friends, drink your cocktails and wear your hats.
Thank you for leaving me this whole world to go mad in.

I am not asking for mercy. I am asking for more.
I don't mind when no mercy comes
Or when it comes in the form of my mad self
Running at me. I am not asking for mercy.

www.cstone.net/~poems/askinman.htm

Doing ethnography right

For one of our classes, the prof sent us to go and observe people and make notes. Some excerpts from mine:

I was sitting next to D, who was writing rather intently.

"Jealous of D and D's focus. Why can't I be like that? Also, hand is cramping a lot. Maybe I am getting carpal tunnel? Note: Google exercises."

"Can see Prof. B in a meeting room. Last class was hilarious. Strategic mapping can be funny and useful apparently."

"Just saw M and B upstairs with a hawk eye view. Jealous of them now. Why didn't I think of this. Tried to make eye contact but think they are ignoring me."

"How are these people not noticing us creepily looking at them and making notes. This is why I am paranoid."

"Have never seen a grad student wearing sports shorts to school. Must be an undergrad thing."

"Admirable how blatantly everyone ignores 'This space is reserved for an event sign'. Go students and subversiveness."



I think I may need some practice before I get this right.

Happy Diwali

The thing with never leaving is that you never get to realize how the absence of everything you took for granted feels. I was laughing with a friend about how we both missed our first Fall seasons here. The intensity of moving and settling in took up so much brain space, that I completely missed the fact that the trees changed, that the color of the leaves had become absolutely dazzling, that the sky was in fact no longer a monotone, but an evolving palette of greens, reds, yellows and blues. I don't remember any of it. I don't remember the trees lining the sidewalks, on campus, on my way to school, in the park across my old house, it is a blank slate. I recall moving through the days heavily, almost as if underwater. I remember the effort it took to just function, simply be. I remember feeling alone, and most of all I remember feeling wrong. I felt I had done something wrong, I had become wrong. So much of this came out at moments I thought I had under control. I would call home, to chat, only to sob intensely and I remember the ache, both in me and across the screen. But the distant sparkle of lights can be seen underwater.

Personal by Tony Hoagland

Don’t take it personal, they said;

but I did, I took it all quite personal—

the breeze and the river and the color of the fields;

the price of grapefruit and stamps,

the wet hair of women in the rain—

And I cursed what hurt me

and I praised what gave me joy,

the most simple-minded of possible responses.

The government reminded me of my father,

with its deafness and its laws,

and the weather reminded me of my mom,

with her tropical squalls.

Enjoy it while you can, they said of Happiness

Think first, they said of Talk

Get over it, they said

at the School of Broken Hearts

but I couldn’t and I didn’t and I don’t

believe in the clean break;

I believe in the compound fracture

served with a sauce of dirty regret,

I believe in saying it all

and taking it all back

and saying it again for good measure

while the air fills up with I’m-Sorries

like wheeling birds

and the trees look seasick in the wind.

Oh life! Can you blame me

for making a scene?

You were that yellow caboose, the moon

disappearing over a ridge of cloud.

I was the dog, chained in some fool’s backyard;

barking and barking:

trying to convince everything else

to take it personal too.

 – Tony Hoagland

Homecoming 2014

Among other things, this week involved a tailgate before the Homecoming 2014 event. This was organized by the College of Education and Human Development, and they very graciously allowed Council of International Graduate Students (of which I am a board member), to invite students as well. The week has been lovely, full of Fall sun and leaves but Friday was a little chilly. The turnout was still fabulous as was the food, the hot cider and brownies and of course, the photo booth. I hadn't intended to walk in the Homecoming parade (I wasn't sure what it would involve), but I eventually I did do that and it was quite the experience. More in pictures: 

Toys and fun stuff at tables inside the tent

Goldy the Gopher

Being yourself

I have been thinking about what does it mean to be authentic (and reading as well). Not original, not unique, just authentic. I like the word authentic, it conveys weight and meaning to me. But honestly. I have stopped asking myself if I am authentic. At some level, I think many of us are plagued by the impostor syndrome. Especially as women. Some of the best people I know, I doubt they take themselves too seriously. They are very aware of how much they have left to learn, to do and this is despite being accomplished in so many ways (and good human beings as well).  I doubt if I remind myself to 'be more authentic', I'd achieve it.

Trainspotting

This is a post from when I was working. I used to travel a fair bit and unexpected things would often happen. In this post, I recount one of the more unusual adventures I had, while trying to board a train from a small town.

The interesting thing about my work is that a lot of interesting, unexpected things happen. Some of these are fun on the spot, for some I spot the fun much later. One of my recent train journeys is definitely something in which I saw the humor much later. Much, much later.

I had to board a Jan Shatabdi train early in the morning from this town in Punjab. I recall from previous attempts that I had to run for my coach in the train in the past because nothing is marked (unlike the Delhi platform where the train comes to stop at specific points for specific coaches). The coaches in trains are connected but I often get confused and so I always aim to board my coach. I had thought the confusion at the platform was bad. I was wrong. 

Lightly, go lightly

When I was a younger, sullen person, sulking a bit much at the world and all its travails, I was given a very good piece of advice once: to learn to be light and use humor. I don't think I have succeeded in all facets of my life but goodness knows, I try. I was looking at some old collections and came across these lines I had saved in a draft. I hope you enjoy them as well. 

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard.

Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly.

Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply.

Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.

I was so preposterously serious in those days, such a humorless little prig.

Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me.

When it comes to dying even. Nothing ponderous, or portentous, or emphatic.

No rhetoric, no tremolos,

no self conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ or Little Nell.

And of course, no theology, no metaphysics.

Just the fact of dying and the fact of the clear light.

So throw away your baggage and go forward.

There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet,

trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair.

That’s why you must walk so lightly.

Lightly my darling,

on tiptoes and no luggage,

not even a sponge bag,

completely unencumbered.”

~Aldous Huxley

Fall @ Twin Cities

Fall is beautiful here. I step out, I see the leaves changing color, I breathe in the crisp air. Mundane, daily tasks such as a walk to the bus stop, heading across campus, all of these have more beauty in them. I am trying several, small, new things in my life this year and one of them is to pause in the moment, because as I remind myself, this is my life. There is no waiting for life for when it will start. This is it, here and now.

Saturday mornings as I walk for a meeting for Council of International
Graduate Students (an organization I am really happy to be involved with)

A view of Coffman Memorial Union while waiting for the Campus Connector to
head to West Bank (our campus is divided into East and West Bank)

By the bus stop near my house. It is very close to the St. Paul
campus, which has a distinct layout and charm.

Stereotyping

Stereotyping is a common affliction. I think it is fair to say most of us stereotype and most of us are at the receiving end of stereotypes. The further you leave what I would call a 'home base' (and this may vary from colony, to city, to state, to country), the greater are chances of your being at the receiving end of a stereotype (and of your trying to understand the world by using stereotypes to simplify life). As an international student, I always knew this was something that was going to happen and that I was going to react to it, but I am still surprised by the variation and intensity of both the stereotyping and my reaction to it (as much as I am grateful for all the thoughtful and intelligent and kind people I meet).

Avatar ahoy!

Meet S. My grad school avatar. I have always had an interest in (not necessarily skills in) cartooning and I think this is a good and more productive way to deal with some of the realities of being in grad school. I am looking for help in learning how to sketch better, ideas for an occasional comic strip and suchlike. If you have suggestions or ideas, let me know. Have a great weekend! (You need to click on read more)

Notes from the Judd Fellowship Ceremony

This is my favorite picture :-).
A friend pointed out I have only one
 'funny pose'. Jazz hands.

The impetus to start this blog came when I was awarded the Judd Fellowship - it was one of the suggestions in an email sent out, and I am glad I followed through on the impulse. I am also glad for being able to keep the blog alive (mostly in spurts) after completing my summer field experience. My relative silence implies lots is going on: classes, assignments, tests, some confusing and annoying project selection processes, attending fitness classes at the gym and more.Yesterday was the Judd Fellowship ceremony, where university staff, winners, donors and friends of the fellowship came together at the McNamara Alumni Center (you know when an event is at McNamara, it is a little bit fancy!)

Winter is coming

Winter is coming. I wish it could wait a while. If winter is coming, it must mean the first month back has flown by fast. If winter is coming, it must mean Diwali, Thanksgiving and December holidays are also coming. It means the leaves will soon be replaced by intensely twinkling lights. It means that the blur of assignments, work, exams and proposals, of the weeks of hurriedly wrapped lunchboxes and hastily combed hair, have taken away a month and some of this year. If winter is coming, it means the end of 2014 will also come, and the earth and all of us will be older (except those who won't be). If winter is coming, then it makes me sad, because I just put the final shelf and blanket in my room, making sure the colors and coziness are always there to comfort me. How can winter be almost here, I haven't take enough naps in the sun, I haven't looked at the flowers and trees with the intensity I need to make them memories. I have so many books left to read. I have visits to plan. None of it matters (just as everything does). Winter is coming.

Picture updates

Work desk became much more fun