I did say I didn’t feel like posting bu this last break(if we can call it that) aroused many strong feelings and awakened the blog Kumbakarna in me. Different people have different motives for coming to grad school. I too had mine and decided to take the plunge back into academia so much so that the thought of a Phd doesn’t seem scary. Of all the academic experiences, this has been the most intense. There have been incessant deadlines and assignments and submissions and time for reflection is a luxury one can ill afford.

But it has been a revelation in a sense. It has strongly made me question what I am doing here, what my broader life plans are and the experience has been rather a humbling one, where you are merely a statistic making up the numbers. It was Stalin who said ‘A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths a statistic.’ I digress as usual. It’s the quizzer in me

The constraints on time places you in a weird Catch-22 situation. People on campus are going through the exact same troubles that you are and you find it a bit much to place a strain on them to talk about it. Chin up and be a man they said. The external world doesn’t know what you’re upto and can’t identify and you are at pains to explain the exact workings of the system you voluntarily chose to get into ,which is extracting much out of you.

But above all, the course of this nature has a profound impact on the type of person that you want to become after. The different things that we look for and different things we want to become. I saw ‘Wake up Sid’ recently and the incessant shots of Marine Drive and Metro brought back memories of Xavier’s to the fore. Of a time which was less complicated and where we felt that life would be met with ease.

But above all, I believe a course of this kind teaches you to be selfish. Selfish about your needs, goals and desires and whatever makes you happy. But what matters?

‘You don’t understand who they thought I was supposed to be.’

Halfway through this year, more setbacks than successes. It’s tough going. Picking yourself up for the next day seems harder than ever. The setbacks aren’t helping. But, the music does and the great company to boot.

I’ve lost the enthusiasm to write. Rediscovering it any time soon makes it only a distant possibility. I miss the comforts of the old life.

Updates will probably resume in April..

With every new chapter in one’s life, there comes the usual doubts and the daily epiphanies about whether one is doing the right thing.

Things have been hectic so far. But, that one moment at 3 am sitting on the grass and staring at the sky and listening to your favourite song, makes everything else sweeter…

I miss the city. I miss pool at the Elbow Room on Friday. I miss the Tuns, the Beaver and the George. I miss D1A. I miss the bagel shop and the biryani on Brick Lane. I miss the milkshake at AMT. I miss stepping out for BLT to Amici at 8. I miss Spitalfields lunch on Sunday. I miss the pizza hut outings with Tommy and the Drummond Street ones as well. I miss the karahi chicken at Raavi Kebab. I yearn for mango lassi at Tayyabs. I miss the midnight rides on the 188 or the 23. I miss the discounted Borough market brownie. I miss the baski banter and the trip to UTO beer on Saturday mornings.

I yearn for the 355 mails to make a coffee plan. I wish I could walk from the Aldwych to Crispin Street. I miss the pool table at Roseberry. I can’t wait for another visit to Chennai Dosa. I want to look at the stars at Founder’s Arms. I miss watching the games at the Dean Swift. I’m listening to NIN and I can’t stop thinking about the way we used to be .

I’m thinking of all of you katans and I can’t wait to see you all and be the mad group that we used to be. I can’t wait to go back. It’s been 16 months too long.

Somehow, I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you.

‘When a man is tired of Lawndon, he is tired of life.’….

A friend was busy telling me yesterday not to get upset if she didn’t stay in touch as often as I expected her to. It got me thinking and further conversation with a Xavierite friend confirmed the ‘easily upset’ tag. Apparently, she was telling me how I would be so upset sometimes in class and she’d asked me what the matter was and I’d reply saying I didn’t want to talk about it. She’s probably right on that front. 3rd year was rather upsetting in a lot of respects and it came to a rather ignonimous end with Shadow dying.

There’s this real diffidence and reluctance to see your faults and even own up to them. I’m of course no stranger to the above . I know I get upset easily. When i get criticized, when people doubt my abilities and of course I suppose when friends let me down. But the sole upside is it doesn’t take much to get me happy. A nice song can transform a day in a matter of minutes.

But then the question of expectations rears it’s ugly head. How rational are one’s expectations? I know for one, expectations have really been revised drastically downwards after my stint in the Lawn-don. As cliched as it may sound, I changed my views a lot in the Lawn-don. Of course, there are certain friends whom you have more expectations of. But then again is that warranted even? All relationships are seldom equal. Be it platonic, sexual or whatever. 9 times out of ten, the relationship usually means more to one person than the other.

In the past, my pride might have made me bristle at the so called lack of keeping in touch ability of some of my friends. I’ve worked on that over the years and things are a lot better these days.

This last month has been such a roller coaster of emotion. Despair, sadness, grief, anticipation, celebration, dread, guilt and acceptance. I want to go to sleep and pretend all this never happened.

But, at the end of the day given all these events and occurences, expectations don’t matter. Life goes on and at this point in time, I’m just too tired to get upset..