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I'm writing in after a long time. And I'm sad. Because I'm writing in at all. I thought that this lonely little workplace
had seen its day. But even as I stand as far away from loneliness as I can, together, partnered, in love....I realise that
this sad old place still has a role to play. Times are difficult. And I realise, yet again, that nature is way too complex
for simple concepts like 'perfect relationships'.
Ideally, I would have loved to be with her right now, not writing,
instead talking...and growing together. Less ideally, I would even have preferred to just write to her busy mailbox...but,
things don't work in ideal ways, or even less ideal ways. Things are just the way they are. Massively messy and difficult.
Thats why we need something as desperate as a brain to even survive.
She's busy. Rightly so. And must be. I often
blame myself for it. And I know that I helped push her in a ditch. If I hadn't, maybe she would have been better off...maybe
still as busy, maybe also under pressure....but definitely not as pained as she is now. She would have been happy.
I don't want to write to her now. Though, I know, that in the end I am essentially doing that. She will read this some
day. She can...she has the access. But, I know that she won't now...and hence won't be disturbed with my random musings. And,
obviously, writing in third person makes it a different scenario...and makes it safer, and easier to say things.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not going to write about something sad. In fact, I'm exceedingly happy. Happy to be with these
thoughts. I'm sad that some of these many thoughts are at the cost of her own desires....but, I am selfish. And so I am happy.
That
strange little niggle that has been troubling me for the past two years suddenly jumped right in front of my eyes. I suddenly
know the problem. I have been lying to myself. I have been exceedingly unethical. I have done that to compete....with her
mostly. And I have let myself down. It's a strange irony. I did all that to compete with her, only to realise in the end,
that I can't...and didnt' want to. :) And in the process, I have lost myself. Cruel irony.
Today I wish to question the very thing that I have so conveniently taken for granted all these years. Am I able enough
to do research ? Or more importantly, do I fit the vocation of Scientific research. I shudder as I pose these questions. Till
yesterday, these questions had simple, unfailing, obvious answers. A resounding OF COURSE, don't be stupid. I think I have
grown up since yesterday.
Why do I pose these questions ? Because I'm scared ? Maybe. Because I'm suddenly honest
? Definitely. Because Im doing nothing ? I think so.
What does a scientist do ? Research was the answer that came to
my mind all this time. And so I said, I'm going to do research. And I was so unashamedly enthusiastic about it, that I forgot
to look at where I was going, and if I was on the right track...and whether I COULD be on the right track ever.
So,
i pose the question again today. I posed it....to myself. The conversation is below.
I: "What does
a scientist do ?", I asked.
Me: "Research" comes the answer.
I: "No,
no.", I insisted. "Try again. Harder this time.
I: What does a scientist do ?"
Me:
"Research" comes the reply.
(I'm disappointed. Me isn't interested in this. But I must try.)
I:
"Hell. This isn't working. Ok, lets do it another way.
What do you do in research ? "
(With a twinkle
in his eyes)
Me: "Ah. Now, thats the right question."
(Then, with a bored look on his face)
Me: "U think, u look, u think again, u test, u experiment."
(Phew!)
I: "Ok.
So what do u need...to do research ?"
(With a Big smirk on his face)
Me: Lots of money!!!!
(I'm Irritated but amused.)
I: "C'mon, think clearly. Be serious"
(He seems
to be game now)
Me: "Ok ok. Sorry.
Honesty.
Scathing honesty.
Unshakable honesty."
(This is going somewhere now)
I: Do u have it ?
Me: "No." he
replies, very quickly.
(Flustered by the suddenness)
I: "Uh ok, what else do u need ? " Me: "A
thinking mind." me replies, almost as if he knows exactly what is going on.
I: Do u have it
? I continue, hesitantly.Me: Yes. A good one.
(Good, I'm encouraged! Hes not gone totally
nuts)
I: Ok. Next. What else ?
Me: "Discipline and industry." me
replies, not affected by my enthusiasm.
I: "Do u have it ? " I continue.
Me:
"No." me replies, dispassionately.
(I'm definitely perturbed by me's remorseless, dispassionate answers.
I continue very apprehensively) I: "Hmm....now lets move on to more important questions. You don't have
honesty and industry and discipline. Do u have the guts to get them ?"
Me: "No." says
me, still dispassionate, but I note the subtlest of hints of sadness in his voice.
(I can't let this go on. I'm going
to be forceful.)
I: "NO ??????What the hell makes you say that ?"
Me: "I haven't shown
that yet." he replies slowly, no longer dispassionate, the pain and sadness show clearly in his eyes.
(I'm taken
aback. My forceful tone gives way to a desperate plea.)
I: "C'mon, don't say that u haven't been honest
and hard-working and disciplined. U've done so well!!! "
He gives in.
Me: "No, I haven't!!
I have only tried to run a race!! And when I reached the end. I realised that there was no finishing line. And I lost."
All
traces of calmness disappear as me bursts out. Ending his outburst in a strange silence that reminds of the calm prelude of
a storm that is expected from the depth of me's eyes.
I: "Huh ? Please, please. No nonsense. Please
be straightforward." I reply.
I'm thoroughly confused. I have lost track of the conversation. All I see is
this new spate of emotions. I wish me would go back to being dispassionate. We can't have emotions in a logical discussion.
Me:
"I assumed that I was interested in research. Or that I had any idea what research was all about. Outside, I stood
like I knew everything about everything. But, I was just making bogus statements. There was nothing genuine. No experience."
Im panicky. Me is giving up his strongest guard. His confidence in his beliefs. I cant think of what to say. I just wait,
with bated breath. Me usually thinks things to their logical end.maybe me will this time too.
Me: " I remember
I once told her that I got hooked on to research after Cal. I cannot imagine a bigger lie. I just got hooked on to working
in an environment where I was doing something new. I wasnt doing research. Unlike her. She actually learnt about research.
And DID research. I just sat there and tried to do things as and how I liked them. I remember, the most exciting times were
those when I defiantly drifted from the protocol. I never cared to document correctly what I was doing. The purpose was more
and pure protein. How it came about, I knew. I didnt care to put it down on paper and think it through, scientifically. I
may be thinking logically and wonderfully. I may have had the guts to do things differently, but I didnt do scienceI just
played a selfish game of the mind."
Ouch. This is the most naked honesty. Stop. Stop please. Me cant help I to
handle that. I let him continue, anxiously.Me: "Where was the science in my life ? Yes, I was working towards understanding
knowledge better. My mind was developing well. But there was no science. The rigour, the sincerity, the focus on the scientific
method. I kicked it all out of my life."
Um
Me: "When I look at people around me and think
that some of them are going to become scientists, I realise that most of them know even less about research. But, they have
a natural tendency towards the componentsthey just need refinement. Superficially, I may think that Im way ahead, and only
she knows more, but I know that thats not the whole story. We got the opportunity. She took it, I wasted it. Yes, there was
luck. But, there was also hard work and willingness. And its lack on my side. And, because I have been given the gift once
and never saw itI fear that I may not be able to see it in the future. I may not have the machinery to LEARN the scientific
method. I feel weak."
I listen to all this. And notice that though mes being exceedingly honest. He isnt saying
everything. Hes pretty baseless. I think Im going to confront him.
I: "This sounds like a whole lot
of bull-shit. For once, what makes u think that people have a natural tendency ? And, did u ever actually get proper opportunity?
Cal was pathetic. And JNU had little scientific ethic, or ethic of any sort. U cant give up after these two, exceedingly hopeless
endeavors. U deserve more."
There is a strong defiant look on his face. Were in for an argument.
Me:
"People have a respect for procedure. If not a respect, at least a faith in them. That gives them a natural tendency.
I lack that. I have to get trained in that. Which is going to be a lot tougher."
Im surprised at the low amplitude
of his voice. Usually, he is pretty much screaming at this point.
I: "Tougher doesnt mean difficult. Uve mastered tougher things in the past."
Me: "Yes, I have, but, I got a chanceI didnt take it. And because I was too unwilling and self-consumed. That is telling."
I: "Cmon man! Ur going to a good place. Theyre going to teach you how to be scientific. And the whole
point is that being scientific excites you. Yesterday, when Sanket told you about those analytical concepts they taught him,
you were excitedat least on the inside."
Me: "Im worried. That I may not be receptive. I wish I could be sure. But, Im not. And so, Ive decided
to be honest."
I: "Good ne! You have to be honest. Thats the requirement. J
"
(He smiles, its that patient smile which communicates that oh-no-u-got-me-wrong feeling, and makes me feel decidedly uneasy.)
Me:
"Yes, Im going to be honest. So honest, that if I realise mid-way that this is not for me, that I dont
fit the mould of research, Im going to leave. I want to leave eventually anyway. At 40, 50 or 25will be clear soon."
(Im
disgusted with his fatalism and complete lack of enthusiasm. But, I know where to hit, I know where itll hurt)
I:
"Ah! Back to making plans, huh ? Interesting. What about all those cool ideas of making plans with her.?"
(It
has its necessary disconcerting effect on him. But, he recovers rapidly. I have no idea whats coming)
Me:
"She will want me to do what I can. Not struggle through what Im not made for. But, youre right. I cant plan.
All Im doing is generating options. This option did not exist till now. I was adamant on research. Now, it necessarily does.
It must. I owe it to the scientific world. Id be doing harm if I continue even if I dont fit."
I begin to say something.
But hes not finished.
Me: "Even if I do manage to get the hang of it. I wouldnt like to
continue forever. In fact, if we shift abroad, Id like to stop real soon. If we stay, I donno how long, but Id like to shift
to people. WE decide, in the end. I wonder what she thinks about it."
I: "Ur worried arent you ? About her and your views not matching."
Me: "Well...yes. I am. But, I know we can talk and create a correct view together. I understand there
is so much tangible at stake for her. And so very little tangible at stake for me. So I think, I should to try and be the
flexible one. But, itll be tough. Well have to handle it."
I: "Did you send her that mail?"
Me: "No, not yet. That mail should
be discussed and talked about immediately. Otherwise one of us would end up deciding to sacrifice something. I dont think
that should happen. And there is little time for discussion right now. If we start doing that, itll spoil her priorities right
now. I know she would be anxious to read that mailbut, I dont think she remembers it. Im scared of the discussion right now."
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The Perfume and the Poison.
I know this chap. He's amazing. Vibrant, intelligent, creative, extremely enthusiastic, very active, energetic....working
as if there is no tommorow. You look at him and think...."sakhat!! just think what he could do with that sort of energy. think
what he's capable of!!!"
And then u get introduced to him. And the fear slithers in...cold and shivering. The same vibrancy makes u
shudder. You realise that the activity is killing you. That u must race against the same enthusiasm now.
Imagine the
irony. The very thing that seduces you. That is so attractive. That you fall in love with. Suddenly its the threat. The knife
that is quietly, painlessly, and rapidly cutting through your strength and substance.
And u cry.
There is no option, it seems, but to go for the kill. To cut urself open and throw it out. Even if that
brings pain. I just saw the sugery last week. And saw him after it. On a surgeons tray. The vibrancy, the energy, the activity,
the enthusiasm....that was causing havoc in you was now merely a lump of tissue on a tray. Almost lifeless. Almost helpless.
Not much had changed. But still this change.
I'm learning this the hard way. But...being a cancer is not easy. It comes with this huge painful responsibility
that I must learn to live up to. The responsibility of staying on the surgeon's tray....from where the fatal vibrancy, the
dangerous enthusiasm doesn't show. And from where I cannot do any damage.
People have told me abour Reiki, about Yoga, about all sorts of things these last few days. About how they
dissove these cancers and bring complete cure. That remains the only hope for me. That somebody dares to dissolve me into
oblivion. So that I can keep being vibrant. And energetic. And enthusiastic.
Or I'll have to stay on the surgeon's
tray. Alone and lifeless.
Ouch.
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I work very hard for attention. Shamelessly, drastically and desperately hard sometimes. Yet, I need
it, I guess. So much, that at times, i will pick out the most intimate, the most private of my feelings and experiences and
share them.....maybe just 'trade' them for some closeness, some comraderie, some love.
But, in this business of large trade offs, there is always the threat of that small change...the humour
that we usually employ to draw ourselves together. When these clanking coins are returned in a trade off....it's sometimes
difficult to keep your heart from breaking. It's easy to lose your temper and hate that small change, the humour. But, that
isn't fair....for it's that humour that keeps u going all the time, keeps drawing u closer to people most of the time. It
doesn't deserve this detestment.
It happened today. I tried to share a very private experience. And the clanking made
it's tender structure crumble. For a moment, I was broken. And it took some time the true realisation to come. Strangely short
time though. And i wonder why ALL these years i couldn't see such a simple thing. I guess, it's something to do with the grey
hair!
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I had this dream today...in the afternoon. I faintly remember having another with a similar tenor the previous
night. I was roaming around the IIM Campus...lush green...feeling very very nice. It was a feeling of strange contenment....of
immense health. I was young...it was this age. I felt a sense of familiarity with the surroundings...no...more than familiarity...a
sort of ownership....i felt like the country boy would feel for the countryside around....the back of the hand sort of feeling.
I think the dream was built out of very old raw material fished from the depths of my memory. Because I was
on foot...i haven't often been on foot in IIM in recent years. I go there almost every week...pass it with flush awareness
as a detour from the polluted main road. But, here, I was on foot...as if I belonged there. If I try to imagine sitting alone,
quitely, trying to think serene, splendid thoughts on the edge of the main garden...i find it very difficult. I just can't
think of it. I don't feel like i'm allowed to. Yet, in the dream, I was doing it. I felt that leisure that I have always yearned
for. Protective security, free abandon... combined with the mental makeup of my current self. It's like trying to superimpose
two different timelines into one consciousness....and then observing what it looks like. Sadly, it isn't going to be.
Later in the dream...somebody driving a new car...not a swanky one, but a technical masterpiece, met me on
the road behind 316. Well...didn't exactly meet me...it took a sharp turn...and I (suddenly on a bicycle) swerved into the
main garden. I caught up with the car further down the road. It was Moron.(he had a black beard for some vague reason) We
sat down and discussed the car...and then he disappeared...and i went back to thinking splendid thoughts....thats when i woke
up...feeling very good...and dead scared...in a precognitive sort of way. I suddenly felt this urge to go to iim every evening...and
take a walk. Sit down at vague places and think splendid thoughts. It was 5..and too hot...so i vetoed the idea. When I did
take a ride down there later...again..not on foot....i noticed something that i never had. I noticed that other set of gardens...that
are next to the main one. And I suddenly felt a surging sense of alienness. I realised why...and almost in an instant... almost
reduced to tears. I had to give the accelerator a kick...and get out of there.
It's a complex feeling...stemming from a simple cause. Lost oppurtunity...i didn't miss daddy...it was a broader
perspective...i missed the social jungle....i missed an exploration.
And it hurts. Ouch.
====================================================
I actually took the walk in the campus when I last went to the bank. It happened to be overcast...and that
prompted the move. I noticed all the stuff above again....and then I passed the MDC building and a new memory came surging
back.
The only times I remember eating at MDC was when Lalji Singh had come and...when we were visiting Mummy's
friend. I don't recall the relationships. Mummy's old friend was visiting with her family. That was the first and last time had
apple pie, I remember. Her husband was attending a conference in MDC...and so she had come along with her daughter...Kunjan,
I think. Both of them had come home in the afternoon, I remember. One of the few social visits we had. Mummy and her friend
were sitting in the hall and chatting...and we kids soon got bored...and went up to play in the room upstairs. I was a Lego
fanatic then and thats what I took her to do. I remember very clearly, we spoke only in English...very reluctantly...and extremely
politely (ya, me....thats why I ask at the very beginning of this page...is this me?). Slowly we got naughtier and started
bothering the oldies downstairs. Anyway, that day passed with the Lego building and stuff.
The next day, Mummy took me to MDC where they were staying. They chatted for some time....and then she left.
Aunty had apparently asked Mummy to send my "drawing stuff" along....I don't even know if I had that sort of stuff. Anyway,
mummy got together some pencils and crayons and sketchpens and stuff and packed them in that ruddy old box we had and gave
it to me. So, when I was left to fend for myself, my new friend and I got together to do some 'art'. Obviously, this was her
forte...as Lego had been mine. And I was always hopeless at art i think. Anyway, I spent the afternoon being outdrawn by her.
There is one thing that I had noticed then...and found it of significance....I wonder how...I was only 7....but
that little observation has stuck in my memory. I had noticed....that on this second day....we spoke in Hindi...only. Gone
was the politeness of yesterday, the 'propah' English, and the formalism. It was a casual and Hindi. And, I noticed it...then.
Somehow.
This new environment was of their family. The first one....was my own. Because we didn't really have any sort
of 'family environment'. And...we hadn't met before....were strangers. After we had spent a day playing....I am amazed...and
I think..some part of me was amazed then too....that the language, the mood, everything changed.
I don't think she will remember this meeting at all. I'm assuming that. Because I think she would have met
a lot of people after that....while she was still small. And this little meeting would have faded away. For me, it has remained
fresh because of two reasons....one is that little thing i noticed....and the second is the lack of such social interactions
in the future.
My social circle has been primarily my own. The chaps from the locality, the chaps from school and stuff.
These were people I made friends with on my own. Parents of kids in my social circle never really knew my family. And
we never often met people that my family knew. Like this particular one. So, there were no social encounters. I hardly met
kids my age whose parents were Mummy's friends. These would have been the encounters that would have given me a social training.
And I think it is the lack of these meetings that left that social skill underdeveloped. More meetings with people like Kunjan
would have made me a different person. But, such meetings couldn't have been. Because the principal proponent of such meetings...dad...was
gone. Dad knew LOTS of people. I remember when he was there, somebody or the other dropped in EVERYDAY. After he left...there
was a very sudden vacum in our social lives. And once we moved out of IIM, it was even more empty.
I don't think I regret this. What this has done is given me a few, a very few, encounters...of which
I still have memory. And, I will always remember these, because there is so little competition. It has made me a
social wreck...but I don't think that is something i won't wiggle out of. I will learn, soon, and eventually....be as i would
have been anyway. And, I feel very happy that I remember that encounter after all these years...when I made this new
friend. If I ever meet her again....I'll enjoy shocking her with this detailed memory.
It'll be FUN. :-) :-) :-)
[5th April, 2003]
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