Tatako and Ishiguro

Again first published on December 26, 2017--Here it is again, these two posts should go hand in hand, Ishiguro and Tatako, will always remind me of two different sides of Japan, the Spiritual (meditative) and the stoic!

None of these pictures have any connection to the story here. They are just being used so that I have some happy and some not-depressing (neutral) pictures to this strange story of identity crisis and home-sickness. Most of these pictures were taken in 2009, first visit to Japan. 

Train to Kamakura, 2009

Buddha at Kamakura, Japan, 2009

Young women in Kimono

For my research and data collection, during my Phd, I had returned to the city I had lived in, only two years before.  Washington DC.

At the library of congress where the research process itself was something to marvel, I remember staring in awe as microfiche that I requested was brought up by a cable.  The process was that --you fill out a form --usually based on research from Lexus-Nexus, the data base for news articles, and then send it through a tube.  Upon arrival in the basement, some person/staff would locate the document you asked for and send it through a lift, a cable.  Actually the entire process is blurry now, but I do remember being fascinated by it.

So, in the middle of that hectic, energy consuming work, I would take a break and just look out the window, wondering about things that bothered me then and have continued since then.

Who I was, what was I doing, why was I doing this research, what would it accomplish, did I really  care about the topic and issues or was it a way to finish something I had started, just to show perseverance but I truly was not interested in anything.

I had a semi-science background but I had acknowledged that I was a story teller, I thought in images and visuals, my mind kept dropping me characters and sentences and dialogues and words ---that came with their own personality and told me that I was to be their caretaker and gardener.  That I was to place them in the right place and in right order.

While I wrote for as long as I can remember (I wrote a short play when I was eight, and then directed it... will write about it later)---I started writing on a regular basis in my teens, when I also started keeping a daily journal.  From then till mid-twenties, I wrote a page or two --sometimes more every day.  Today I have a whole shelf filled of many hand written journals, in many shapes and colours.  The most common ones are the 'mead' notebooks from the US.  

With my move to the US, handwriting shifted to word-processing.  I started putting down things onto a computer.  From there, though I could write and store much, but I also became fragmented.  Thanks to this blog, I put together some memories and put them out, for the sake to having them in one place.

But the fragmentation which started with regular and increasing use of computers, combined with world-travel and possibly an identity loss, often makes me feel numb.

As strange as it sounds, numbness, has its own unique pain.

And so, this story of a Japanese woman I met years ago at the library of Congress and the recent talk by Ishiguro made me look nostalgically on a time, that was utterly painful, in real 'pain' sense of the word.

I actually felt the pain, tears would flow down at the drop of a hat, I would often write in my journal 'my heart was dangling over my abdomen'.  A way of explaining a 'drowning' feeling.

It was during that time, when I had to be in DC for research that I happened to sit next to Tatako.  I remember her name. Very clearly. I had thought of writing to her for the longest time. We had exchanged addresses and emails.  But I never did write.  

She was a middle aged Japanese woman married to an American man.  Loneliness and isolation emanated from her aura.  Shrunken even more than her slight frame.  It would be more appropriate to say, 'loneliness and isolation was where her aura receded', for there was nothing that 'emanated.'  That feeling was so strong, that one felt sucked into that vortex.

Since, I was myself in that space, somewhat, I was not in any danger in being around her.

But, just being around her made me realize what had become a modern state for many of us.  

Displaced, dislocated, and disoriented.

We did not know who we were, and simply stuck in inertia of not being able to do anything, even though time and things around us were in constant motion.  And those like me were in perpetual motion, meaning a physical move from one place to another. 

Tatako had married an American and had no children.  When she sat next to me, we started talking to each other, as if in a trance, of the directionless-ness of our lives.  Maybe both of us missing a sense of familiarity of expressions and emotions!  We did not recognize ourselves in the way world and life represented itself around us. 

We dare not express, for the fear of being misunderstood and misrepresented by our out of place feelings.  

And we shut out the joys of a childhood that was rich and colorful, for none of that was reflected in our world.

I felt her pain, as she slowly talked about the silence at home. It reminded me of my landlady from when I lived in the city. She was from south America and had married a divorcee with a child, who did not want any more children, while she desperately desired children.  When I met her, she was taking a break from her husband and trying to sort herself out, trying to connect with her childhood friends and even sweethearts, to find a lost piece of herself. 

I took Tatako’s address but did not know what to say to her. A few months later, I moved to another state and became even more lost than before.  Her name is written in one of my old diaries, that I have been meaning to discard for a while.  I had torn the page that had her name and saved it, but thrown the diary away this past summer, so that I may clear some space.  May be now that I have immortalized her memories and feelings and non-existence in a foreign culture, I can get rid of that page.

But writing about Ishiguro and listening to him talk about a Japan that he wanted to 'capture before it faded away', made me realize how much I have wanted to do that. Capture my India.

I had a magical childhood. Yes, not without problems and issues, but magical childhood.  So much so that the problems remain in the background and manifest here and there in fear, but it is the memories of that beautiful childhood and the character of strength that learnt from those around me that has helped me live with the integrity that I have lived with.

When Ishiguro talked about memory, I thought about Tatako.  Would she be upset, if she had no memory of a ‘richer, fuller’ time in Japan?

Tatako, in her very simple English, had talked about the lack of movement--a stillness that had become stale-- in her life in the US.  Stillness instead of deepening, had started a stench of fear.  She looked calm from the outside but was unquiet on the inside.  But it was the stoicism of Japan that allowed her to function as a normal human being, or at least no more bruised than we all are. (the blue part has been added this time, upon reflection on it). 

At the time, I was also reading ‘The road less travelled.’  And what I clearly remember from that book is this one incident, where the author says that the ‘Japanese brides that accompanied US soldiers after WWII back to the US had great marriage for several years and even decades.  But as they started to learn better English and could express themselves, the marriages started to break. Because now they had expression and could express, their discontent or disagreement.’

Would being inarticulate then be a blessing?  Not being able to name a feeling.  Just name it dullness for a while and hope for it to move and shift?

Something, I hope to consider more and think about…..as I continue on this journey to write and share.

Ishiguro: The Nobel Man

First Published on December 24, 2017---here it is again, as we are just done with awarding the NOBEL PRIZE. I am still amazed that I live in this country, that awards one of the most prestigious awards of our planet!!

Kazuo Ishiguro:  Giving his Nobel Prize Speech

I took this picture with my phone. Please notice the (click to enlarge) the fine bubbles rising up in the glass. It was those bubbles that had any movement in this shot at the moment I took it, and so, a silent moment with only the bubbles talking and climbing up, captured. 

What? It was a Japanese who wrote the novel that this movie is based on?  I had said in surprise after watching 'The Remains of the Day.' 

Still have not read the book, but the movie made such an impact.  Three scenes that I remember poignantly are, the aged butler serving his masters with such precision that he dare not remove a drop of sweat from his nose, and another one, where the butler assures the character played by Emma Thompson, after she states that she is afraid of leaving the manor because she sees only loneliness out in the world, 'We care for you very much.'  It was poignant because he is not the man to express emotions, and even in this case, while he should have jumped and hugged her, he just assures her, as if a board member telling a staff member, 'we care' but all the staff hears is 'we care, because we need you.'.  While in that scene both the Butler and the woman know that there is a deep connection, neither is allowed, due to the rigid times, environment and culture that they are a part of, to express freely.

 The last one is the last scene of the movie, almost wordless, where finally the butler shows some light through his cracked shell that he wears all the time.  Through his eyes a and concerns the eyes drip, almost without his permission, he shows 'some emotion' at seeing the woman he has loved for a while, but never has felt that he has the right to love.

A Japanese wrote that book. Yeah, but this one is no ordinary Japanese, he grew up in England. But still.  That is what writers do. They slip into situations, imagine and allow us to feel what others feel. And make us a bit more human. 

I have never read his work and wish to now, but that movie, that I saw more than two decades ago, is still fresh in my mind.

So when it was announced that he got a Nobel prize, my two responses were, Happy for him, and I must read his books.

Nobel Prize Committee announcing Ishiguro's win!

Nobel price winners 2019 

In June of 2016 I was in Japan the second time and decided to read a Japanese author, as I travelled through a country that I admire.  I chose Murakami.  Norwegian Woods!  It was much publicised, the movie came out a few years ago, and I heard that Murakami waited a while before giving rights for the movie.

From the get go, I had a sinking feeling when reading that book.  It was about mental health, and yet, there was very little humanity that I felt in the characters.  They were self-absorbed, possibly due to mental illness, but even the sane ones were.  Parents of the children who had mental illness were far in the background. There was in my opinion, much weirdness in the stories of these people.  All through that trip, while I did get involved in the book and wanted to know what happened to the characters, I also felt a sense of gloom.  Even though I was in a country that understood very well the intersection of humanity and divinity.  While people laugh and put down Japan and Japanese values as too rigid and ignoring the self, I think what they do not realize is that---all of that is Japan's way of making human life as close to perfection as possible. Yes, people break, but things like honor, commitment and valour, that make the world worthy to live in and fight for, are definitely something to live upto.  And then there is a value of balance.

That balance and self-restriction or discipline was missing in Murakami's book.  I kept thinking of Ishiguro and saying to myself that I have to read him to balance this.

A friend said, that Murakami was just responding to the Japanese repression. I disagree.  Murakami is very clear about western influences on his writing. And I do not consider Japanese culture as 'repression' as the outsiders talk about it.  It is one of self-respect, and grit.  Dying was nobler than living in shame.  

There is a saying we have in hindi that comes from RamCharitramanas (Ramayana as it is called colloquially)--प्राण जाये पर वचन न जाई--'Praan Jayi Par Vachan Na Jayi' --I will die before I go back on my word!  As I tell my students, giving word was like a certificate of honesty.  Like shaking hands in the west.  Long before we created documents and signature as proof. 

And writers bring that character to life.  I had so enjoyed Remains of the Day.  The movie and a few scenes had stayed with me for a long time. 

Pico Iyer, a noted travel writer, who has lived-in Japan for many years had this to say about the choice of Nobel Committee (click to enlarge). 

So, when I was working in my office late that day, trying to finish some grading, and a link got forwarded to me about Ishiguro's speech, I logged on.  As I continued to grade, I kept stopping to listen to him.  And then in the middle of it all, I realized that I had to record this for myself.  So, I recorded it on my phone.  I have listened to it many times since.  Even though it was recorded mid-way and has many of whisperings as I make notes on the papers that I am grading, rustling of the sheets as I am assembling my work.

The recording feels like I have woven Ishiguro's voice with my own life and poetry.  

I would like to provide that link at some point, but for now, I will provide the link to the entire speech at Nobel, so you all can listen. And here is the Nobel lecture that I am talking about.   I am just in awe of the fact that I am in the country that awards these prizes and that I can actually understand some of Swedish that they speak.  Grateful!!

PS:  This is 300th post in eight years since the blog was started. I wanted to mark it!!  This blog despite my emotional ups and downs has been maintained at 15-30  minute marks of writing.  Like teaching, it remains my salvation.  There must be almost two books in here.

PS: Edit, update: There are close to 368 posts on the blog.  As always have about 120 drafts, --and I hope to work on at least some of them this year!!

Which makes me think again of what people have told me for the last two and a half decade, (and recently a very dear friend/student told me....that I should write.  If any of what I write touches your heart and makes you think, I am grateful to Ma Saraswati (Goddess of Knowledge and Speech)--who flows through me, does not let me rest until I write it all down. I bow to her and hope that she will guide me in my future projects.

Leave a note, if you wish, but I know you all are there.  A few loyal ones.

PS: I did not know where to place this but wanted to share regardless, so here is a related story, as I was editing this post, and this time added a few more words and perspectives (I use reposting as a way to edit and add and embellish what i have already written)--I tried to see how Google translate with translate this deep meaningful phrase like प्राण जाये पर वचन न जाई----I will die before I go back on my word!  --And guess what did google translate provide?  'Go die!!' ah, technology, technology, technology, remember technology is helpful, but the user has to use his/her own brain!! Technology has no brain of itself....shhhh...our little secret, don't let the computers hear.....

Hope to hear from you all!!

Books or Movies?

Sake containers at a Shrine in Tokyo

Another post only for the link.  Are the books better than the movies? Can we make movies as good as books?  Should books adapt the movies completely? 

https://swarajyamag.com/culture/when-we-cant-say-which-is-better-the-movie-or-the-book

Enjoy, as I use this space to book mark the article and read it later. 

“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?” 

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

“He suddenly recalled from Plato's Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God split then in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.” 

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

“A person who longs to leave the place where he lives is an unhappy person.” 
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

“The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful ... Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.” 

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

“There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, "sketch" is not quite a word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture.” 
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

“Chance and chance alone has a message for us. Everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out, is mute. Only chance can speak to us.” 
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

An Unusual Answer!

First Published on December 27, 2014, I am republishing this--continuing with the double theme of may students, teaching and Japan.

And update about the this precious student, this past summer, 2017, he graduated in flying from an MA from our department!!

The picture was taken in Hiroshima,  Japan, 2009, in a museum dedicated to those affected by the atomic bombing, which if we think deeply enough….is the entire world!

I ran into him around Swedish election results.  He was a bit hassled because Sverige Demokrtana had won more votes than ever before.  For those who do not know, Sverige Demokrtana is, however mild, the anti-immgration party of Sweden.  I am always amazed at how many Swedes are afraid whenever it gains a few votes.  That shows how Swedes love their respect for freedom and how deeply ingrained the value of equality is in the culture.  Things are changing and will change-- as is inevitable--because things have always been in transition and changing.  But Sweden has taken the best of what religions claim 'kindness, respect for humanity, a balance of work and rest' and incorporated into its culture--without the rigidity of religion. 

So, to see C's face a bit upset about the rise of Swedish Democrats power in the parliament was not unusual.  I am used to that expression.  After we talked briefly, we set up a time to meet to sit and chat, and catch up.

He was my student, over three years ago.  A quiet thoughtful young man.  I did not see him for nearly two years and then this year we ran into each other and started talking about life.  My schedule is crazy, so I hardly spend time with students outside of the class, but am deeply aware that I do want to spend time with my students to learn from them.  I keep thinking my life is in transition, so I should take the best of what I have.  One of the best things I have are my students.  And I have met some special ones in Sweden. 

So, despite the crazy schedule, I make time for a half hour chat, or a coffee with some of my students.  

So we met at Glantan, a small cafe in the student hall, for a cup of tea.  We talked about live and dreams and hopes and aspirations.  Among other things I remember him telling me was that he collects rainwater, because his mom taught him that.  That way you make the best of natural resources.  The rain water may not be used for drinking but can be used to water plants and do other chores.  I marveled at this simple and sustainable technique.   Now that is religion, taking care of nature, being a bit extra thoughtful in how to use the resources.  I knew an American woman in Fiji, who had lived in Tonga for over three decades who did the same.  

During our conversation, I asked C, so what are you passionate about, what do you want to do with your life.  He stayed silent for a bit, shook his head, covered his face  with his hand, removed his hand, ran his fingers through his hair--all of the took less than ten seconds, and then he gave me an answer, which I wish to live my life by….

"I want to learn in a way to be the best I can be, as a human being and take that and apply to wherever I go…"

Such wisdom!!

What more could we ask for--I know he's fine, he will be fine no matter what he chooses to do, but more than that, that we are grateful to have such young people around who inspire us to be --the best that we can be----

Appreciating Home After Visiting the World

The Above Picture was taken Back in Sweden.  I had seen these flowers for a while, but  I noticed them after I had seen them in Japan. See here

Jacqueranda, San Francisco, Palo Alto, 2007

How many times do we wish we could be some where else? The focus on travel these days is amazing. Every one talks about it.  They use Facebook as  their personal photo album and discuss travel as some sort of feat.  In my experience, I do not find the well travelled less biased or more interesting or kinder or more reliable.   They are just that 'more travelled'.  I have had deep conversations with people who never left the town they grew up in. These people have brought me wisdom of their cultures and made me seen the world from their perspective. 

Is it a reflection of who I am then? Possibly. 

I seek a certain kind of conversation and I am able to engage in it. Also, being on my own helps. Meaning, I do have family but they are scattered. I do have friends, but there is no one checking or in touch regularly, that is sad, but also allows a freedom.  That freedom has been translated into these meaningful conversations.  And I have made friends from unlikely quarters. I have friends from all age groups and many nationalities and religions. 

However, even I have not been exempt from taking my own surroundings for granted.

For example, while Frangipanis grow in India, and even in Delhi, I really did not notice them until I went to Fiji.

The same with flowers like the bird of paradise.  I remember staring at them in Fiji, the first time I saw them there, as if that was the first time I had seen them.  But I had seen them before, or had been around them before.  But not until I was in an unfamiliar territory, did I notice them.

Then, I noticed them everywhere. Especially, when the year after I travelled through Europe, I saw them in major hotel lobbies, wondering how much money they were paying for having these flowers transported.

Similarly, the flower above, I did not pay attention to until in Japan.  Only to see them in my neighbourhood, in Sweden.

What am I trying to say, that when we travel, our senses and lenses of perception sort of become clear and unbiased, only because we are in unfamiliar territory, and are obligated to notice things.

It could be the other way around as well, you know that we are too caught up in something and do not notice anything. For example, in business trips or conferences, which happens. Or for someone like me who travels a lot. But, in reality, I pay more attention. Simply because I know the limits of work, I know there are a certain hours and in others I relax.

I also keep a day or two after the conference to just unwind.  

But the truth is that I notice. Or I would not be a writer. I have always noticed flowers and trees and the color of the sky etc.

But even I, have been a prey to 'being blind to our surroundings' many times. Such that I needed to leave a place to notice something. Even Jacqueranda, which grows in India, but I first noticed in Botswana, and then when I was in San Francisco, I just pointed at it right away!!

So, I guess, travel is good for that reason, (just as it is good for us to expose ourselves to new situations)--to put us into the unfamiliar, so that we might sharpen our own perceptions, we might notice the things we ignored, we might allow more into our own sphere of recognition. We might improve as people.

But, most of the times that does not happen with travellers. For every traveller is not born with 'gene' to learn and grow.

Some travellers might know about about plants and trees, but might not want to incorporate new ideas, not want to question their own ways of thinking, and not want to interact with those who think differently from them.

In my experience, with distance and understanding the world, I have loved India more and more. With all the questions I have of the US and in someways I find it socially reprehensible, I have respected its simplicity, and a desire to reinvent itself.  While I had questioned the intellectual desert in Fiji, I miss its understanding of itself through music, meke, kava, and sunshine.  Fiji's life philosophy lived in those aspects of daily lived experience--along with a hearty laughter.

Yes, I can say that because I have considered all these countries home--for several years.

Often times, it is important for us to leave home, to realize how much wealth, and knowledge is to be found the place where we are bound by our bodies and responsibilities and connections. 

And that leaving home does not need to leave country or even town, that could be simply going for a long walk on a street that we have not walked through, in meditation, when not a single thought touches us, but we are absorbed in noticing everything around us. 

Try it, and come back and see every wall, every shelf in your own place with a new eye.  Every spoon and every fork then becomes an aid, every shelf a support, and each book a connection to the beyond, as we look at carnations standing ,in a glass vase, that were grown three states away!!

  

A Girl Smiling

Picture of a young receptionist in Japan. 

She just responded when I pointed my camera towards her, 2016

I know, I know, I owe some serious updates.  All I can say is that writing is going crazily well. I have actually written about 7 articles for various newspapers and a few academic articles in between, but there is much else to be written that I share only here, for a special few who read this site and know me personally.

But until I get to that one, which will happen soon, I thought of sharing this...
It says, 'Hey girls, smile like this someday, Pout can wait. #SubahSavere' and Ah so true...that pout is silly, and quite artificial....I must say.  It is the carefree smiles that we all fall for.....Hope you all enjoy this little one's right from the heart smile...(PS: subah-a persian word means Early Morning. Savere --a hindi word means early morning. This picture must have been taken early morning, when the girl was accompanying women from her family to the fields. And the comment, I guess, from the twitter handle, is from a 'man'!! sweet!!

https://twitter.com/bhaiyyajispeaks/status/858167337387675648

Almost Two Months of Absence

I apologise to the readers for not writing for such a long time.  But as you can see from the entries that the last year this has been the trend. 

Its been a crazy year. I had to take sick leave, as concentration etc. had become really hard. I have had that issue for several years.  Even when I was working on my doctorate.  But being strong I pulled through it all, but life does become difficult when you have to constantly be in a situation where you have to constantly make decisions and be always in a learning environment.  If it is not learning about a new country, then it is about learning about new forms of library and information storage as every university is different, finding out where to shop, how to make international calls.  Only since the last 8-9 years when I transferred all my calls to Skype, even calling landlines, since I add money to my Skype account, has it been a bit better.  Then there is the banking system, or the local and interstate and international travel system?

Meiji Shrine, Tokyo

Always being in that mode takes away energy from my career and other personal decisions, and so there was a break down.

Regardless, I wrote papers during this time.  I had a meditation/Peace Revolution conference in Budapest in April, then again in late April a one day workshop in south of Sweden, and then in May I started writing a completely new paper on India studies.  I had never done this before but I am really interested in these civilisational issues.  Especially seeing the damage that western way of thinking and Abrahamic religions that not only borrowed so much from the pagans but cut off from nature, have wrought on the world.  This conference allowed me to write a few things that will help me go into that direction.  It is a dangerous route, but I know that it seems like my svadharma--(action, choice of profession or a path according to our natural inclination).

Tourists at Meiji Shrine, Tokyo

I finished the paper after 3 weeks of sleepless nights, on June 3rd when I had planned to meet a friend for dinner.  I finished around 2:30 pm and thought since I am meeting the friend at 5:30 I will get an hour or two of nap.  But got a call from the university to take care of some material.  I changed rode my bike to school, needed to come back to get some documents, fixed all that and it was 4:50 pm already by that time, I parked my bike at the university and went to town.  On 4th and 5th of June, I had to clean and organise the house, leave my plants to a neighbours to get watered, ask some other housekeeping to be taken care of, oh yes, as always pay the bills, and the most important and difficult and time consuming task, PACK....well enough to have all kinds of shoes, and clothes that allowed freedom after work was over. 

I left for a conference in Japan on very early morning of the 6th of June.  I did not sleep the night before--had to fix my bags, make sure all the presentations were intact and all the print outs of the bachelors essays that I was grading were there.

I did not even register that I was going to Japan, a country I love so much.  On the plane, I fell sick, threw up and slept most of the 9 hrs of first leg of the flight.  

When I finally landed in Japan, there was something that made me smile and say, 'Konichua to Japan---will write about that later.'

This was my second time to Japan, and even then I had hardly researched. I was staying in the country 5 days after the conference but had not planned a single day.

My first paper was in Tokyo.  I arrived around midnight, woke up early brushed up my presentation and presented, back to the hotel and off to Fukuoka via the bullet train, for which I bought the ticket after I got there.  

First day in Fukuoka, I actually spent in town.---having a simple vegetarian meal while finalising my comments on the essays.

That evening I had two bachelor's essay defense via Skype.  Went to bed quite late, and I had an early presentation.  During the conference which lasted nearly a week I had four presentations, three meetings, and two essays to comment on, both before and after defense. 

So even in the five days of vacation, I was actually responding to students, what they should improve in their thesis etc.

I never really got over jet lag in the 14 days (including travel and stay).  I returned and had to attend a one day conference the day after.  By the time I realised how much work I needed to do, I was sad and depressed and one point crying.  

I had to leave on the 3rd again to attend a conference in India starting on the 6th.  The last time I slept in the bed was the first of July.  On the second, I went to do the last minute shopping, which always reminds me that I come the last.  Because I truly needed a bag that I had been eyeing a bag that I need, but I went too late that day and the shop had closed.  I just bought a few sweets and other goodies to take as gifts (which I am trying to reduce now, just going shopping has become stressful) --and returned.

I did not sleep on the 2nd night, and got about 2 hrs sleep, and left on the early morning of the 3rd.  Arrived in India on the 4th evening, and left on the 5th morning for the conference in the south of India, that is about 3 hrs flight from my home city.  But the night of the 4th I was working on the presentation for the conference which was due that night.  Arriving late on the 5th on one of the most beautiful campuses I have ever seen, IIT Madras (Indian Institute of Technology at Madras).  At any odd moment a herd of deers would just stop by around us, as if it were nothing unusual to them to have people, vehicles and laughter around them. 

Deer at IITM: Picture Courtesy of IITM Website

My presentation was on the middle day and so I stayed up the night before, finishing a 5 minute video that accompanied the presentation.  I went to bed at 4 am.  And the last day of the conference, we were all so excited about the topic of the  conference that we all stayed up till 4 am again just chatting about the 'nature of reality and many other topics surrounding Indic civilisation and thought.'

The day after my mom arrived, and I took her on a two day travel of Puducherry, Kanchipooram, and Chennai. 

Returned only 1.5 days ago and am back to work.  Meaning serious work, reading and writing --things that need to be done.  Still have to deal with the heat.  But I kept thinking I must document how hectic it is all for me, and how exhausting it can be, and what tolls it takes.  And for that reason I have stopped writing or calling or doing many creative things.  But I do remind myself to be grateful.  For travel is exciting on the outside it is quite draining otherwise.  But what it does do, it you have the energy to learn, is to see, that the world is beautiful as it is.  The more I think about it, karma, reincarnation make more sense.  There is so much out of our control and to simply to say, 'God Has a Plan' does not work for me. I think we ourselves had had that plan and in some ways we wrote our own histories but we are bound by our 'sanskars' which are embedded tendencies from many lifetimes and affect our decision making.  We make good, bad, wrong right decisions because how our karma direct our thinking.  And yet, karma is not fatalistic, once we are aware, we can make changes.  And yet, some things are hard to change. 

I am in the process of analysing how much do I change, what can I change and in what direction shall I move the rest of my life.  IN many ways I am grateful, in many ways holding my breath, for my life to start!!