Wednesday, April 22, 2009

It must be spring..

This is a pretty time of year- you can see the signs and colors of spring in little things...

A few weeks ago pine tree and I wandered into Boom Babies on Westcott street - normally it has a ton of overpriced clothes (sort of hippy like, some vintage and some stuff from India) but on this day there was a buzz of something frenetic and distinctly eostregen-y about it. Indeed, prom is just around the corner and the store was crammed with sulky teenagers and harried/pushy moms looking over shimmery gowns. There was even a sign outside that warned 'boyfriends and men' (because boyfriends are boys, not men?) to stay away from the store- which was probably wise.

Pine tree and I wandered around enjoying the bling and the conversations...




This is from the farmers market which will soon move outside...tulips are now sprouting all over the ground..





And finally, this beautiful magnolia tree outside tulips house in full bloom...




The scent was heavenly...


I don't have a picture unfortunately of the wild, outdoor block parties that also accompany the onset of Spring (which leave the air redolent with other types of scents - equally natural, more potent if you *ahem* catch my drift) or the new fashion statements that seem to appear around this time of the year but I suppose that's just as well.

What signals the arrival of spring to you?

Monday, April 20, 2009

Worth Words

One of the first poems I ever knew was 'Daffodils' by William Wordsworth. If I concentrate hard, I'm sure I could still recite most of it. I probably learned it when I was 11 or 12 years old as it is a standard favorite in Indian schools. I even remember taking part in a poetry recitation/elocution contest in the 5th grade where I recited it. I came in second or third and got my first ever certificate for anything.

The funny thing is I had never actually seen a darned daffodil. In the tradition of many British references I grew up with (thanks to Enid Blyton and Wodehouse), there was no context to this poem in my real life.

So imagine my delight when a couple of days ago I was wandering around school reveling in the onset of Spring and suddenly came upon these beautiful yellow flowers.

Finally, almost two decades later-daffodils!



Here's the thing- I immediately knew that these were daffodils- solely from the description in the poem. Well done Wordsworth.



I wonder how many kids in India and around the world still learn this poem and wonder what the hell a daffodil looks like. Thanks to the internet, they may no longer have to wait!

Now, if only I could find out what kippers are...

Status update: feeling like a twit

Earlier today I deactivated my facebook account. In the cyberworld, this is a phenomenon called 'facebook suicide'. I committed it once before and then came back from the dead. Deactivating facebook (you cannot ever delete your account, creepily enough) is a strange ritual- first facebook aalyzes you- it asks you why you're doing it and depending on your reply, tries to offer suggestions for how you can stay. (For the record- I have no deep reason for doing it- I'm just sick of checking it but more on that later). So if for instance you pick 'I'm spending too much time on facebook', it offers you the option not to receive emails from it. Then it tries to go for your heart strings- I was told I'd be missed by Tulip, my sister, Machete and other close friends, with pictures from my albums of them. When I continued to do it steely eyed, facebook sadly told me that it hoped I would come back soon. And then I clicked the window and sat back and instantly felt a strange combination of weird and free. Weirdly Free.

It's not going to be easy - this little break. From my previous experience I know that I will feel like there is a whole world out there that is going on without me, even though the friends I'm most concerned about are the ones I see or speak too everyday. People will slowly notice I'm not on it and will ask if I'm ok, with genuine concern. And what's more, I'll understand why they're asking. I will feel a compulsion to share bits of my life like "read an amazing book" or "had a lazy saturday" and will have no avenue in which to do it (my break also entails no twitter, which will not be hard at all). I will feel like there are happenings, events and news that I'm missing out on...in other words, it will be like quitting anything addictive- not easy but potentially good.

When did it get like this? And what does it have to do with my resuming blogging (is this a nicotine patch to the facebook cigarette)?

Well, I've been thinking about how I use technology lately and much of it has centered around my poor, abandoned blog. When I wrote my little preemptive ditty last month, I scarcely anticipated this complete silence. I thought the frequency of my posts would go down a little but no blogging at all? Sadly a month later, my blog lies in cyberspace- sad, neglected, gathering dust...I look at it fleetingly and think about it guiltily before glancing away. I promise myself 'I'll blog about it' whenever something interesting comes up and yet, never get around to doing anything about it. Like old friendships and correspondence with distant relatives- intentions never translate into anything concrete.

But there's another reason for my prolonged silence apart from the busy-ness and laziness: A couple of weeks ago Margaret Atwood (whom I admire from what little I've read of her) said in the context of blogging and the advent of twitter ""It's like everyone's blogging about how they brushed their teeth this morning." I'd like to think my posts have been slightly deeper than that but the comment got me thinking. Maybe one reason I've been so unmotivated to write anything is because there is nothing truly compelling that I have to say? And so, isn't silence better?

That sounds depressing but I'm not. I just wonder if in this compulsion to constantly 'broadcast ourselves' (to borrow from youtube), what we have to say is becoming less and less meaningful? There is just so much of it, all the time and all written in pretty much the same blogese. You know what I mean-'snark', lists, open letter format, wtf stories, mock confessions that are designed to make you look cool even as you're professing to be a nerd... it's all quite formulaic and you've seen it all on this blog too. We are constantly inundated with people telling us about themselves- through you tube videos, blogs, status updates, profiles, tweets and it's slowly become part of the rhythm of our daily lives.

I've been pondering and questioning this constant need to communicate. Who are we all communicating to? For what purpose? What kind of narcissism is this? And is it really making us stupider, less sensitive and giving us the attention spans of goldfish? The answers to these questions, from my experience and what I've been reading, are not comforting.

And it all happened so quickly and subtly. A couple of years ago I had no idea where my casual acquaintances were once they left my immediate context. People faded out of my life -as they should in the normal course of events- one heard about them once in a while and that was that. Then came facebook - initially just an innocuous, fun way to stay in touch with people from school, check people out anonymously etc. Gradually it became part of my everyday routine- check email, read news, check facebook. And I'm not even a heavy user of it. It's own evolution meant that it became more and more difficult to escape what was happening in people's lives who you don't care about but are now just permanently there I find myself wondering 'what's X doing lately?' and look him/her up only to find that they went to a party, or watched a movie and hated it or bought groceries. I might not have seen X in 3 years and have no idea about how they're really, truly doing but I know when they buy groceries. It's relentless-the constant status updates, the newsfeeds, the emails with updates, the casual way that deep, life changing things get broadcast to the world 'X is no longer listed as in a relationship' or 'Y just had a baby'. A quick smiley face on their page and you're done. Now we have twitter, which takes the vacuousness to another level altogether-and ofcourse everyone, (including yours truly) is on it.

Am I making too big a deal of it? I'm sure I am but all I know is that I've felt a need to step back from the inanity of 'broadcasting myself'.

The good news (to me at least) is that while the rest of it I deem pretty dispensable, I realized the genuine, aesthetic pleasure I find in writing. Even a small, blog that 8 people read. Even when it's shoddy. Even when it's inane. Because it's 8 people I know and who know me and whose opinions I value. And it's really the only medium in all of this that has brought me pleasure. And so here I am, blogging away at 12 in the night- and it feels good!

And to facebook? I'm sure I'll come back to your seductive ways one day but not without a fight. Don't call me, I'll call you.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A song for you...

P.S. It is the middle of March and I have only posted thrice this month, the lowest since I began blogging. Normally you could safely chalk this down to my inherent laziness but this time I really have a reason.

Ahem...I am busy, my friends, and will only get busier from here on out...

(Sing this with me to the tune of 'raindrops on roses' from my fair lady Sound of Music (thanks Tulip) ):

There are things to be written,
And stuff for submission
Workshops to plan
Filing taxes to the 'man'
Workshops that scare every fiber of my being....
These are a few of my busiest things...

There are methods to master
Readings come faster and faster
Packing and moving
and much home-improving,
Coping with what the end of semester will bring...
These are a few of my busiest things!

When I'm laaaazy, feeling craaaazy or just a little relaxed...
Please simply remind me of my busiest things.... and then I won't feel sooo glad....

In other words I will finally live up to my identity as a graduate student and work like a dog!

So from now until mid June, I fear blogging will be infrequent, sporadic, of poor quality and frequently of a whiny nature. Bear with me my readers (yes all 8 of you) and I will make it up to you...

That song (I was singing it as I wrote) made me feel a lot better so I'm going to go to bed now- I'll keep the lights on but at least I will try to go to sleep...good night all!

Left out

On not quite so heavy a note, I've had this ironic (I think this is irony) thought over the last few days:

Who knew the death of capitalism would be such a bummer, man?

And in some epic twist of irony- guess who gets massively hit by it's demise? That's right, us idealistic, lefty grad students and academics who railed against it all along...

Some dark comedy there.

Ghost Buster: Ruminations on academics, the recession and other scary things

Why am I blogging at 1:00 am? Let me tell you why.

Just came back from a late night coffee with Chanbong and K aka Kultur-Vulture (a very appropriate name, I think). Given that we are three grad students who were drinking nothing stronger than black tea (on St. Patricks day no less)- I think it is highly commendable that we a) managed to stay out significantly late b) got drunk undergrad boys to spontaneously and only half-ironically dance/gyrate for us on the street (attesting to the the power of blasting Britney Spears' Circus) and c) combined the above activities with a meandering chat about literature, East Asian pop culture and Milan Kundera.

As we were heading back and I was innocently seat-dancing to Rihanna (yes it was an unabashedly pop kind of night) K happened to bring up the fact that he has seen two ghosts in his life- one while driving with his brother and the second in his apartment complex. Actually, be brought this up because we saw a white plastic bag drifting along the street in the darkness (in a decidedly non-American Beautyish way) and I remarked how freaky it looked. This prompted K to tell the story, backed up by some impressively visible goose bumps. Anyone that knows me knows that I do not react well to ghost stories while simultaneously being fascinated by them - particularly in the night. As usual, I was terrified and curious and now here I am unable to sleep, starting at every passing noise with all the lights in the house blazing.

So what turns out to be my distinct loss (sleep), turns into the blog's gain (posting at long last)...

In the spirit (no pun intended) of the night, I shall reflect on some truly scary things - like the recession, academia and how the link between the two is really, truly frightening.

Is it just me or was this spring break not like other spring breaks? Granted that in Syracuse the term 'Spring Break' always seems cruelly inappropriate when you're wading through inches of snow and fighting arctic winds. But this time a combination of factors made this the least spring breaky-spring break yet.

It was not meant to be this way. At the start of the week I had visions of multiple long and rambling posts on the blog, slow cooked meals which I could savor and put away for later, catching up on a few good films and reading at least a few great books. Hanging out with friends and sleeping in also ranked high on the agenda. As my previous post said it was all wonderful to start with but now that it's all over, I'm confronted with the realization that I cooked one dish only, hung out with friends only on the first day of the break, watched one bad movie and read one good book. I spent 4 days in school in my usual bay, staring at the computer screen.

But there was a particular sense of blah that pervaded this break. And I'm pretty sure a lot of it had to do with the recession.

Yes it has been around for a while (and the signs are all around us) but it's only in the last few weeks that I've realized how utterly and completely screwed we are. From conversations with faculty who grimace at the words 'job market' and shrug apologetically as they admit they will NEVER retire, to the nyt article that had us all reaching for a stiff drink/xanax - it's clear that not only are things going to be miserable generally, they're going to be particularly bad for those in the early stages of academic careers and fabulously horrible for those in the final years of our PhDs. Guess where I am?

My friends, it is time to worry when the advice of faculty that previously told you to 'get out of grad school fast' becomes 'stall as long as you can' and when they won't even cheer you up with such platitudes as 'you'll be fine'. Another sign of the times is the particular new inflections and tropes in the perennial 'why did I choose this' conversation that most grad students have had (with each other or with themselves). Previously the conversation went something like this:

Grad Student 1: " I'm stressed and poor and mildly sick... and I'm never going to finish this dissertation and my friends all have jobs and houses and kids. Why did I choose this again?"

Grad Student 2: "I know! It's so hard to get a good academic job- I don't want to be stuck teaching at some crappy college. I should have just stayed in (insert much better paying, private sector job that was deemed unsatisfying and soul killing). If only I had (insert road not taken)"

Grad Student 3: "Yeah, I totally understand. What was I thinking? But now it's too late to do anything else. I'm not even sure I can do anything else. But god, I'm poor and stressed and I'll never finish this dissertation...."

(and so it goes....until)

Grad Student 4: "Yes, it's really hard and maybe we're crazy but think about it- would you really be happy doing something else? Isn't this what you wanted to do?"

Grad Student 1: "Sigh...yes, you're right. I would go crazy sitting in meetings all day."

Grad Student 2: "Yes, that's true. And I do love teaching sometimes"

Grad Student 3: "No, I really do hate this. I'm leaving/ I want out. Bye"

You get the picture. We've all had this conversation at one time or the other- and if you're lucky, you're student no. 4 and you really love teaching or you love your work and despite all the uncertainty and stresses of academia- you really never feel as alive and happy as when you're in it.

But now the conversation has changed- sure, there's no longer too many friends to compare ourselves to. Everyone is vulnerable or constrained in this atmosphere. But now there is little room for debate and ambiguity,now the conversation goes:

Grad Student 1: "God this is so BAD. We're soo screwed - no one is going to retire, no one is hiring, no one has money, there are no postdocs, no jobs....just no no no"

Grad Student 2" " Of all the rotten luck in the world! I'll do anything - heck i'd be happy to teach 4 courses in some crappy college in the middle of no where. What's going to happen to us? "

Grad Student 3: "No idea. We've got to stall"

Grad Student 2: "For how long? And on what? And for what, in the end?"

Grad Student 4: "Yes, it's really hard and maybe we're crazy but think about it- would you really be happy doing something else? Isn't this what you wanted to do?" (Voice weakly peters out...)

Deafening silence and sighs...

But it's not all bad. Let me say how much I enjoyed chatting with Chanbong and K (up until the ghost stories). There was a moment when we were sitting in the little bubble tea place and K was talking animatedly about why the Chinese are so enamored with Foucault that I thought... 'This is why I love my friends.' I'm heartened by such chats and such friends in a world and a mileu where reading and being literate in the broad sense of the term is seen as a waste of time.

So it got me thinking yet again- can one be truly literate without a vast canvas and array of interests? Or am I being naive and unfocused, to my detriment? So many successful people in academia are remarkably disciplined about how they use not just their time but also their brain space- they hardly extend themselves outside their area of research and their work. And this is the model prescribed to grad students too. On the other hand, so many of the people I admire in public life are conversant and engaged with things beyond what they do. They're interested in the human condition as it is manifested in different things- art, music, books, people, activism. I wonder often if this is a luxury you have to 'earn'- maybe after tenure or when you've done the hard slog. If so, are people like me just fundamentally misfits in the structure and rewards system of (American) academia? It's a question I've thought about often and one that I am beginning to hear more and more in the way my friends question the norms of graduate school and academic life. In the past few weeks I've heard more and more the following types of questions : Is it worth it to constantly feel stressed and competitive? Why is that the normative reasons that drive many of us to come to graduate school get taken over so quickly with the drive to succeed, compete and 'produce'? Why are those things defined the way they are? Is it worth it to not do the things you love- whether it is yoga or spending time with family or writing- in order to achieve some abstract and increasingly more uncertain reward in the future? How can we meaningfully live within these dominant norms and still be fulfilled in some deeper sense? Is asking these questions itself pointless?

I'm not sure I know how I feel about these questions. I think the balance between who you are with who you want to be is a tough one to reconcile and manage but I'm trying to internalize the value in trying not to be someone I can't be. Confused? So am I.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Day Off

I watched this.
Verdict - Luscious, visually stunning but ultimately just ok. Netflix it.

I read this
Verdict- excellent, read it.

I contemplated this and this
Verdict- Gloomy. #*@! it.

I ate this and this
Verdict- delicious, cook and eat it.

I cheered this
Verdict- Brilliant. Sachin is IT.

I blogged this.
Verdict- lazy but efficient. Skip it?

So, spring break is here so copious blogging is coming your way but today, this about sums it up. All in all:

Work done = 0
Pleasure Had = Immense (except for that little recession, never-getting- a-job thing.)