I need my desk

Since, as long as I can remeber, I have had a desk. First, it was red plastic table with a matching red chair. Then as I grew out of that, it was an ironing board which doubled up as my table. Finally I got a wooden table with a wooden chair. For the past 10 years, that was my (0,0,0,x) position for x>=16 hours a day. I imagined, I learned and I slaved at that place. I used to complain about the little imperfections that made up my desk. The sharp edge sometimes scratched my hand; the lack of a drawer annoyed me. Furthermore, I sometimes detested the outmoded styling of it. It looks like something out a 60's movie.However, no matter how much I complain, that is my ground zero. That was my place.

Now that I am in a place far away from home, away from my desk, I realize the void it has left. I miss the stack of books I kept on the left and my little wooden pen stand which had drawings of tigers and other animals of Corbett National Park. I miss the etchings I made when I felt like my world was collapsing.

These days I do have a desk at work but I don't think I'll ever feel that connection with it. I miss my desk because despite it's imperfections it was perfect for me.

Escape

I don't know where this is headed. This world, this life, and this girl. At this point, where nothing is wrong, yet everything somehow feels terribly wrong, I am just grappling for some sanity. At the end of the day, we are all alone. Loneliness is a part of existing. I don't fear or fight it. However, I do feel there must be a break from it. A real break, and not just a temporary fix of surrounding oneself with people. It is not even a fix and more of an exacerbation of the issue because then one realizes that one has become more lonely. How do you find the escape? Is there an escape from all this?






If you are reading this, I'd like to apologize to you. For some time now, I have not been able to form a coherent thought. I've been writing these chaotic "diary entries" of sort and I don't know why. I guess they are my release. If they leave you feeling equally perturbed, I suggest you ignore them or write your own. 

I am sorry once again.


Do share your thoughts with me. Thanks. 
 

Loneliness

I'm a loner. Yes, I am. I don't hate people but I feel the need to be alone after too much company. However, for the past few weeks I feel this deep sense of loneliness that I find undescribable. I'm surrounded by people around the clock, but I know they are not "my people". They are just people. I know that they have their own world filled with complexities but just this lack of any support is a haunting sensation.

Desperately trying to grasp some support but afraid of asking too much or asking the wrong person. Doesn't help that I'm an introverted reserved asocial book nerd.

First Step into Adulthood

Adulthood, the state when one is fully grown and mature. Some reach it faster than others and some never at all. I am beginning my journey into adulthood this week. Freshly out of college, I embark on this trip where I don't know what the final destination is but I do hope the journey will be worth it.

I am a person who has never been really away from home for more than a day or two. I don't know what it is like to exist by oneself far away from one's family. I usually consider myself an independent person, but now I realize what true independence actually is. It comes with a lot of responsibilities. This past week I was out shopping and for the first time, it hit me how much stuff a person needs just to exist. From combs to shoes, from utensils to damn clips for clothes, it is a massive pile of crap. Useful crap. Shopping is not really something I enjoy and I always put it on my beloved family to shop for me, but that isn't going to be possible anymore.

These are small things. Big things like having no one on your side in a completely different city with a completely different culture are much more difficult to tackle. They don't hit you all at once, the realization comes in small seemingly insignificant instances. For example, I was haggling with an electric rickshaw driver a few days back and I realized where I am going there won't be any such transport. Where I am going, people won't be able to understand my native language. The things I love the most like my books, I'll be leaving them behind.

However, it is not all bad. The new land is giving me an opportunity for which I have worked for all these years. The opportunity to establish myself, find my footing and the ability to shoulder the burden that is existence. It opens doors to a new life and a new more responsible me.

Hopefully, I'll be able to keep myself together and face this world with grace and dignity. Grace might not be possible at all times, but dignity is non-negotiable.

The Chaos that is My Life

I feel like right now I'm in a vortex. Everything is happening all at once and I-+-'m gasping for a peaceful breath. I have to move out of my parent's house for the first time because of a job. College is ending and a lot of submissions are remaining there as well. I have no real friends to speak of and no one to share my feelings with so I'm writing this.

I have worked hard at the project I am going to submit, but it just doesn't feel good enough to me. People who did absolutely nothing in theirs are confident that their project is worth publishing in International journals.

I leave behind the place I've called home for the last 17 years. I'll miss my trees and my room. My table, the center of my world for the last 15 years will also be left behind.

The job I have got, if you believe the news, will no longer be valid after 5 to 10 years. I have no mentors either. In my family, most are self-employed and I have no idea how the employed life works. I still don't fully understand my compensation package. I am scared to death that I will say something terrible or my skills won't enough for this job. I live in the fear of failure. I need a mentor/guide to tell me what to do and how to work, but there is no one.

I know life is not fair always, but I am wallowing quietly in self pity. I will be okay soon. Thanks for reading and if you have any advice for me, do leave me a comment.

Rant off

MATLAB

When Breath Becomes Air: A Review

BUY IT HERE

Author: Paul Kalanithi

Rating: 10/10

 This book has been on every bestseller list for about a year now and is highly praised. Naturally, I thought it would be another all-hype-no-substance read. I avoided it. Last Sunday, I chanced upon an article written by Dr. Kalanithi in the Stanford Medical review. His writing was poetic, elegant and encompassing. I decided to read the book and I'm happy to say I wasn't disappointed in the least.

Heartbreaking, eloquent, humbling and thought-provoking. This is the story of a man brimming with potential but running out of time. His search to understand life and it's meaning lead him to language, literature, and history, but it was in science that he found his calling. This is an account of his journey as it comes to its untimely end.

I could not put this book down despite being unwell. Verghese, who wrote the foreword, is absolutely correct when he says that this is prose poetry. The words are poetic, they reach your heart. I'm saddened by the loss of his family as he was someone you want to know and learn from.

Some of my favorite quotes:


“You can’t ever reach perfection, but you can believe in an asymptote toward which you are ceaselessly striving.”

A Message from Paul to his daughter:

“That message is simple: When you come to one of the many moments in life when you must give an account of yourself, provide a ledger of what you have been, and done, and meant to the world, do not, I pray, discount that you filled a dying man’s days with a sated joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more, but rests, satisfied. In this time, right now, that is an enormous thing.”

Hence, this is a moving and humbling story of a man who has infinite potential and ability, but very limited time. I highly recommend this one. 

Princess, I'd rather be CEO

Okay, so a lot of times people refer to the female gender by Princess, my Queen and such. It is often in endearing dynamics or sometimes to mock the snobbishness of the person. I, for one, don't like such titles. I find them rather infuriating. Think about it! A Princess is a title either earned by birth or marriage and both are not decided by a person's caliber or intellect. However, titles like CEO, CTO, President, and Chief not only command respect but are earned. One has to prove their merit to earn them.

So, I don't claim every female will agree with my point of view, but for me, Princess is close to an insult. I'll take Chief, CEO any day. Monarchy never excited me anyway.

The Scary 20s

As a twenty-something, I'm just going to say it; the twenties are scary. The amount of growth one experiences in the twenties is unique and happens at an exponential rate. The difference between the emotional quotient of a 21-year-old and a 29-year-old is huge. Compare a 31-year-old and 39-year-old and there is not much difference. As we age, the years of a decade don't make much of a difference.

From just graduating college, first job, first house, and probably even first marriage, twenties have it all. With every passing year I keep getting more scared. What if I screw this up? What if I never make it? What if I a lot is left unfinished and the time runs out? 

Well, I don't know the answers to the the above questions, I still have a couple of years left in this decade. However, if you are reading this and have some insightful, fun, deep, or just any story about your life in the twenties, do leave me a comment.