I’m already halfway through the 5-year PhD tenure at IISc and I’m already worried. Not about the profession or work aspect, but about goodbyes. It will be painful, excruciating. Every stop is marked with memories.

All those smiles on the walking alleys towards the department, the warmth and affection extended by the faculty, camaraderie of other students – even the familiar faces who used to dust and clean the labs…They think I don’t notice that, but I do.

Right now, I float around as if it’s gonna last forever…but it’s not. I’m standing at the midpoint right now. They think it doesn’t affect me, but it does…it would eventually.

People, I was never a very accessible person, but that doesn’t mean there is no connection with the place or with all of you. There is, and from tomorrow, I’m going to return every smile, every wave of a hand, and every greeting. Maybe that’s the revivification part.

I’m far more composed and unruffled, more self-effacing and modest, and more sensible than when I first left home. May be more than what is expected of me at times. But I still have the same ambition, the same, old aspiration that I used to have then. The only difference is then, I didn’t know what direction the life will take, and now, I’m more or less clear about it.

Timepass bitching is alright, but maneuvers, manipulations and politics at work place really get to me. I really dont know how to deal with that cool-headely. I start feeling like a 13-year-old kid again, full of naivete, who doesn't quite know how to behave in a world full of adult suaveness.

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The Salty Summer Sea

Don't care much about the routine life. Dad always says and mom used to say, too, to find happiness in the day-to-day living. But what's there to look forward to, except the experiments and the 5-minute sex acts? The mundane details...I hate it.

In Pondicherry, it's never that way. That place is dynamic, there's no need to confine yourself to one place, one activity for a long time. The place is spiritual, with art galleries, convents and monasteries. Walk down a deserted street, and you will catch a concert, an author reading his recently written work, an amateur drama group rehearsing...

And if you're a keen observer, you can spot me sunbathing, wishing for a home in this city...or if not that, at least a yacht, flaunting in the BoB waters...

Auroville 2

Auroville 1

Easy Action

ते दिवस गेलेत जेव्हा वास्तवात जे घडलंय त्यासंबंधात लोक बोलायचेत. मी जे विचित्र केलंय, वागलोय, बोललोय, त्याबद्दलच का होईना पण, जे प्रत्यक्षात होत असे तेच चघळल्या जात असे. आता मात्र सगळं कपोलकल्पित बोलल्या जातं, तेही फक्त सेन्सेशनालाइज करण्याचा एक प्रयत्न असतो. माझ्या सरळ वागण्यामुळे मी एक इजी टारगेट झालोय हे विसरुन चालणार नाही. पण हे फक्त चिडचिडा, अनप्रोफेशनल, नेहमी एकटा आणि रुष्ट असणारा, एवढ्यापुरतं मर्यादित असतं तर ह्या सगळ्या प्रतिक्रियेला फारसं महत्त्व न देता विसरून जाणे शक्य होते, पण जातिवादी, ड्रग-ऍडिक्ट ही आणि असली अनेक भोचक आणि तथ्यहीन विशेषणं ऐकल्यावर 'पुढे काय?' हा प्रश्न मनात येतो. बरं यांना हसण्यावारी न्यावं की मनात आपल्या एक्सट्रा पॉप्युलॅरिटी बद्दल खिन्नता बाळगावी, कळत नाही. आणि, यावर उपाय काय? एकाची जीभ हासडली तर आणखी दहा लसलसत राहणार. परंतु भाग्य बलवत्तर आहे. माझं आत्मबळ इतकं अस्थिर आणि कोमल नाहीय. प्रयत्न केला तर हे सर्व विसरता येणे काही अशक्य नाही. विसरता येणे शक्य नसले तरीही लोकांना हे कळण्याचे काहीच कारण नाही की मला याचा त्रास होतो.

One Rainy Afternoon