Reflections of a restless eccentric

 I have burrowed my head in self-help books for the past couple of years, and the one theme I found in several of them is this: taking responsibility for whatever shows up in our lives. I found this very hard to accept or internalize, and I often found myself saying:  But this is not my fault! It was so and so who was so awful. Taking responsibility for this means condoning their behavior, and why should I do that?  After my Dad's stroke, I felt that life had been extremely unfair to me. Here were all my friends and peers, enjoying the prime of their lives, traveling, celebrating, and surrounded by parental and familial love. Contrast that to my life: I already had a grueling schedule with my PhD program, and now I had to deal with hospital visits, logistic, and financial woes, not to mention the huge emotional toll. Even when I slept, I had nightmares. I was at the lowest point in my entire life, and I couldn't see how things would get better.  And so, when I first ...

It has been three years since that fateful evening in 2021 when my father had a stroke. It is not the stroke itself that I struggled with, but all that it unearthed. It felt like a churning of the seas, and so much good and bad came out of it. Things I had never known, things I had never been aware of, things I had taken for granted, and so much more. As more and more stuff surfaced, I felt overwhelmed by the furor. It was almost as if I couldn't breathe, as if I was drowning in the turbulence. I felt an intense need to work on myself, to understand who I really was, and what I was meant to do in this world. It has been three years since I embarked on that quest, and it has changed how I look at the world in so many ways. As one of my favorite poets T. S. Eliot says:  We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring. Will be to arrive where we started. And know the place for the first time. Today, I write about one of the things I have struggled with the most i...

December happens to be my birth month, and I take this time to reflect on all that life has brought my way. This year, like so many recent ones, has felt like a total roller-coaster. I have been through the lowest of the lows, and the highest of the highs. This post is my attempt at chronicling my experiences and perspective. The first thing I am grateful for is always my family. I spent an entire summer abroad, away from family for the first time in my life this year, and this made me realize how lucky and blessed I am to have these people around and so close by. My husband is the first person I think of in this inner circle, and his presence in my life has transformed it in so many ways over the past six years. He makes me want to be the best version of myself, and at the end of the day, he is what adds meaning to my life and all its struggles. My parents have always been there for me in their own way, and I owe my strength, independence, and resilience in large part to their very un...

 I met Ginger and Pepper 6 years ago in November on my first visit to my in-laws' place in Mysore. I'd always loved dogs but had never had any of my own, and these two instantly won over my heart. Ginger was in the prime of her life, a brown indie with soulful eyes and an insatiable need for belly rubs. I was initially skittish around her, but gradually I let my guard down. She would excitedly pounce on me the moment I stepped in, and after a couple of minutes of running and jumping, would promptly plonk down at my feet asking for a belly rub. I delighted in petting her, in the deep rumbling noises of contentment she made, and the happy licks she gave me. Pepper was around the same age, a border collie mix with the softest fur and the sweetest temperament, and she greeted me with the same enthusiasm. Spending time with these two dogs was always the highlight of my visit to Mysore, and I always thought of them as part of my family. Although I did not know then, my time with Pepp...

 The past three years have been the most difficult years of my life. I've been navigating a demanding PhD program with an entire universe of ups and downs, watching my dad go through a stroke, sink into being paralyzed and bedridden, and then inhabit the universe of chronic pain and illness. Last year, my grandfather joined him in the chronically ill world, and I look back and see a blur of health scares, hospital admissions and grief. My parental home resembled a hospital, with sick people (two) outnumbering the healthy (one), and my Mom as the primary caregiver to both her husband and her father. We lost my grandfather a few months ago, and now my father seems to be teetering on the edge of sanity. I won't even get into all the other things that have been going on in the family. This alone is enough to shake and uproot a person and drive them insane. If I am here today, still continuing my PhD and holding on to my sanity and health, I have primarily one person to thank. My am...

Over these past three years, anxiousness has been my almost constant but unacknowledged companion. It never felt too severe to hamper my functioning, and I always brushed it off. It's been a stressful week. Maybe I've had too much caffeine, it's just jitters. I have had too little sleep for a while now, my nervous system is shot. Given my schedule and life, all these are very plausible and likely explanations for how I felt. And so, I continued on, finding coping mechanisms to deal with the bad days - no caffeine, meditation and breathing exercises, long walks.  A few months back, in May, I was preparing to leave for a summer in Amherst. This would be my first time living alone abroad for a few months, and I was definitely nervous about it. My husband had to travel ahead of me, which meant that I also had the responsibility of cleaning and winding up the house before I left. Added to this, I had a paper deadline a few hours before I left, which meant I would get little to n...

 Grief is a very non-linear journey, and I have known this for a very long time. Yet, each time I inhabit one of those black holes of loss, sorrow, worry and gloom, I forget this fact. Today is one such day, and I am writing this to remind myself and anyone else who may need this.  I woke up today, feeling an intense sorrow. It took me completely by surprise, because nothing had "happened". I'd gone to bed last night feeling pretty normal, and yet I woke up feeling utterly sad. I racked my brain. Did I eat too much sugar? Was I having a delayed reaction to something that happened a while ago? I couldn't find a logical reason for my sadness, except that everything that had been going on suddenly added up and descended upon me today. I sighed and sat down. I thought about my grandfather's death, my dad's continued illness for almost three years now, and so many other tragedies before that. The tears started rolling down.  This has been a very familiar experience...