Grad Life: Halfway Through

Kharagpur, April 2011 …

The summer that would soon start challenging me with the uncertain was knocking at the door. I was writing an end-semester examination – the fourth of a series of five. It started at 2:00 in the afternoon and was to continue till 5:00. The enthusiastic invigilator took it upon himself to update us on time every half an hour. At one point, he said, “Three-thirty. Halfway through.”

A shiver ran down my spine the moment I heard ‘halfway through’. I paused for a minute to reflect on my progress. There were five questions – all of equal credit – and I was still working on the second one. I knew that I had to speed up before it could get too late. I knew that the next to attempt would be a ‘power-play’ question to make up for some lost time and confidence. I learnt from what went unexpected in the first half and revised what to expect of myself in the second. I followed through. It worked. 

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One of my Mathematics teachers known for his grueling tests used to say, “From every examination you gather some experience”.  As I stepped forward in the exciting journey of life, the ‘halfway’ moment of April 2011 gradually revealed a bigger picture. Every situation catching us off guard is an examination. They occur to enrich our experience. The process of enrichment has – very similar to what in engineering is called a transient – a period during which we are shaken inside. We respond by being tense, clumsy, scared, resistant, oblivious, or something else. Our initial response is often subconscious. It depends on who we are inside by virtue of our genes, nourishment and past exposures. Eventually there comes a time when we rise to consciousness. We get to realize how to ‘take it from here’. We start to appreciate that it is just another stepping stone in our path of eternal growth. This is what I call the halfway point. Two and a half years into grad life, I feel that I am hovering somewhere around the halfway point now. The future might – and probably will – prove me wrong; I will gladly accept it. Today I am going to share with you a few of the many experiences during my grad life that have brought me closer to the halfway point.

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         During my initial days at College Station, the friend circle I was part of loved to discuss politics. This was reinforced by the upcoming Indian general election of 2014. In the past, all I could think of politics was something very naive I had heard from people around like “They played politics to get this particular person selected / eliminated”. I absolutely hated this idea, so I used to stay away from any discussion on politics. However, this circle used to discuss whether a particular policy of a leader was good or bad, whether a person should be elected given all their records, and so on. At times of course they used to get too attached to, verbose and carried away with their ideas, but they did get to enjoy the discussions nonetheless.

One day I got confronted by one of them on my lack of participation.

“Look, these stuff do not come to me at all”, I was honest, “I need to learn these from scratch and prepare to be able to participate”.

“Man, you have to know what’s happening to our country”, he said, “It’ll affect all of us. Besides, we’re not experts either. Does that mean we’d never discuss?”

After days of thinking to myself and thanks to a senior for suggestions, I watched all the episodes of the show ‘Pradhanmantri’ (The Prime Minister) that covers the political history of India since independence. I began to realize how difficult it is to make decisions that are going to influence billions of people. I began to appreciate how complex the human dynamics is. I began to respect the people who tried their best to make it work. I began to understand that history is written or narrated from a particular perspective, and that the same incidence is going to be perceived, interpreted and described differently by two different people. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I understood how difficult yet essential it is in life.

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           My roommate Atanu, our very good friend Niladri and I were enjoying a delicious dinner at a seafood restaurant not very long ago. At one point Atanu said, “Guys, I’ve a question. We’ve been through school life, undergrad life and grad life. Which one would you enjoy the most?”

            “Me? Grad life!” I said instantly. Atanu asked why.

         “Well, the other two were not bad, but this one’s been different. I’ve been growing as a person like I never did. What about you?”

           “For me it’s school life, man! Those were golden days. I miss them like anything. They’ll never come back!” Niladri agreed as well. They went down the memory lane.

  For a moment some memories of school life came to my mind. They are no doubt special, but I feel better, freer and more excited about life now. I gave them the genuine answer. I smiled.

           Had this conversation taken place a few years ago, I would have felt awkward for differing from them. I would have been honest anyway, but afraid of being judged as the ‘odd one out’. If I have to thank grad life for one reason other than advancing my academic career, it is that grad life has taught me to accept myself just the way I am. I wondered for months what is wrong with me that makes me feel isolated in a group. I have got a simple answer: nothing.

  I am a complete person on my own. My perspectives count. My feelings matter. My concerns are real. My tastes and quirks make me the person that I am. I am free to enjoy my own company. I am free to exercise my own choices as long as I take full responsibility for every single one of them. My self-worth comes from within. It does not depend on how a person treats me. That I do not get along with someone or that someone does not like me does not mean that I am a bad person. With this esteemed sense of self comes the drive to take the uphill road of constant self-improvement. We are all good, but we can always get better. I believe that we must all keep coming up with better versions of ourselves in order to work towards a better world. I have been working on watching my thoughts when alone and my words when with people.

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         As we honor ourselves and step out of our comfort zones, we start respecting and appreciating every fellow human being at a unique stage of a unique journey of life. Every brain is wired uniquely. Every heart responds to unique sensations. One person can easily see what another cannot. A third person can easily do what the first two cannot. Our skills are honed by where we wanted to go, what we have been through and how much we have learnt. No one is superior; no one is inferior; we are just different. The world needs the wholehearted service of every single one of us to the best of our abilities.

Grad life has been changing me in ways I could never have imagined. 

Thank you, grad life!

Happy Birthday to me! J

People Skills: Part Two - The Ray of Hope

“Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.”

– Rabindranath Tagore

           

Before I go any further, I would first like to thank all of you who have read part I and given it a thought. It takes a lot of courage to share with the world something about ourselves that we are not proud of. However, once we own our story and decide not to run away from it, we do have, in ourselves, the power to change for the better. Change takes time; change takes practice, but change is inevitable. Readers, in my mind I have wondered a hundred times if what I am going to tell you today is worth talking about. Ninety out of hundred times my mind has told me, “Oh it’s so obvious. It’s so stupid. No one will find it interesting!” This is probably the train of thought holding me back a lot of times during conversations. Today I will give it a shot. I will share with you a few stories and my thoughts over the last few months.

            I met Saptarshi, senior to me by a year, at the dramatic society I was a member of back in my IIT days. We stayed in the same hall of residence. From the institute foyer – where we used to meet up for rehearsals – to the nearest tap of drinking water was about a minute’s walk, but not all the time were we in a mood to go get water ourselves. One day Saptarshi asked me if I had water. My bottle was empty, so I said no. Later that day, I felt thirsty; I walked up to the tap, drank water, and came back with my bottle full. Shortly after, another senior, from a different hall of residence, asked for water. I offered him readily. Saptarshi noticed this, and said, “Dipanjan, what was that? You favored a senior from another hall and turned down one from your own! How could you!” Today I would have relished his sarcasm, but those were days when, for me, humor used to exist only in literature. This, along with my low self-esteem, dried my mouth, and made me feel guilty of bad manners.

            Fortunately, it did not take long for me to observe and appreciate the fact that Saptarshi was my polar opposite in social circles – brimming with energy, cracking jokes on everyone including himself, bursting into frequent laughter, and keeping people around him entertained for hours. His artistic pursuits, in addition to his ability to take everything easy, made me think that he was living nothing short of the life of his dreams. As we came closer, I learnt that, when the ‘guilt-trip’ incident happened, he was struggling with a back pain and getting ready to undergo a spine surgery. Such was his strength that he could go having fun with everyone for hours when he could not even sit properly, for his back used to ache. I wonder how many of us could even imagine what the very popular comedian was going through. In my heart I felt great respect for him, but there was something more to come.

            One night I went to his room for some entertainment. He was busy looking up an article on Wikipedia. As I asked what the article was on, he said, “The Chakras”. Clueless, I asked him to explain. “Oh well, there are seven of them. They’re nodes – from top to bottom – where the energy’s concentrated in the human body. Those with energy at the second highest node become musicians; those with energy at the highest become sages, and …”, he went on explaining. What I thought was supposed to be an hour of laughter ended up being a two and a half hours of lecture – on spiritual awakening, the beliefs and values in ancient India, the teachings of Swami Vivekananda, and some more. An avid listener, quiet and spellbound, I sat pinned to the chair as he kept on illuminating my mind, making natural and effortless transitions through topics. This was so uncharacteristic of the happy-go-lucky Saptarshi I had ever known. The two and a half hours felt like an eternity. For me, it was entertainment – not the way I imagined, but certainly the way I loved. When he finally stopped, he thanked me for listening, and said the following:

“Dipanjan, you’ve never seen me like this, right? Look, I’m a very serious person. I study all that I shared with you tonight. BUT, if you ever bring these up when we’re having fun as a group, I’ll be the person yelling at you. Do you know why? When people are looking for fun, I show my light-hearted side, not my serious side…”

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As a child, I learnt that we have four basic needs: food, clothing, shelter and education. It has only been a while since I started to see that education means a lot more than our academic curriculum. Education is what opens our soul to the world. In order to live a healthy life, we all want to be loved, accepted and felt part of a society that nurtures our interests. No one wants to feel isolated and left behind. An educated soul knows that we must give what we want to receive – be it love, respect, honor, appreciation, acceptance or whatever else. An educated soul knows something more. If we want to share these beautiful feelings with the world, we must share them with ourselves first. We must learn self-love, self-acceptance and self-compassion to get rid of low self-esteem and self-deprecating self-talk. Instead of telling ourselves, “I can’t do what a lot of people are doing effortlessly day in and day out”, we should learn to say, “I’m a human being. It’s okay if certain things do not come naturally to me. If they’re important, I can learn them, and I know that I will.” The world looks different – and a better place to live – once we start holding ourselves high. The first amazing change we notice in ourselves is that we start holding everyone high.

             So, after a few friends pointed out and Saptarshi demonstrated what I need to learn, it is up to me to make conscious changes when dealing with people. Change takes time; changes takes practice, but change is inevitable. Amir, older to me by six years, is one of my best colleagues at Texas A&M. I once said to him, “I feel so sad, Amir. You know, there are so many people I just do not get along with. I mean, how nice it’ll be if I can, but the truth is that I just don’t!” With a gentle smile, Amir replied, “Man, you don’t have to!” I see his phone busy all day, so I did not understand him at first. “You know, we’re all different people by nature. Some people like to get close; some do not. Some people like to hear details; some do not. Plus, we come from different places and cultures. For example, I’ve seen people from small towns, and from big cities. They’re likely to have different styles. It’s okay…”

An avid reader and my source of light when it was all dark, Amir introduced me to a series of books – ‘Quiet’, ‘The Five Love Languages’, ‘The Gifts of Imperfection’, ‘Emotional Intelligence’, ‘Crucial Conversations’, ‘Mindful Compassion’ – that are gradually revealing a side of life I never knew exists. Thanks in addition to my exposure to the Myers-Briggs personality types, it makes perfect sense to me that I will get along well naturally with some people, while with some others it will take a lot of work. In addition, it is part of compassion to set boundaries and hold people accountable for their behavior. My strength today comes from the fact that, no matter how good my people skills become, I have always wanted and I will always want the best for myself and everyone, and I will continue working towards the same!

The Cultural Lens: A Storytelling Seminar

“We’re a group of masters and PhDs here – all educated people. We think we just know it. Often, we really don’t!”

Last evening I went to a seminar on College Teaching. The seminar was intended to address the nuances of teaching a culturally diverse population. Dr. Marisa Suhm, the Assistant Director of the Department of Multicultural Services at Texas A&M, was the speaker. As she began, she said that she would base her talk mostly on stories. Looking back now, I find a few of her stories simply unforgettable. Readers, I want to share them with you today. As you read them, I want you to think how our brain can make conclusions which are not just wrong, but horribly wrong, and how much we need to re-wire the brain when exposed to different cultures.

 “My first overseas assignment,” Dr. Suhm said, “was to teach English Literature to a group of students in Micronesia. In case you’re wondering where Micronesia is, it’s a group of Pacific islands, to the north of Australia. It’s so far that if you go any farther, you are essentially coming back!

So, the first piece of literature I taught was Shakespeare’s Hamlet. If you recall, Hamlet’s studying when he receives the news of his father’s death. As he comes back, he sees a marriage ceremony going on – his mother marrying his uncle. He’s shocked! Is this real? Why’s his mother not mourning her husband’s death? How come they’re celebrating? How come she’s marrying her brother-in-law?

I got up to this point, and said to the class, “Everyone with me?” They eyed the ceiling as their eyeballs rolled sideways.
         “Does anyone have questions?” I gestured with my hand to tell them to raise theirs, should they have questions. A pin-drop silence followed. I had never seen this in US. Had it been the law school in US, students should have been yelling by now!

I thought I’d give it another try with a different teaching method. In the next lecture, I enacted the scene – with all sorts of drama – instead of just narrating it.

“Everyone with me?” Once again, all the eyeballs rolled.

“Questions? Please raise your hand!” I saw the silence repeating itself.

Frustrated, I saw the dean. What he said made me stunned. In that island, people look up and roll their eyeballs to say ‘yes’. Raising the hand is considered rude. Further, as there are frequent wars between the communities, when a woman’s husband dies, she is married off to the second brother for protection. So, while I was asking those big questions that Hamlet had, the students must have been thinking, “What’s the big deal? Why’s she so vocal about it?” Guess what could have happened had I not gone to the dean on time! The students would see him after a few days and say, “What the hell, she’s teaching the same Hamlet all semester!” My eyes opened that day!” Dr. Suhm moved on to the next slide.

A little later, we were asked to observe a role-play. It was about a man and a woman entering a dining hall and eating together. The man entered with the shoes on, the chin up, keeping a straight posture, eyeing the surroundings. The woman stayed a couple of steps behind, walking barefooted, looking down. There were two chairs; the man sat with his back against one and his feet on the other. The woman sat on the floor. She then stood up, took a bottle of drink, filled two glasses, and gave one glass to the man. He drank a little and made a gesture by hand, at which she started drinking. She stood up again, took a bowl of food, filled two plates, and gave him one. He ate a little and gestured at her to start eating. All the while, the man never removed his shoes or left any of the chairs, and the woman sat on the floor.

As the play ended, Dr. Suhm asked us a few questions to make sure that the observations were the same for all of us. She then told us to brainstorm the kind of culture that the actors represented. The attributes we came up with were unequal, patriarchal, male-dominated, chauvinistic, and some more. We all agreed that, in that culture, women are treated as inferior and servants. They have to walk without shoes and behind men, sit below men, serve men, and are not allowed eat or drink without men’s approval. Men, on the other hand, are leaders, have all the rights, and have things done for them by women.

“So, ladies here, would you like to be part of such culture?”

“NO! We want to be treated as equals. We want to be able to exercise our own freedom and make our own choices.” This was the overall response from women.

“Gentlemen, please be honest; would you like to be part of such culture?”

A guy said ‘no’ instantly. When asked why, he said that there’s no challenge for men, for everything is done for them anyway.

“Well, we all can have our own interpretations”, Dr. Suhm continued, “but here’s the true story. In this culture, people worship earth as God. Women are powerful enough to touch God; men are not. Women are powerful enough to look at God; men are not. So the woman can walk barefooted and look at the floor, but the man must have his shoes on and chin up, so he does not see the floor. While eating, the man cannot let his dirty body parts – butt and feet – touch the ground, so he must have them on chairs. The woman need not do so, so she can sit on the floor. Because of frequent wars, the man’s job is to protect the woman. This is why he leads her and scans the surroundings for potential intruders. She offers him drink and food to examine if there’s poison; then only she eats. You see, all our conclusions are wrong!”

We all were speechless.

“We’re a group of masters and PhDs here – all educated people. We think we just know it. Often, we really don’t!” She said, “This was an example made to trick your brain. Without being conscious, we see things through our own cultural lens or cultural filter. We try to make sense of events as if they were part of our culture. The reality might be something beyond our imagination. Remember this when you teach students belonging to different cultures. Make no assumptions!”

My Journey with Children

My eldest niece Debolina turns seventeen today.

I was in the fourth grade in primary school when Debolina was born. By that time, I had been an elder brother thrice. However, the thought of becoming an uncle at the age of eight never crossed my mind. Her mother – my eldest cousin – gave birth to her at the hospital where my mother used to work as a nurse. I desired to be with my mother, cousin and brother-in-law as we were going to bring her home from the hospital. My desire was fulfilled. I was ecstatic during the entire journey. Perhaps very few experiences in life can be as exciting as bringing a newborn home.

Debolina spent the first few months of her life with us at her maternal grandfather’s place. I used to observe her as much as I could. Why she needed to sleep twenty hours a day, when I could place her on my lap, whether she could recognize all of us around, when she would start talking – were some of the questions I used to ponder over. To this curiosity, an incident added something special for the first time.

Debolina was two or three months old when her mother fell severely ill one night. The doctor said that the baby must not be breastfed, for she too would fall ill. Though not recommended before the age of six months, she had to be given baby food that night. It was past 10 o’clock; all the shops in our locality were closed. My father and one of our close neighbors went out to see if they could manage to get something. Famished, the baby was crying louder and louder. Everyone at home was counting moments of anxiety. I had never felt that helpless before. Fortunately, a medical store a little far from home was still open. It saved us any further pain. I generally find it hard to express my emotions freely, but when the baby food arrived home that night, I jumped and screamed in joy. It was spontaneous. I felt a strong bond with my little niece. Deep inside occurred a realization that I too can do my bit for her to grow as a happy and healthy child.

This was the beginning of a journey that continues with full fervor to this day. I thank God for giving me the opportunity to share my family life with a total of ten nephews and nieces – members of my next generation. Depending on what should serve them the best, my role switches: from a playmate to a teacher, from a listener to a mentor, from a guardian to a friend. I try to give them my undivided attention. In return, they gladly give me theirs. As a result, I get a glimpse of how they perceive and communicate with the world, as well as how the perception and communication evolve with time. To an adult, interaction with children on a regular basis is one of the most enriching lessons life can offer. Let me share with you some stories from my life.

Until my niece Suparna started going to school, she found it hard to open up to the family members whom she did not get to see all the time. This set of family members included me as well. Shortly after she had been admitted to school, she once visited our home with her parents. I was surprised to see her smiling at me, trying to get close to me and pulling my leg whenever she could get a chance. She told others later that she liked my not getting impatient. After lunch, her mother put her to sleep while her father left. As she woke up, she started crying, “Where’s dad? Where’s dad?” I intuitively knew that I should not say, “Dad’s gone”. What should I tell her then? Her mother – my cousin – said, “It’s okay; walk her up the stairs.” I did so, and started introducing her to the trees nearby. She calmed down, and started telling me about the trees she had seen earlier. It was the beginning of a different chapter for us.

My nieces Sohini and Sinjini live two bus-stops away from our home. During my IIT days, I used to visit them every time I went home. “Kutti-mama (young uncle) is here!” would be their loud response as the door would open. The three of us would then have a wholehearted chatter and laughter, followed by wild dance moves to each and every ringtone of my cellphone – till we would get sweat-drenched and run out of breath. Despite being terrible at dance, I would participate, thinking of the smile of fulfillment it would bring on their faces. They would then beg of me to stay back for a little more time. After my departure, they would invariably ask their mother when I would see them the next time. I would go back to drown myself in the pure and innocent charm of “Kutti-mama’s here!” The cycle continued till I came abroad. I miss those lovely moments today.

My seven-year old nephew Priyam is now in the first grade. He likes playing with toy cars and watching trains pass. Two years ago, he came to see me with his mother before I left for the US. When it was time for their return, he started crying piteously. He did not stop until I showed him some YouTube videos of trains that he had liked the previous night. I learnt that he really loves vehicles. Now, speaking on the phone the other day, he said, “Do you know what a black box is?”

I could think of two closely related ideas. One is a general modeling technique in Control Theory. The other is a specific application of the technique, used for recording flight data in aircraft. Given his interest in vehicles, it may be the second one, but is it not too advanced for a first grader? I said, “Well, first tell me what you know; I can then take over.”

He gave me in very clear words the definition that applies to an aircraft. “How did you know it?” I asked, astonished.  

“I saw it on the Discovery channel”, he said. I learnt later that he notes down in a journal all that sound interesting to him, so that he can tell me on the phone. After we spoke a little more, I asked, “What'll you do when you grow up?”

“A few things. I'll become an engineer of cars. I'll build shelter for the poor and donate them lots of money. And… and… one more thing… I'll be a teacher.”

I thank him for a good sleep that night!

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Readers, today I have told you a few – only a few – of the many stories that involve the children of my family. I regard these stories very close to my heart. They have played a big role in making me the person I am today. “Children are the most beautiful flowers of all”, realized a fictional giant who once had selfishly denied children entry to his garden. In children, I see, above everything else, elements of inspiration. When we treat them with love, respect and care, we automatically make ourselves better human beings. To me, loving means to accept them for what they are – including what they are good at and what they are not so good at. Respecting means to make an attempt to view things from their perspective and not force ours on them. Caring means not only to make sure that their needs are met, but also to work on self-improvement as adults, so that children can look up to and learn from us. Once we expand the notion of family, we have a society. Expand the horizon a little more, and we have a country. Go a little further, and we have an entire generation across the globe trying to follow our footsteps. Let us watch ourselves in action, for an entire generation is watching!

People Skills: Part One - The Prelude

Kharagpur, 2009 …

Three undergraduate juniors – my roommate Abhisek, Avik, and I – were in the middle of a conversation over lunch at the mess of our hall of residence. After a little bit of what was going on in our lives, they started discussing some concept of Physics which, to be honest, I was not much interested in. I could, at the same time, feel their excitement and did not want to spoil it. I was unsure of how to respond, so I looked down – staring at my empty plate, playing with the spoon, humming a tune I liked, waiting for them to finish. The very next day Abhisek brought this up in private. “Dipanjan, what you were doing at lunch yesterday did not escape my notice”, he said very firmly, “You understand your own emotions quite well, but you need to understand people’s emotions, too.”

Abhisek, as I know him to this date, shows how much he cares by his sincere and practical words of advice. This was, in fact, one of the many occasions on which he tried to trigger me to work on my weaknesses. I knew that it was important, but I was struggling with several other hurdles at that point of time. “This will get better with time”, I thought.

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College Station, 2015 …

My current roommate, Subhajit, and I were in the middle of one of our many personal conversations. Subhajit observed closely how I used to interact with the other roommates during our group chats. Of course I used to feel out of place at times during those group chats, but he, quite unknowingly, shook me up to the very core that day. “Dipanjan, your people skills are poor”, he was candid yet direct. ‘People skills’ was a new term to me, so I, a creature of habits, asked him to ‘define’ it. “Oh man, this shows that your people skills are really poor”, he replied smilingly, perhaps with an intention to keep things light.

I was, however, looking for a proper definition, and, perhaps driven by my ego, a serious explanation of his statement. His being casual led me to a state of angered confusion. I managed to stay calm on the surface, but I was fuming inside. Fortunately, to my rescue, my mind went back to what Abhisek had said six years ago. This time the trigger was simply too strong to push aside. I am glad to have Subhajit help me dealing with this!

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As human beings, we all feel down, insecure and vulnerable in certain areas of life. No matter how much we achieve in life, there is something or the other that frequently makes us not so happy about ourselves. There is something or the other that we wish we could be better at. Before we decide whether it is worth taking steps to improve or live with the current status for the rest of life, we must accept and admit that we do have something troubling us, look into that 'something' as deeply as we can, develop self-awareness and seek help as and when needed. Dear reader, as you go through this series of posts that talk about one of the areas that makes me feel vulnerable, I would encourage you to think over something that you feel vulnerable about, and what you are doing about it.

Ever since childhood, I have always been a serious, reserved and quiet person. Being a member of a large family, the only child of my parents, an obedient student, and the class-topper for years, I was showered with attention throughout my school life. I was not good at playing as part of a group, reaching out and talking to people other than a few good friends, making new friends and appreciating the fun side of life. However, I never put any effort on those, since I had hardly any idea of how important they were. Coming to an IIT, watching the toppers from all corners of the country was an experience, but the transition from the center of attention to virtually nobody was painful. During the earlier years, I sometimes used to do ridiculous things that repelled more than attracted people. Gradually I built my own identity, but except for a couple of friends, the feeling of not getting along with people ate me up from inside. The only times I felt truly satisfied were when I got opportunities to help others. However, I used to feel an emotional distance, sometimes even when I was part of a group, enjoying at a restaurant, or hanging out in somebody’s room. I used to feel as if I was alone and aloof. In order to cover up my own reluctance to expand my awareness of the outside world, to initiate and lead healthy conversations, to give people the space they need, I used to do certain things that made me come across as unresponsive, desperate or even a drama king. This has been going on for a long time – well into my grad school days – and should not continue anymore! 

… to be continued

Tough Times

April, 2012 …

My days as a master’s student were rapidly coming to an end. The last end-semester examination was knocking at the door; the thesis was due in another two weeks or so; almost everyone, having an offer at hand – of either a job, or a PhD at a good grad school – was quite rightfully ecstatic. I was – to the surprise of many, and, in hindsight, due solely to my own ignorance, laziness, and lack of seriousness about the future – an exception in the celebrating crowd. Eye problems denied me entry to the job I got selected for, and I was still waiting for an absolutely no-alternative-existing offer to a fully funded PhD program, with the chances getting slimmer and slimmer every single day. To counsel myself that ‘this too shall pass’, one evening I thought of the following through self-talk, and perhaps because it sounded wise, posted it on Facebook:

“Sometimes there come times which make you stagger through darkness - the entire world seems a big mess; not a single thing works in your favor; you just don't know how long you still have to wait for the slightest ray of hope to come your way! However, in the long run, nothing else can unveil the mysteries of life better than these not-at-all-desired moments!”

Arpan, my cool yet caring wing-mate who used to have crazy ideas hitting his mind all the time, banged open my door within seconds to ask what went wrong with me. It was but natural for him to worry, for my calm and composed exterior covered the stormy interior quite well. It took quite a lot of time for me to get over that phase and come back as a stronger, wiser person. I made it through a tough time!

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Fast forwarding to January, 2015 …

I was returning to my current den, College Station, from a trip to India. The first flight from Kolkata to Dubai was five and a half hours long. About two hours into the flight, the passengers were in a jovial mood, getting ready for dinner, when a strong gust suddenly hit our reasonably massive Airbus A330. The initial tremble was scary, and that it was so keen on troubling us for minutes with undiminished intensity was scarier. We had already been asked to get back to our seats and fasten our seatbelts, but our minds were too restless, and our once hungry stomachs just too anxious. After a while came through the pilot’s voice:

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing a major turbulence. This was not in the forecast when we took off. Typically, in such circumstances, we take the aircraft to a higher altitude to avoid the storm. We are now flying at 28000 feet; we can climb to 38000 feet, but at this time there are other aircrafts flying at different altitudes, so we have to stay at 28000 feet till we get the clearance to climb. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. Thank you!”

How was the experience for the passengers, and more importantly, for the pilot who was responsible for so many lives? We finally were, at one point of time, out of danger, and landed safely; the pilot made it through a tough time!

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Everyone has to go through tough times in life – times that arrive at our doorstep in complete silence, catching us unprepared, unaware, in a state of shock, chaos and indecisiveness. They are God’s means to teach us the hard way something very valuable and very sacred that we need to learn so deeply as to retain in our heart for the rest of our lives. Tough times test and strengthen our patience, our character, our determination, and expand our perception of the world. They instill in us a ‘don’t worry; don’t panic; I’ve seen this before’ attitude. We learn and re-learn and re-learn the importance as well as the beauty of reasoning, communication, humility, empathy, kindness and love.