Soul restoration...

There are some truths that come easily to you. The tragedy is that they are also lost easily in the daily madness of life. 

One of them is that - "Walking is good for the soul." 

Did anyone ever tell you that? Do you remember it often enough? 

I often lose track of this wonderful, inexpensive, easy past-time in the midst of that thing - rightly called the 'daily grind', because, it does leave you a little less and a little broken. Working 12 and 13 hours shifts staring at the computer screen or running between instruments is not likely to be refreshing especially with deadlines right around the corner. And they do take a toll. 

Finally, even when I decided to take a day off and abandon the world for a day - I expected a lot but that didn't do much. It sure left me feeling better physically, but it did nothing to restore the mind. The world seemed to spin faster and faster with each passing day as the hours kept shrinking and the work kept increasing - or so it seemed. 

But a walk with the wind in my face was all that was needed to make the world seem a better place. Sipping on the hot coffee with the words of PGW talking of "Jeeves' oddly shaped head" were immensely helpful but nothing is more restorative to the soul than the walk. 

The walk and the gentle wind during the wind poke these tiny holes into the cocoon that surrounds you with each passing day and somehow the heaviness that builds up with the days just falls through - gradually - seeping through the holes, like the sand slips through from that hole in the pocket that you never knew existed. And the mind feels quieter, clearer, still-er and ready to think and look beyond the obvious. A walk does that to me - each and every time without fail. It is almost as if the monotony of the task, frees up the mind to look beyond. It is almost as if your moving at a slower pace, slows the world down too. Walking, to me, is restoring the soul - just one step at a time. 

And so, Irrespective of everything else he ever said, I know Nietzsche had gotten something right when he said that “All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking.”

The circle of life...

Sometimes, its a very short road from being strangers to being acquaintances and then to become friends. Some people just fit - they talk in a way that one understands, without having to make an effort.

I have met a lot of people over the past two years but in this strange land, very few of them have left a mark. Very few of them have stayed on with me. Some of them are the people at work. Some people - I meet every day as they go about their chores and despite having seen them for months on end - our conversations would begin and end with the daily greetings. But then there were others like Ernie, who within a week of meeting him for the first time, had asked me all about my life and what a girl like me was doing single.

Ernie. :) He was big and black, punctual and talkative. But more than that he was big hearted - I could tell from the way he gave me a giant hug in the corridors when I saw him after long. That was almost two years ago because then suddenly, I just didn't see him anymore. I searched for that booming voice of his for months after that - but then I slowly resigned my hopes. I wish he had told me when he was leaving. I wish I knew where he is now, or more importantly, how he is now. Because, given a free reign, the mind only seems to conjure the worst possibilities in the realm of infinite.

And then there was Coffee... Coffee the man, not just the drink, which I can never say no to. He was from Georgia - my first southern acquaintance really.
He was a man of the kitchen - and not just because of the name - but because he was a chef. We met while I walked to the mailbox one evening to collect my mail and somehow ended up talking of life and people and the mistakes we all make. Unlike most friendships that begin on common ground, this one began from a disagreement. I disagreed with him and said so (and now I can't even remember what the whole thing was all about) but Coffee saw my point and respected that. It was a strange relationship - meeting every now and then in the parking lot on my way home only to talk of his family, wine and food. It was the first few months of my stay here and I was still trying to find my way from loneliness to solitude but when Coffee cooked a delicious meal for me in his kitchen - I was touched beyond words. And even as I debated and procrastinated having him over for a spicy Indian meal - he had gone. Gone - without a parting word but leaving behind that bottle of wine. It was the wine that I used in my first risotto. The wine, whose bottle still stands on my kitchen counter, as I hope to meet Coffee one day, and to thank him for his generosity.

And now there is Bob. As I park the car and head to the lab each morning, I search for that tall, slightly slumped, grey haired, grey-eyed figure walking around the parking lot in his blue jacket. We chat for a couple of minutes and talk of old age, memories, families, loans and life's ugly truths. He reminisces about his life as a soldier and I listen to the stories trying to find small pieces of his story, that I put together in my head.

Some times, I think these relationships mean nothing to them, but at others, I know that I care for these people and maybe they care a little too. And so when Bob says that seeing my smiling face in the morning makes his day - it makes my day better. Not just because no one has said that to me in a long time but because I am glad to make a difference to someone's life.
Because, it is nice to know that you are making a difference in the lives of some people, like someone else once did for you. I am happy to know that in that circle of life, I am doing more than just taking solace from the likes of Ernie and Coffee - that sometimes, I spread some joy too.

Stop for a day...

It has been a long time since I've even considered writing something here.
Not that life wasn't eventful - because I ended up meeting and traveling with friends after a really long time. Life was good with the holidays, the break, the meeting people, the travel and the likes.
Not that I wasn't writing - because my life was filled with words - words for work, leisure, learning and then some work... :)
I admit that time was never in plenty but then there was never even an urge to write. Somehow, my mind was too busy running and chasing its own tail... too busy to think, to slow down, to sit down and search for some different words. Words others than stem cells, therapy, brain, neurons, mouse models and the likes.
But then, after a long time, I slept well and dreamed of finding words again. Words that were lost in my race against time to do more things than I can. Words that I had hidden behind or hidden from. Words that urged me to sit down, contemplate and think.
As I look back at the past few months, all I see is the frantic flapping to try and fit in as many things as I can into my 24 hour schedule, to do as much as I can, to learn as much as I can and suddenly, I see myself reduced to a list of projects and to-do lists. Sometimes, there is so much going on that I lose track of how much is done and how much needs to be done; how much I have gained and how much I have lost.
And then yesterday, I had to stop. I let myself be tired and over whelmed and let the day fly by me. After all, the running was only warping my perspective. It took a good book and a brilliant narration of it to somehow make me find my old self - the quiet self who would smile and cry with a narrative, who would only need a book and a coffee to lose herself. It took me a whole day to rise above the concerns of experiments, tickets, deadlines and bookings and to see life for what it was and what it can be - bigger than the sum of it all.
Every now and then, one must stop and do nothing - because it is then that the mind finds its own voice which is otherwise drowning in that bustle of activity, that never-ending anxiety and that frantic attempt at doing everything.