staying.cool

i watched as the bubble detached itself from nothingness, and floated off into the space above me. watching it drift along, awaiting the point when it would explode. which would be all too soon, a tad disappointing, but very expected.

it didn’t.

i watched it float on, narrowly miss the light fixture and then hold a path to the nearest wall. the end was near. i nearly turned back to what i was doing, when the light caught the silvery surface. a momentary sheen; the bubble passed out of the range of the lamp, but it had my attention. i started following its aimless drifting, joined by my friend.

it seemed determined to demonstrate resilience rarely seen in its species. wondrously, it weaved, bobbed and drifted in some crazy current of air… protected by some force that prevented it coming in contact with the wall. barely visible at some points, it drifted centimeters from the wall, eventually deciding to dip downwards… lower.. lower.. until finally it seemed collision was inevitable.

not yet. not yet.

barely visible itself, it floated along some invisible path. it had to explore every possible region it could in an all too short life. we missed it at some point, only to find we were nearly to be destroyers. jumping away, carefully ensuring nothing would obstruct it… we watched it zoom towards a nearby counter and then duck away. it seemed unsure whether to go above or below… then chose the latter route, dipping and rising almost heart-stoppingly.

we were now three people enthralled by the travails of a little bubble of air compressed in a thin soap membrane. pointing, exclaiming, wondering, following. on our knees, crawling under the counter, toddling behind it. it could not be possible that it would keep on… but it did.
flashback: to when, as a kid, i would jump and reach for every bubble blown out of the little pipe. a little later: i was blowing the bubbles, laughing as my sister screamed to get them. and today: the three of us following a sole bubble, hoping it would not disappear like so many in the past.

all at once, it hit the ground. an instance of sheen in the light, and it disappeared. just like that. my friends got up, i then realized how much we had been rooting for it. a quick silence, and i got up as well.

like so much else we want, we do, we desire; we can but hope: just a while longer.. don’t burst… just don’t burst.

i remember walking down my street, across the road, around the garden, taking a random exit, turning, still walking, reaching the highway, finding my way across it, and walking along it all the way to the nearest signal.

by the end of that walk, i had decided that i could never work in an industry, live the 9-to-5 life, develop softwares that need no design, do an MBA, sit and manage people who were writing code for ‘development’. it would be an easy option, would need next to no effort, and i would earn a lot of money in the process. i would eventually retire as a VP or maybe even higher up earning possible 7 figure salaries, and never know where my potential really lie.

all those years ago, i had reached this decision, and then turned back home. i walked back all the way, past the signals, across the roads, round the garden, and down my street. by the time i had reached home, i had decided that i was going to bust my ass in research. even if my record worked well against me for such pursuits.

it has been a while. i have had more than my fair share of rejects. i took up a masters to get the requisite background in biomedical engineering. i nearly went for a second masters. i tried to do research and studies, and surprised myself in how much i enjoyed it. all to ensure i would be able to do a doctorate eventually.

now, i am.

i finally am.

as of 2 days ago, it  has been a year since i came to the USA.

it isn’t the first time i’ve been away from home… or even the first for going abroad. in some ways, i was pretty sure that life was going to be a tad similar to the bachelor’s life i’ve been leading for the last two years.

it has been anything but.

so many things have happened over the last one year, and in so many ways, i could also say so many things that i have seen before have happened. i would prefer to focus on the novel, which may not be so very novel after all. some of my famed cynicism has been sadly lost, or maybe so much of my cynicism has been laid dormant. life is not an endless litany of frustration anymore, or even a constant quest ‘to solve the problem of these long winter evenings’.

cynically speaking, i know that i don’t really have the subject matter here to reminisce about.. those posts are getting a little bit predictable from me. the whole description of all the fun i’ve had, the people i’ve met, random mentions of incidents that make one smile.. and conclude on the happy note.

i’d rather leave with a thought: its been the first of many more to come.

the mind rambles, the thoughts don’t come, i keep typing. a blank page must necessarily remain a blank page, there doesn’t seem to be a reason to fill it up. content is immaterial, the purpose is to type and purge the head for a while. the idea of the head being ‘woolly’ is understandable now, the lack of sleep can only be alleviated by coffee. eventually, either tiredness or the lack of rest will tell, and the system will have to shut down. i realise here that the last two can easily be mistaken for being the same thing… but they’re not. once again, the realization strikes that i’m not exactly making sense, but rather typing as the thoughts come. ironically, now i’m thinking about rambling, which is a pretty redundant thing to do. a random formatting change occurs. i wonder whether i should leave this as a single paragraph (or should that be monograph ?). that could be construed as unintelligible. not that the rest of this is meant to be anything more than a stringing together of words as they enter the head. eyes droop, as they have in the last one hour. i’m putting off the caffeine for as long as possible. too much caffeine is dangerous, we don’t want the natural laxative effects to take their course. ‘laxative’ seems inherently gross somehow, but it is the most indirect way of putting the natural excretory process. somehow ‘excretion’ seems sleek as compared to ‘excretory’. this could be a new mode of writing here. just typing as they come. usually, i do try to have an idea, or a concept, or a rant in my head that excites me enough to write about it. even a philosophy. those monologues seem pedantic, almost too pompous for words now. the underlying tone of sarcasm is lost on the vast majority. as it will be. i can be too abstruse for my own good. as i now believe: ‘clarity of thought’ should be my motto. saves time. breaking down problems and then addressing their solutions, rather than intuitively arriving at them. really helps. means the concepts are a lot clearer. the motivations are easier then. even if that path is bloody boring. step-by-step, even if tedious, is simply easier. and even if i don’t realize it, appears cooler. i feel as though my eyes are shut inside my head. it is almost screaming for rest. i force the alertness. the slower thinking needs to be maintained until it is too slow. at that point, i risk being called ’stupid’. the natural faculties aren’t much higher above that level in the first place. degrading myself seems a second nature now. that probably isn’t right. i like to think it keeps me on my toes. over-analysis, and still not reacting, points to some amount of craziness on my part. somehow, i seem to have filled up at least part of this page. some relief is there, though the creativity i’m looking for seems to be lost. i need to write, create; fictionalize… explore that arena of my brain. i don’t want to lose it. i’m probably in denial though. i’ve already lost it.