It has been some time since I blogged. In fact, it has been six whole months! In Dec. I got married and after that time flew by managing work and the rest of life. Today, I want to slow down a bit, after working the whole weekend. Breath deep. Not get involved in filthy things that tag along with professional life.
Yesterday, I did a very unusual thing. I wrote the most harsh mail to my Ph.D guide. Of course, there was a reason. And I felt free. As if, a huge burden was off my chest. My husband (Adwait) got his MS degree certificate and we decided to have chaat and stuff at this place which is a small shop. It felt so good to get in touch with a tension free, relaxed, simple life.. Happy. I felt free. I slept off with a smile on my face.
Other day, I was talking to one of my colleague. We are close. He is like a brother. I said, Adwait was asking me the other day, when will we get time to trek up Sahyadris and stand on one the peaks, facing lashing rain. To just stand there.. to wash off all unwanted masks that we put up, wash off all the anger, restlessness.. when? To feel the peace and content. My colleague smiled and said, I am married for last three years and have been away from home and wife for more than two years. And we will get Ph.D!! Wow! We both sighed.
I was going home in a bus. It began to rain. I thought, do I feel content? Have I found my 'drive'? Why do I remember standing under a tree planted in my grandfather's garden in this small village? And when I remember that, why does it suddenly feel peaceful? Many times, I feel that my husband and I just leave everything and move to a village. Leave Ph.D and go for farming? It is really unsettling to know that you hardly know anything about yourself, what you really want. And even more troubling is the fact that, whatever you say, you will be always a bit scared about uncertainty. The worst is, feeling of being lost.
It is easier, to gather yourself and collect these moments of content. To live in the present and nurture it. Give time to yourself.
Peace.
