Just very briefly because things took off twice as fast as expected–one minute I was working three different timezones and now I’m in Delhi surrounded by incredible young minds involved in development.
Here’s my first real taste of authentic Indian food–my favorite is still the paneer, dhal and roti combo. I also really love basmati rice.
The adventure has finally begun!
[But] The 8-hour workday is too profitable for big business, not because of the amount of work people get done in eight hours (the average office worker gets less than three hours of actual work done in 8 hours) but because it makes for such a purchase-happy public. Keeping free time scarce means people pay a lot more for convenience, gratification, and any other relief they can buy. It keeps them watching television, and its commercials. It keeps them unambitious outside of work.
We’ve been led into a culture that has been engineered to leave us tired, hungry for indulgence, willing to pay a lot for convenience and entertainment, and most importantly, vaguely dissatisfied with our lives so that we continue wanting things we don’t have. We buy so much because it always seems like something is still missing. – Your Lifestyle Has Already Been Designed: An article by David of Raptitude.
Remember how, a few posts back, I talked about work and resignations and all that? Well, I’m still uncomfortable looking at this decision as just an excuse to travel/live differently. Not that there’s anything wrong with that but after much work done today in several locations and across different fields, I realized something that workers aren’t normally encouraged to consider…
Work can be creative even if you aren’t in a creative industry.
Perhaps it’s because my dad’s an artist? All of us chose careers that were not in line with his because my eldest sister is a lawyer, our middle sister is a doctor and I’m–wait, what am I really? Anyway, existentialism aside, I learned after reading the quote above that what I really need to do is accept that I do my work with an artist’s mind.
What this means is that, I will never thrive in a 9-5–not because I don’t respect it or the people who work best in it, but because a lot of my ideas happen in and out of work and I’ve found that the more I’m chained to a desk, the more likely I am to lengthen coffee breaks and surf the net needlessly. In contrast to this, when I’m outside talking to people and visiting institutions, I really tend to be more conscious of possibilities and excited by the ideas we all end up exchanging.
Want to know something else? Being on the go and outside of a cubicle also pressures me into fulfilling my duties more. Something about knowing that the culmination of events I partake in daily reflects the amount of work I do just keeps me forever making to-do lists and being religious about accomplishing tasks.
Maybe this is how being driven really feels like?
As for travel, David of Raptitude is right. Like him, I tend to spend less than I normally do when travelling because i’m just more concerned with the essentials and I don’t need the perk-up of an expensive cup of tea or a meal I could otherwise have cooked or enjoyed at a much cheaper price.
Travel really gives us a sense of what matters and the more I do it, the clearer it is to me. We must always be on the road, on the go–that’s the key to a meaningful, productive life.
I didn’t want to jinx it. When I got the news about India, I worried that it would be too good to be true–so I decided to keep silent and go about my life. There was a strong sense that it would happen and an equally pervasive feeling that it wouldn’t. But now, I am happy to report that it’s happening! I finally got hold of a ticket and I’m waiting for my visa to get processed.
These are two books that i’ve been taking to bed with me. The one on the right is a standard Lonely Planet guide which I picked up because it was on sale and two years old. The book on the left is special. My dad had gone to India a few years back to photograph a couple getting married there. He was flown to India and he lived in the Oberoi in Delhi. As a parting present, bride and groom gifted him with this beautiful DK guidebook that reads like an encyclopedia.
These items alone make the place real to me already…what more the actual place and its stunning splendor?
Have any of you gone to India? If so, what do you suggest I do/see?
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My defense of silence comes from Graywolf Press: Tracy K. Smith writes about it here. Unsure of whether it is completely relevant but lately this is how I feel about my writing. It too undergoes stages and some have to close before others can begin.
We travel for pleasure, for a door-slamming sense of “I’m outta here,” for a change of air, for edification, for the big vulgar boast of being distant, for the possibility of being transformed, for the voyeuristic romance of gawping at the exotic; and sometimes we travel because we have been banished. I was banished once, and it fortified me.
Anticipating India has made me anxious and hungry to devour anything written about the country. I’m excited and I know it but I’m also hitting that point when I feel like I’ve researched too much and read loads more than I should. This is the one thing that baffles me about today’s set of explorers. We want to be so realistic about expectations that we go out of our way to know everything that can be known. I’ve had over 25 tabs open and running since last week–each one a portal into someone’s India that narrates everything spent, experienced, done. These days, all travel decisions can be made without even stepping foot in the places we’ve yet to see. Do I want to see Hue or Hoi An? Are these places worth my money? Will I enjoy a bus-ride or a train-ride? What can I do if I stay for x number of days?
Tonight, the tabs are still around but I’m ignoring them and opting to read this magazine instead. It’s a handsome little volume that excites me and seeing that it’s published here in the Philippines makes me even more thrilled.
Admittedly though, I’m a bit let down by what I have read–not that the magazine failed to deliver but rather, the itinerary I have for India has been taken on by others–as if the internet wasn’t bad enough. They’ve written about all of it–and it’s silly, I know, but doesn’t this get to you? Do you feel some slight ache over this?
For a brief moment, I lost my will to roam only because it hit me that there are no longer any uncharted territories and only places where others have been. I know this is not what travel is about and I know that tomorrow I will regret whining in public but still, there is some disillusionment to be felt knowing that the places you ache to discover have been stripped bare of their mystery by many a traveler.
Thanks to Theroux, though, there’s hope for all of us. Maybe the lesson to be learned is that exploration is as much a journey into oneself as it is a journey outward into the world.
There’s this beautiful new project by The Atlantic called Books by Heart which I came to know about this week through Tumblr. I’m posting my favorite graphic because at this point in my life, it makes the most sense.
I turned 25 last week–it was a Friday–and on the Monday that followed it, I handed in my resignation letter. There’s nothing wrong with my job. In fact, if I played my cards right and really maximized the general potential present in my current occupation, I would have been deemed “successful” by a lot of people. But then, there’s success and there’s happiness–the former usually being defined by one’s capacity to achieve the latter. When I was a teenager, I wrote my goals down and told myself that when I’m 25, I’d have to be self-sufficient, living alone and having a grand adventure. Sure, those are dreams of an idealistic teen who at the time knew nothing about taxes and bills–but as I contemplated those goals whilst sitting on my desk, on a regular 8-hour workday, it hit me: I just wasn’t as happy as I could be. It felt like the greatest disservice to myself and this nation that I so longed to serve to have to inflict my unhappiness upon it.
And before you think that it’s because I didn’t “do my time” or endure long enough–or before I’m deemed a quitter, let me just say in my defense that I’ve been in government for close to four years now. I kept my current job for a year but the previous ones have been served in varying capacities at different levels too. Why am I even defending myself? I really shouldn’t. We’re always taught that government work is about endurance, not speed. Here I borrow a concept from long distance running. We’re made to believe that work here is an exercise in futility and also the kind of business wherein returns on your investment only come when retirement is near–if it comes at all.
Truthfully, I have to disagree and compel people, especially those who like me are still young and able, to realize that usually, what stands in the way of making a difference is precisely this dogged belief in the way things are. Our mindset is our own enemy and the key (Jeffrey Sachs was right!) is still persistence. I had to pinch myself every time something happened that proved this so–because I too was really wont to think that it would take a long time before quality reform could be implemented. But it happened and I can’t deny that.
…Burnout happened too. I feel ashamed admitting that the system actually wore me down. But looking at it objectively, it wasn’t the system so much as it was the individual cogs that needed oiling that made work so stressful. That and maybe I’m not the best at convincing others? But more than self-doubt, the real kicker here was hearing from someone a few years older that actually, I didn’t have to endure–I just had to do what I needed to do to be happy.
Sounds vague, I know. Why do you think I have to write about it? Isn’t writing therapy too? But seriously, when I think about happiness, I think about adventure, travel and learning. I also think about stories and writing–and when I’m brutally honest, I often think about service and being a good civil servant.
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The amazing thing is that the Universe seems to be working toward making me happy. Not the first time it’s happened but still a very pleasant surprise. The day after I quit–Tuesday, it was a holiday–I was congratulated for winning a contest. Who knew that a simple blogpost would make India a possibility? My contract ends on the 30th of the month and India is scheduled to begin on that same day.
Coincidence? I think not. Perhaps what the Universe would like me to acknowledge is that Sisyphus was indeed happy–contrary to what we might have been made to believe. And extending this further, perhaps it’s really true that if we pursue that which enlivens us and offers happiness beyond our own imagination, we might actually become better at whatever it is we choose to call our work.
The best years – or, at least, the most important years – of our lives, I’ll wager, are not those which contain all the best stuff, but the most momentous. Doors close, others open, windows are left slightly ajar, allowing a steady and continual breeze to waft in, year after year; lights go out; decisions are made; other things occur which are beyond our control; books are read; trousers are lost. [Stolen from Oliver Tearle's New Year's blogpost.]
I don’t often pry on people following me on Twitter but yesterday, out of curiosity, I clicked on Oli’s page and read this excerpt from his blog. Needless to say I was floored–save for the bit about the trousers because, well…those aren’t the articles of clothing I’m often wont to lose. But that’s an aside.
So why all this and why the silence?
I’ve just resigned from my job and come to terms with the fact that desk jobs really aren’t for me.
So one door has closed and another is set to open. I’m mostly just tired so I’m keeping this short. Here’s to the next adventure–and if you ever get to read this, Oli, thank you for the words.
The flowers have started to bloom outside our front gate signaling the arrival of summer. It’s an event I look forward to the same way the Japanese anticipate the coming of the cherry blossoms–if you notice, the flowers are similarly poised for viewing. Unfortunately, I haven’t found the time to sit and watch them. At best, I see them in the evening, illuminated by street lamps. Perhaps this is a good time as any to enjoy the sight of them?
April is always a month of possibility. I usually get work or embark on new projects on this month as it often feels specially charged with positive energy. This year, apart from the usual projects at work, I’m looking into more creative work with heritage items. Every piece of our history has a special story to tell and the more I do research into time periods, the more I discover that there’s so much we don’t learn in school. Items too are better contextualized through place. Seeing areas makes them more alive–so, field trips are a must!
I don’t know why I’m writing about these possibilities but I guess this is the best segue I can think of to celebrate the traffic I’ve been getting these past few days. For the longest time, I’ve been keeping this blog, writing for myself–in order to understand things I can’t often articulate in conversation–and inasmuch as this has been a rewarding process, it gets lonely too. Often blogging feels like talking to a wall and though I’m sure writers are happy enough being read, I sometimes wonder what it’s like to really strike conversations online and debate the merits of certain things.
I’m reminded often that writing is only as good as the accompanying photos or the way the text is laid out. Even at work, my boss reminds me of how short the attention span of people is online, and in general. People are just not interested or able to sit still and read, he says. I want to agree at times because it can get so quiet here.
But I don’t and I write anyway. It feels good to tell stories, especially that of the people and the places I see. I firmly believe that individuals each see things a different way and to not tell others about what we see is a waste–because our capacity to be awed by things is great. And it’s equally special to share this with all of you.
Thank you for dropping by, saying hello and offering such kind words. I have nothing to offer the lot of you in return except more words and photos. I hope these will suffice. You have all given me a great dose of encouragement–which I find incredibly difficult to quantify. And if you found me on account of loneliness, I have to say, my heart’s been abloom all week! It definitely feels like April.
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