Feminism

This is from a while ago, never posted it

I've finally finished reading A Room of One's Own (Virginia Woolf).

Some passages were particularly striking. (Since when do I sound like a brit???)

If Virginia Woolf were still alive, I'd be in love with her I think. I mean this in an entirely platonic sense, obviously. A Room of One's Own didn't offer any new information, but confirmed some of my deepest beliefs, or rather misgivings, about people and the way we work.

"Life for both sexes...is arduous, difficult, a perpetual struggle. It calls for gigantic courage and strength. More than anything, perhaps, creatures of illusion as we are, it calls for confidence in oneself. Without self-confidence we are babes in the cradle. And how can we generate this imponderable quality, which is yet so invaluable, most quickly? By feeling that one has some innate superiority - it may be wealth, or rank, a straight...for there is no end to the pathetic devices of the human imagination - over other people."

• My favorite example of imagined superiority and pompous self-confidence is that that occurs in postings, after a not normally diligent student has studied the requisite, and come forth, shining and superior in their armor of knowledge. I have not yet heard a more comical tone of voice than the lofty for-once-in-my-life-i-know-it-all-and-am-master-of-the-universe tone in which they address all us lesser mortals. I of course know this tone quite well because I'm quite liberal in my use of it ;).
  
• Errare humanum est
  

"So tortured and pulled asunder by her own contrary instincts"

• Recognize this person? I certainly do. Couldn't have worded it better myself.

"...the mind of an artist, in order to achieve the prodigious effort of freeing whole and entire the work that is in him, must be incandescent....there must be no obstacle in it, no foreign matter unconsumed."

• What I wouldn't give for an incandescent mind. If I consumed obstacles and foreign matter like I have been mangoes, I'd be unstoppable.

"How are we fallen!Fallen by mistaken rules,/And Education's more than Nature's fools;/Debarred from all improvements of the mind,/And to be dull, expected and designed;/And if some one would soar above the rest,With warmer fancy, and ambition pressed,/So strong the opposing faction still appears,/The hope to thrive can ne'er outweigh the fears."Lady Winchilsea (1661)

• Lucky for me, the sentiments expressed in this poem have not been particularly relevant. As a child I was actually been debarred from anything that sickens the mind, which of course is the opposite end of the spectrum. Yes, barbies may promote a negative body image and are anatomically inaccurate, but hey, when you're 5, does it really make a difference? And if you're still playing with barbies beyond that age...well, get a grip.
• Of late though i.e. India, I've been introduced to this attitude, which I did note even know existed. Not in areas of academic achievement, but personality development outside academics. This poem would just about do it for anyone who lives in contention with their society.

"It was a thousand pities that the woman who could write like that, whose mind was turned to nature and reflection, should have been forced to anger and bitterness."

• Positive mental imaging people
• But again, like I mentioned before, its a war of attrition. Anger and bitterness sometimes just take over.
  

Moving Day - AAAH!

I woke up this morning, happy and blissful in my sleepy-happiness and began to think about my life. (What else is new?)

Curled up in my bed, I came to a not so unobvious but nevertheless important realization.

About the weather in Bangalore.

The weather in Bangalore, even in the dead of summer, is harmless. Its not a physical presence, threatening to smother you with every breath you take. No, no, it goes about its business, and you go about yours. Rarely does it get in the way, its like an affable neighbor. The sunlight illuminates what needs to be illuminated. It serves the purpose of beauty, when it filters through the leaves in the garden outside. It makes the day, bright and cheery.

But never trust your neighbors, because you never really know who they are. The two-faces of the sun prove this beyond any inkling of a doubt. The weather aka the sun, in Chennai is actually the Grand Master of the Evil League of Evil (screw that dead horse or whatever guy). His life goal is to kill us with his intense bone scorching hotter than hell power. His militant, out of control, fuck you!, tyranny turns the otherwise happy, pleasant, sometimes even cultured people into well...Chennaiites - the summer edition. When he finds out that the more fortunate ones indulge in a mass exodus to saner places like Bangalore or Ooty, he burns even more wrathfully. The ones left in the city, well I fortunately don't know what happens to them, I tend to head the mass exodus.

But evil aside, I'm glad we live in Bangalore, where the weather is happy. And it likes me (the climactic pattern of Karnataka was created solely out of deference to me, of course). And it understands the concept of benign and indifference.

:)

On another note, we're MOVING!

The movers are here.

Ironically, despite all our cross-contiental moves - I was almost never around for the put your life and comfort zone in cold, dark, dank cardboard boxes and have them carted away by strange muscle men part of it. I'm afraid I'm not a fan. Especially when they put my books away; I really don't like. I can here them taping up boxes and sliding it across the floor as we...write. To that place. That commune of people in big shiny houses who seem more than a little out of touch with reality. (Because I'm so in tune :) )

On that note, I must go. Life supercedes this blog. Showers and other hygeine matters call. And if I am not careful, all my stuff may disappear, so I really should go now.

A Great Album

I just realized that I've never paid tribute to one of my favorite albums of all time. In Reverie by the Princeton, New Jersey band Saves the Day.

For those of you who keep up with latest releases, this album is old news. Released in 2003, people. But of course, great music is timeless.

Saves the Day has a sound that is truly, for lack of a better word, unique. I really haven't heard anything like them, and I've got quite an eclectic taste. On first listen, the lead singer's voice may seem nasal and puerile; the music - simplistic, poppy and unsophisticated. Its very likely that you will be tempted to write them off, as I did, as a group of uninspired teenagers with nothing to sing about and nothing worthwhile to offer.

These guys however, are the case to prove the point that first impressions are not everything. Oh no, not at all. You'll find yourself walking along the streets of wherever you live, humming their music. For no apparent reason. I'm not talking about stuck-in-my-head in the annoying, slightly embarrassing way that Britney Spears songs tend to get stuck, but in a way that creates a need for more.

And if you are the slightest bit enlightened, you'll go back and take a second listen, then maybe a third. If you still don't get it by that point, then keep trying, but not too hard. Music is supposed to be fun and personal after all. There's no point looking for something when your musical judgment may just be woefully inadequate.

What I hear in this album are lyrics so poetic, yet so simplistic, that they're beautiful without being out of reach. Layers upon layers of instrumentals - something new every time you listen. This music is malleable. It changes with your mood.

I can't get over the light/dark imagery. I'm a sucker for juxtaposition. Especially when despite the differences, there is a confluence, an entwining. A syzygy (the conjunction of two things without the loss of identity).Violent words and hyperbole, contrasted with gentle music and delivery - it gives me the chills.

The music really does put you In Reverie.

If anyone has given it a listen, let me know what you think!

Bitching - Read at Your Risk

Of late, its become exceedingly hard to blog.

The utter deterioration of my writing skills aside, I'm held back by a desire to uninhibitedly bare all, the need to keep myself at a healthy distance, and an irrational fear of grammatical errors. My backspace key might go into overuse exhaustion.

When did expression become so difficult?

Probably around the time I decided (yet again) that the only things that were constant enough to deserve my attention were books and music.

Its wonderful, yes, to listen to music and immerse yourself in another person's expression. There really isn't anything as pure, as untarnished as a good piece of music. Words don't match up for the simple reason that more than half the time, and perhaps this is my migraine talking, they are not sincere. A majority of conversations, are crap. Action is important. Words really don't mean much.

And at the end of the day, expressing yourself is the most important thing. Because if you can't do it adequately, you'll never lose that sense of isolation, nor will those around you.

I don't know if this makes sense beyond a teenager -esque angsty ramble, but its coming from somewhere obviously. Perhaps I should tap into that place.

On another note, the Cherry Tree at our soon to be home is now my favorite spot. Sitting there this morning, eating cherries and reading a book, was relaxing to a great degree.

I'm tired. I'm confused. I can't remember any....words.

Blast from the Past

English Period 8
December 2, 1999
Memory Narrative Final Draft

The Horrors of Automatic Lock Cars

Imagine coming back from a party, on a cold, dark night as a young child. Imagine how frightening it could be to be left in the car. That, is what happened to me on a cold, dark night, when I was young child.

I was five years old, a shy, and soft-spoken little girl. While my aunt was getting out of the car, I tried to tell her to unlock the door for me. But unfortunately, she and my cousin stepped out the door, with all the remnants of the party and somehow, forgot me in the car.

At first, I thought they were just going to step out and then help me out. By the time I realized that they had forgotten me, they were up the blacktop driveway and going through their white, garage door. As small as I was, I knew that all I had to do was undo the lock, and step out the door. But that day, luck was against me. My cousins had a blue Volvo where the doors opened only if the engine was on. Only then, did I realize that I could be stuck there the whole entire night.

I sat there in the pitch-black darkness, listening to the silence, The skinny, bony, skeleton-like branches seemed to be monsters hearing the insects buzz, and smelling the cooking from inside the house, and other figments of my imagination creeping towards me. Then, I started to cry. I was truly afraid, for the first time I remember. After crying for a while, I somehow, pulled myself together, and between sniffles tried to think. The warm, lights in the house somehow gave me courage, and hope. I could feel my heart beating, and heard the occasional roar of a motor, on the road. Suddenly, I had a great idea.

In my own car, I used to sometimes climb in and out of the window just for fun. If I could do the same thing here, then I would be free. I tried to find the window operator, but it was too dark. I almost gave up in despair. Then, I saw a figure walking towards me. I was so happy, I wanted to scream with joy, almost immediately, the figure slowly looked around, and not seeing me in the car turned around and went slowly back into the house.

Finally, my head hit something on the ceiling and the light in the car turned on. But as I said, luck was really against me that day and the window opener was the kind that opened only with the engine on. After waiting in tears for what seemed like eternity: I saw my father walking down towards me. I was so happy. My dad opened the door, and I ran out to him in delight. After that, we walked into the house where I could smell delicious food cooking, and the merry laugh of my family.

After that day, I was a lot less shy. I also decided I did not like Volvos. This silly event will always stay in my mind. Nowadays, if I were that quiet I would be eating, drinking, and sleeping in cars.

(Not) Deja Vu and other Thoughts

• First off, why would a person you haven't spoken to in over 10 years Facebook fling a cupcake at you? I'd be the first to get involved in a messy online food fight, but 10 years, no word and then, arbitrarilly, you get creamed with an "irish cupcake"? Not once, but repeatedly. What the hell?
• I can't seem to see too well. Shit.
  
• Still searching for that genre of music that has the soul of blues without losing the rawness of rock - yet to find it
• Liking Dr.Dog - The Beach courtesy LastFm. Scratch that. Loving it.
  

Reread the first page of Their Eyes Were Watching God for the first time since summer reading before sophomore year i.e. high school. I vividly remember painfully plodding through the pages, driven only by the fact that it was summer, too hot to move and American Studies was supposed to the hardest class in high school. I hated that book.

Today, I found myself in a similar situation, minus American Studies, and I opened up the book again. Heres the first paragraph.

"Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men."

What I glanced over once now has so much more meaning. I couldn't express it better myself. And it saddens me that this paragraph means something to me now. Not that I've had a life of hardship to have a right to such a bleak outlook. But really, sometimes, it just seems like a war of attrition.

Zora Neale Hurston then goes on to say,

"Now, women forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly."

I'm not comfortable with generalizations, but I suppose I've seen a lot of people, particularly women who live life this way. Some would call it hope or faith. I guess you could celebrate it to that level and label it that way, but its essentially just a construct, a filter of viewing the world that works for you. (The truth is unchanged, regardless of what you want, which is why its the truth.)

I do this, I think. It helps things. I'm not really a stand-on-the-shore-and-watch-the-damn-ship-sail-around kind of a girl. But my problem I think, is that I can't ever totally forget the things I don't want to remember. If something happened to you or around you, how can you? Empirical evidence can't be surmounted. Even by delusions. (Well not mine, they're not powerful enough. Maybe I should work on that :P . Because I certainly don't want to be sitting dejectedly on the shore and allow time to mock me. Screw time. "There is no fate that can't be surmounted by scorn." Camus was kind of an idiot, but he made sense.) So, while I am aware what is really going on, I keep trying to surmount it in a way. OMG! The Myth of Sisyphis again.

You know what, I'm going to stop now. Because it seems like all roads are leading to the same thing again. Things are a certain way, take it, or throw it in the dealers face and live your own truth.

Feeling empowered.

Apta

Some Aftershocks

• I don't like or understand varicose veins. I've gotten so used to the direction and dynamics of arterial flow that when they throw veins at me, my mind refuses to accept them. Venous drainage is muy importante APTA! I wish someone would drill that into my head. And its so strange that abnormal dilated tortuous veins, something that seems just unsightly can cause such serious problems.
  
• I also dislike hernias. Its as though the body is just giving up on you. The rectus abdominis has a purpose. Like, do your damn job already. Also, the pathophysiology seems kind of vague. I wonder if they delineated the etiology based on statistical studies or based on actual experimentation. I don't know. I just don't like them.
  
• For some odd reason, oncology has always made perfect sense to me. From an academic persepective they are fascinating. Unfortunately, they don't stay in that realm.
  
• I need to see more patients. Understand and speak more Tamil. I've been here for almost 4 years now, saying I don't understand when these people have a problem is starting to sound like a pretty lame excuse, especially since I want to stay for CRRI. Ok, more random conversations and awkward silences it is. :/
• And I need to read Bailey more often. Its really a very good book.
• And Ireland seems to have produced a lot of very good blues guitarists. From Lastfming, it seems to be that way.
  

More Later. Maybe.

New Year Etc

It seems that I've somehow managed to make it to the age of 21, the year 2009 and final year of medical school.

Well Done Me.

Music

If you're looking for some lighthearted, almost-but-not-quite-pop rock that's not your run of the mill, overproduced, bullshit - look no further - The Kooks are your answer.

There lyrics are sometimes too saccharine so a Kooks OD is a little dangerous; but thankfully its not Celine Dion singing or you'd definitely feel a sudden rush of vomit.

But overall, if you want happy music - this is an option.

Sway
The Kooks

Say whatever you have to say, I'll stand by you.
Do whatever you have to do, to get it out and not become a reactionary
To hurt the ones you love you know you never meant to but you do
oh yeah you do

Be whoever you have to be, I won't judge you
Sing whatever you have to sing to get it out and not become a recluse about how to come out
I know you never meant to but you do
oh but you do

Still I need your sway, because you always pay for it
And I, and I need your soul because your always soulful
And I and I need your heart, because your always in the right places

And take whatever you have to take, you know I love ya
come however you have to come, and get it out and get it out

Tttttake it out on me, take it out on me
I'll give it you all, I give it you all,i give it
I give you all I give it you all, yes I will give it you all

Cause I need your sway, because you always pay for it
And I, and I need your soul because your always soulful
And I and I need your heart, because your always in the right places

Oh yes I will, I will give it you all

Still I need your sway, because you always pay for it
And I, and I need your soul because your always soulful
And I and I need that heart, because your always in the right place