They are back ...

Remember my post about the illusion of stasis - that nostalgia tinged email about how wonderful it is to teach and see 'the kids' move on as we grayed over the years!!!

Well, yesterday while driving across the bridge we were accosted by this:



You guessed it! The students are back - new school year starts next week.

This is orientation week, so the entire town is full of fresh faced 18-year olds with a flock of over engaged parents in tow!!! This means that we have to cross the bridge and go to strange out of the way restaurants to escape from the flood of said parents and freshers.

New school year is upon us. I am teaching two senior classes this semester and advising three graduate students. Then of course there is the usually slew of proposals, papers etc.

Cynicism besides, I must say the excitement in the air is exhilarating and the energy is difficult to ignore :)

Expectation

There was a time back in grad school when having hit a few dead ends and hurt, I took stock of my life. It involved a process of winnowing away all in-essentials from my life laying bare the valuable - and focusing on each of those aspects. Akin to removing the weeds from the flower beds so they don't crowd out the flowering plants. I referred to the process as my quarter life crisis.

It had various outcomes - but most important of all - it taught me to value and nurture what I had and lower my expectations. Rather than crowding the flower bed with more plants, allowing each of the plants to bloom.

Its been 7 years since this process. Once again I find myself at another critical point - and the urge to winnow is coming on again. Though this time around I think the theme is: Expect Less, Love More.

Till I read recently completed reading Lay That Trumpet in Our Hands.

Its a beautifully written account of a progressive white family's resistance to the KKK's in the early 1950s, in Central Florida. Touching on real historical events, part imagined and mostly biographical, the book is narrated by a 14 year old girl who captures the racial tensions of the times, her father's idealism and a touching portrait of personal loss.

While justice is the point of the story - it is overshadowed by the immediacy of the human stories and the intimacy of the narrative. (There are time when you can smell the orange blossoms). Justice is regarded as an abstract idea, rather than as a reparative act. Initially, the book left me feeling disturbed because the story did not meet out the justice that the underlying ideals promised. Of course, the author remained loyal to the historical context of the time and so I am not complaining. No - I wasn't looking for a HollyBollywood ending. What was bothering me was the brutal reality of the story - that the people who fought the bitter battles could not expect the justice they deserved and dedicated their lives to. But after mulling over it for a while, and with the advantage of a historical perspective, I realized that the struggles outlined in the book were indeed the seeds that laid the ground for MLK and his ilk.

It reminded me of this line I read somewhere (can't remember): The arc of the universe bends towards justice - however long.

The question then is - when is it all right to expect gratification from life? Or should we live in faith - like the people who died with a brave prayer of hope, without ever bearing the fruits of their labor? And isn't that the most difficult act of love?

So I say: Expect Less, Love More, Have Faith.

[Choose your article of faith :) ]

My vacation week ...

This is officially my "Vacation week" - 2nd week in August, 2 weeks before classes start. (Officially called the calm before the storm!)

I am not visiting anywhere (Thank you - I travel enough for business) - the idea of waking up late and flopping around the house doesn't particularly appeal to me either. So this vacation week effectively becomes - leaving work before 5pm (OK! 4:00pm)!! It may sound pathetic, but I find it really relaxing to go to work and leave before 5pm. I do not having to worry about any deadlines, or feel the chill of guilt that invariably settles in when I don't work for longer than a day.

Also - after I leave work at 5pm, I take my dogs for a walk in the woods. This is the favorite part of my vacation. Bert and Ernie look forward to me coming home. They start jumping up and down (believe me its a site to watch!) when they see my car pulling in. I usually sit in the drive way for a few minutes just to get them even more excited from anticipation - and then they hop into the back seat and off we go to the trails. I use this opportunity to catch up on Podcasts of 'This American Life' and 'Selected Shorts' - two of my favorite radio programs. Bert and Ernie run along ahead - Ernie insists on leading the way - poor Bert tries to keep up with him, but half way through the trail, encumbered by his ample belly, he usually falls back!

One of the joys of a Northern summer is that the sun sets very late (its usually dusk as late as 11pm in mid July) - that leaves an ample evening ahead. I cooked last night (chiken chaap, matar paneer and dal fry) - and we grilled the night before. So tonight I decided to sit on the deck and sip my gin & tonic while enjoying the vibrant evening.

Summer evenings are full of unseen activity. The wind rustling through the leaves, a rodent scampering away into the bushes in the far corner of the yard (inviting a growl from Bert and a look of annoyance from Ernie!), the smell of grilled meat and vegetables wafting in from a neighbor's yard, voices, a couple walking down the street wheeling a stroller (or two), the sun playfully bouncing off the surface of my drink and glinting at me through the glass ... I close my eyes and let it all flow around me, enjoying the activity - feeling like a rock in a fast flowing river! And then a bug bites me!! Splat! Summer :)

Ironically, August is the busiest month for T' - so he is back home around 8pm. After dinner we usually settle down in front of the TV - and now as I blog, he is editing some stuff on his laptop, while Bert and Ernie are watching TV. As I look out of the window, I see the dark silhouette of the maple tree in our backyard gently swaying in the pink and blue smear of dusk.

Dusk is my favorite part of summer. She slips into the evening and melts into the short night - you never know the exact moment that marks her arrival or her departure. The short soothing reprieve between the activity of the evening and the Milky-Way splattered silence of night.

Another thing about vacation - blogging without caring about tense, spelling, coherence ...