Half Century amidst Centuries Old

Another year is coming to an end. With it, another decade of my life is coming to an end. My fiftieth birthday is just a few days away. I am not a planner. I did not quite chalk out what are the milestones I need to hit by the time I become fifty. But I think everyone has an inner sense of whether they are more or less hitting the mark or falling far behind. I must say I am pleasantly surprised to discover that even after spending five decades on earth, even after knowing up close and personal what loss is, even after having a brush with serious threat to health, I can look forward to the upcoming chapter as a yet-unknown adventure, which might be even better than what I have experienced thus far.

In 2022, the world has largely come out of its shell after two years of COVID closure. It was a struggle initially to re-embrace the post-pandemic "normalcy". The unexpected perks of pandemic--if you survived it--were precious. During the pandemic, you had the license to bathe in nostalgia. You had to learn how to look inwards rather than looking for stimulus outside. You felt good about reaching out without hesitation. You had the urge to share and the world had the time to listen. I remember I wrote so much in 2020! It slowed down in 2021, and quite unbelievably it almost stopped in 2022. This is only my second blog this year. I guess as everyone learnt to adjust to the pandemic, even objectively blog-worthy topics remained unchronicled. So here's my last-ditch attempt to capture "a moment of high" before 2022 fleets by.

Yesterday when I was scaling the steps of the Ranakpur Jain temple near Udaipur in the Western State of Rajasthan in India, a sudden jolt of emotion hit me. I am not that religious, but I silently shed tears of joy to be able to witness and soak in the intricacy and splendor of fifteenth century marble sculpting that showcases ancient India. 

That moment made me realize that personally the happiest achievement for me in 2022 is to get a handle on my health. After the rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis in May 2021, I was shaken to my core and struggled to envision a future full of physical freedom. Thanks to the relentless believers in my support system, some quiet and some vocal, now I find myself playing tennis and traveling continents. Inside the Ranakpur temple, yesterday I found my mind dreaming of scaling Machu Picchu to see the Inca citadel in Peru sometime in near future. I have harbored that dream since my childhood since I read about it in the Adventures of Tintin comic books. But I am a realist and since the scare last year, I couldn't give myself permission to dream of big travels until I could prove it to myself that my body is ready for the rigor. And I think I am ready.

India does this to my soul every time I visit. I feel proud to have been born here. I feel overjoyed when my son also feels the vibes of India. Yes it is dusty and overcrowded, but it is also authentic, pragmatic and gives one a huge sense on continuity---from the ancient grandeur to the modern ambition. I am fortunate to be able to step into a new chapter of my life while visiting India with family.

The name of this blog is "Detritus." The word itself evokes the image of ruins and in my mind it signifies emergence from the ruins too. While visiting the centuries old ruins of the Chittorgarh fort, two hours from Udaipur, I kept thinking how apt the lyrics of that famous song from the movie "Guide" (1965) are--"Aaj Phir Jeene Ki Tamanna Hai" (thematically translates to "My soul has awakened again.") The song was picturized at Chittorgarh. Art imitates life and life imitates art in the detritus of Rajasthan!!

Spring Cleaning

Sometimes spring cleaning starts at 6 pm on a Friday afternoon when you realize that you have met your monthly client-billable goal (I am a patent lawyer) and work will not have to spill into your weekend. Sometimes you feel so light after throwing away all the garbage that were covering the floor of your home office for the last two years, that you feel like writing a blog---the first one of this year.

 

For some reason, today I am in a nostalgic mood. The nostalgia triggered when I took a bite into the perfectly ripened loquats plucked from the neighborhood tree while walking the dog. This year’s spring has been delayed. I can tell because the loquats were ripened much earlier in Spring 2020 when we were first learning to work from home. Between me, my husband and our son, the poor dog used to have to walk miles during the day, because none of us is a smoker, but we needed the proverbial “smoking break” to de-stress, and dog walking was our excuse to get some fresh air in the middle of the day.

 

The transition to work from home was not easy for me. I was the type who would drive to work five days a week even when others were uncomfortable going to office with the COVID news spreading gradually in February-March 2020 time frame. My excuses were varied-- “I get to listen to my audiobooks if I drive to work,” “I need hard copies to effectively read a reference and the office printer is so much faster than my home printer!” “I can close the door of the office room and protect myself from the spread of virus,” “If it were that bad, then the Government would mandate office closure.” Well, eventually the Government did, and in a fit of panic, I carried a lot of work materials, mostly stacks of printed references for my various patent cases, to home, thinking I would not be able to print that many pages at home. They took up a good part of the floor in my home office. Luckily I was the first one to occupy the room set up as home office, so my husband reluctantly but graciously set up his home office in the guest room across the corridor. His “office” always looked cleaner than mine. He was already mostly paperless. But I guess I am different. It takes a pandemic to finally transform me into a true paperless person. Always loved the trees. Now I get to walk the walk.

 

Still, not adding new printed material is not the same as having the “courage” to decide to throw the existing printed materials away. My attitude was that if I had decided to print them at some point, they must have been important, and how can I throw away important stuff? What if I need them again in future? So let them sit on my floor. And sit they did for two years. Mostly untouched. Radiating the intangible perceived gravitas of “important enough not to throw away.”

 

It must be the perfection of the loquat that instantly took me back to the dog walk days of March 2020 and epiphany struck—now that we are required to go to office three or more days a week, am I going to carry all those materials back to office again to repopulate the shelves? The answer was clear as daylight. And by the end of the day I can again see the hardwood floor of my home office. Cleaner office. Lighter soul. And a blog after six months. Triple crown to start the weekend on the right note. What can be better!