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The Making of a Dumb Datum

Imagine 10,000 years in the future. Two archaeologists are digging a site, and they find the remains of human bones. They take those remains to the lab, perform tests on them, and try to reconstruct the habits and lifestyle of that human. Say those bones belong to me. They are trying to find out my story, how I lived, what I ate, where I traveled, etc. Once they find all the info they need, they toss it into a museum where they store all other such ancient human remains they find. I was essentially one data point to them in trying to understand how humanity evolved over time. Or I can also call myself a “datum”, the singular form of data, literally one piece of information to solve a bigger puzzle. Honestly, I don’t need 10,000 years to become a datum. I am already a part of several datasets people use these days to study many things. So for that objective learner, I am already a datum. Now let me get to how I got the dumb part of it. I have had an interesting and eventful life so far...
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Beauty and Terror

 I have always been someone who is capable of experiencing life profoundly. That is what made me a writer in the first place, and it also enables me to connect with people at a deeper level. But this also has some side effects. For example, I always felt a roller coaster of intense emotions at a higher rate than other organized adults. This eternally running roller coaster taught me that the highs of life – love, laughter, safety and pleasure, can be fleeting and are immediately followed by crushing lows – heartbreak, tears, fears, and pain. So, I am fiercely protective of all the good and beautiful moments of life, and have difficulty letting them go easily. Yet it is a great irony that the number of things I had to let go in the 28 years of my life so far is greater than the number of things I could hold on to. So, maybe life is not supposed to be this battle between the acts of holding on and letting go. Then what exactly is life supposed to be? I am not sure. I am still you...
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A Man from Guatemala

I was feeling slightly worse today, and as if to add to it, the air conditioning in my apartment stopped working. I was internally like “great, one more worry for me to handle now.” I put up a maintenance request with my apartment management – “AC stopped working, it’s getting hot in here, por favor SEND HELP!”, and they sent help. A short man with a weary face but an innocent child-like smile knocked on my front door. In broken English, he communicated that he was there to install a temporary window AC for tonight. I was like “alright, come on in.” He installed it, and while leaving, he stopped in my living room and glanced at something. To be honest, my living room is full of clutter lately, with books and sticky notes spread everywhere. I was curious to see if he’d react, and then he reacted, but his reaction was unexpected - he asked me where I was from. I replied “I am from India, what about you?”, and he said something that I couldn’t quite understand. Took me 3-4 repetitions f...
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The Future, The Past and The Present

I got back into reading stoic philosophy lately, and it helped me realize an interesting fallacy of my brain. If I think of my brain as an optimization solver, its objective function is to maximize my chances of survival. Time flows in three distinct categories of past, present and future, so my brain applies a separate logic to each of them. Future is considered as the most important piece, primarily because main objective is to see as much of future I can. Therefore, in a particular day, most of the thoughts and emotions generated are about how I can conserve my future. Naturally this means, present and past are relegated to play supporting roles. For example, two main concerns of my future are how my career will pan out (considering the changes in tech due to AI and a fickle visa situation), and if I will be alone for the rest of my life. Most of my present is muddled by the worries about these concerns, which are not in my control. Past is a whole different story, because while...
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Courage the Cowardly Dog

My brain sometimes generates these ideas that I don’t quite know what to make of. For example, two weeks ago it came up with this masterpiece of “what if I try to attempt two back-to-back 50 mile running weeks?” It’s a stretch considering my running fitness at that time, and if I had thought about how I only ever ran a 50-mile week once in the past, which had me limping for two days straight, it wouldn’t have filled me with any confidence. But it’s a good thing I sometimes don’t think. The first week somehow went by in a blur and I managed to hit the 50-mile target. I also managed to give my left foot a nice, round and ugly blister. Honestly, I had a lot of emotions and thoughts going on during this week that my brain hardly registered the effort and the formation of a blister. My long run for the first week was 18 miles, 14 of which I ran with my marathon training group in perfect silence, so it didn’t feel like a crazy week after all. After my last run of the first week, I went t...
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The Comeback Kid

My day started pretty normal today. I didn’t want to wake up as usual, but forced myself to, because a certain someone decided to make his life complicated by deciding on an ambitious marathon goal. I went for a 7-mile run and my legs were still feeling the 50 miles I ran last week, but little do they know that this week I am taking them to a never-experienced-before 52-mile territory. Once I returned home from this run, my entire body just wanted to shut off and not move an inch. Maybe because it knew I had a long day ahead. Today I had to attend the UTD career fair as a recruiter. This meant I will be passing through the streets of Richardson and a few walk ways in the campus where my brain made some memories. These are good memories, but they weigh a bit heavily for now due to the conclusion. I had a full-blown panic attack yesterday about this career fair (which is weird because I never dreaded these when I was a student). But I told myself that this is a difficult situation I ...
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Atom

Lately when I am overwhelmed, I start thinking about how we’re all made up of tiny atoms, and how atoms are mostly hollow except for one dense nucleus in their centers, and how if an atom were size of a cathedral, nucleus will be the size of a tiny fly, and how this tiny fly is so dense that it makes up the entire weight of cathedral, where as cathedral itself has no self weight, and I say to my brain that all of this makes no fucking sense, and my brain says “nothing in this world makes sense, so stop overthinking and just go to sleep”, and I say “but this is 9 am in the morning”, but my brain is asleep already
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Fly

Whenever I hit the rock bottom, I am quick to blame gravity. I say things like "look at this stupid gravitational force always dragging me down mercilessly while I am trying hard to fly." I also blame Newton and his apple, as if there was no gravity in this universe before that apple hit Newton's head. But if I just for a moment chill out, and stop trying to find who's to blame, I may say things like "jeez, what if gravity is not the pulling force I imagined it as? What if it's just rock bottom accelerating up and catching upto my feet that feels like something dragging me down?" If this is true, then it means I am not actually losing the progress I made with flying everytime my feet hit that rock bottom. It's just gravity being annoying and tricking me into believing that I am a lost cause. So, I guess I should keep trying to fly. 
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