I have indulged in many experiences that qualify as eccentric, unconventional or crazy. My choices were often unconventional. When I look back at the things I did, the choices I made, and the decisions I took, I often wonder why things took the route that they did. I ask the questions that Shekhar Kapur asks of himself in a podcast. Was it my desire, my will? Or was it the desire and will of the situation that I found myself in? Was it the desire and will of the universe, the life force? Or was it the desire of desire in itself…the will of will in itself? That makes me imagine myself as a desire, a will, a figment. A soul with a body, and not a body with a soul. A soul that is desire and will. A soul that is motivation. A motivation that has the inherent power to move us towards something.
When I was in kindergarten, I would sneak out from my classroom to catch a glimpse of the train chugging along majestically through the tunnel in the woods, its metallic wheels clanking against the tracks, echoing in my ears. I do not know why I was overpowered by the desire to witness this sight day after day. In my young mind, the train was an enigma- a magical creature that moved like a giant serpent through the tracks nestled in the hills, taking people to some faraway land. The train had made the impossible, possible. This indulgence was put to an end by my teachers who caught me on this escapade, and reported it to my parents. But I had already executed my will.
When I was about twelve, I remember how I wrote to kids in countries I had only heard about, merely because the idea of pen friends fascinated me. I loved the idea of writing to people different from me, living in places different from mine, and communicating across the barriers of space and culture. To me, that was magical. For a brief span of time, children from Bhutan, Finland, and Africa, who had never met each other in person, were frantically writing letters to each other. I wonder whose will that was.
When I was in class 12, an unprecedented thought came to my mind- I did not want to take the exams that year. Instead, I decided to take an year off, study hard, and then take the exams. However, it was my chemistry teacher who talked me out of it. I relented, and took the exams on time. Whose will was that? It was not mine. But was it my teacher’s will? Or was it the will of the universe?
When I wrote the entrance exams, I was eager to follow my brother’s footsteps. I preferred a career in engineering to a career in Medicine. However, I messed up the Math paper. When I was taking the Biology exam, I realized that I would score well. I started to deliberately mess up my paper, simply because I couldn’t see myself getting into Medicine. However, I had a sudden surge of guilt. I decided to be authentic, and leave the outcome to destiny. I was surprised when the results came out and I found out that I had made it into MBBS. Whose will was it?
In the first year of my MBBS, I discovered that I was failing miserably in most of my exams. I started believing that Medicine was not for me. I talked to my parents about dropping out of the course. My parents agreed, but they encouraged me to quit the course after my foundation year exams. It didn’t matter if I passed or failed. That put me at ease, and I prepared to fail. However, we had a new Physiology professor step in, and I had a major perspective shift. He inspired me and taught me how to think. He introduced us to Guyton, and I fell in love with Physiology. He also asked us to read Erich Segal’s ‘Doctors‘ and watch the movie ‘Patch Adams‘. All of this had a life-changing impact on me. I transformed as a person, and by the end of that year, I was a medical student who was in love with Medicine. Whose desire, whose will was it? Who was it who steered me back into Medicine when I had almost given up?
After the passionate years as a medical student in an institution where there were many role models, I was disappointed by what awaited me in the world of work. Perhaps, if I had worked under one of my professors for some time, I might have tapped into their experience and wisdom, and learnt to derive satisfaction from the practice of Medicine. However, I decided to follow my peers and move to the UK.
Clinical experience in the UK did not nurture my love for medical practice, but it provided me valuable insights into certain aspects of my personality that I wanted to develop. I discovered that I had an inclination and aptitude for teaching, discourse, critical thinking and writing. At a time when I did not know if I ought to continue my career in the UK or return home to my parents who were now struggling with health concerns, I returned, feeling very empowered, simply because travel had broadened the horizons of my mind. Whose will was that?
I returned not to Bangalore, but to Kerala. Life in Bangalore and in the UK had given me exposure to diverse experiences, but had not prepared me for life in Kerala. Also, I had no career goal because this part of Kerala had nothing to offer. Fortunately, there was a new medical college coming up, and I started working. It was here that one of my colleagues advised me to pursue a Master’s in Physiology because she had witnessed my passion for teaching. That is exactly what I did, even though I had to take a long journey to get to that.
But my story does not end there. I wandered from teaching to medical writing, and finally to psychology, where I have decided to spend time. At every juncture, there was somebody to instill a thought into my mind and seed a desire. Sometimes, real people. Sometimes, the work of people I had never met. Cinema, for instance, was the first inspiration that steered me toward psychology. Psychology, for some strange reason, feels like my natural destiny. To be a psychologist, is to be in my own skin. And yet, I can say with conviction that I would not become this version of a psychologist if any of my experiences had been taken away from this journey. Every experience added to the journey; every experience was relevant to the subsequent journey.
What I have narrated so far is the story of my professional journey. My personal life has also been unconventional. I loved and cherished people. I valued intimacy over and above ambition or success. When I was in my teens, there was nothing that I wanted more than to settle down to the ordinary pattern of a family life. I did not want to be burdened with the business of life. Just as Shekhar Kapur elaborates, all I wanted was somebody who would hold my hand, and somebody who would worry about me. I liked being parented, and as long as I could feel the love and affection, I did not mind the squabbles. But it turned out that I am single. It wasn’t that I did not try getting married, but every time I tried, my natural destiny led me away from it. Whose will was that?
I learnt to accept my destiny, and I learnt to fill up my loneliness with meaning. Meaning that I created by consuming knowledge, treating myself to experiences, interpreting my experiences in my writings, being valuable in my relationships with people, facilitating people in their own journeys, engaging with nature, and so much more. Yet, I must admit that there are aspects that remain unresolved. On some days, when I drive back home, I am grateful that I have my mother waiting for me. I am grateful that there is somebody who worries about me, and who checks on me. It is certainly not easy when such a person does not exist in your life. Also, freedom comes with responsibility. You have to always walk a step ahead of life, in order to be prepared for the worst. You have to build skills that you otherwise wouldn’t worry about. For instance, when you are ill, instead of just submitting to the illness, you have to motivate yourself to make decisions, you have to figure out what you can still do in order to pull through the crisis, and you have to accept the fact that you are alone in your illness. My only consolation is that the greater will that has driven my life so far, will continue to propel me forward.
As for writing, should I consider it a part of my personal journey or a part of my professional journey? Writing, to me, is a very personal affair. Writing is perhaps my strongest desire. But the truth is that I never aspired to be a writer; I had no clue that my personality was that of a writer. I was a shy and self-conscious writer when I started, but my fellow-bloggers gave me enough confidence to write in the early days of blogging. It took me many years to come out of hiding and own my love for writing. When I published my first book, I had no clue what it meant to be an author. Whose desire was it that made me an author? To this day, I do not know if I am a good author. All I know is that I cannot live without writing.
If our lives are the outcome of a collective will, then as Shekhar Kapur rightly said, the only way to live life is to live with passion and do things with devotion. To stay true to our intrinsic motivation– that is the only rule that we must abide by. The motto of life is not to become successful, but to become a work of art. We must learn to cultivate a reverence for the life that throbs within us. The only proof that we have lived, is the imprint we leave behind- in our conversations, our writings, our work, our impact on people’s minds and lives.
It's all in the Mind. 