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| Seems an odd thing to say after 4 yrs of rigorously working my butt off
to make those grades look good... so that I could get a job and get a
life.... or perhaps get into grad school. I didn't know what I was
working for, but I knew I must strive to do well. To aspire to excel.
Well. Now I'm at the end of it all. A month and a half is all to the
culmination of my extended childhood, the end of carefree life, and the
end of another phase of my (and a lot of my friends') life.
And I dont mean to sound so .... ominous. No negative feelings here.
But I'm taking an interesting mix of classes this semester and between
thinking of 'samudhaya' or desire as the root of suffering (Reli 101)
and questioning rationality itself (Public Speaking), the end of this
year, perhaps appropriately, is laced with philosophical thoughts. And
one perticular one has been incubating within the walls of my mind for
a while now, and I feel like sharing. And this forum of a blog lends me
the wonderful qualtiy that no one can refute my words, at least, with
much immediacy. :P
So this is something I've talked to a couple people about, and I was
suprised to see that the author, Robert M. Pirsig, agreed iwth me in
his "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle maintanance". Well sort of agreed,
more like, overlapped as far as subject matter went. It talks about a
professor who claims that he conducts his class...from beginning to
end, without assigning any grades. He sees that at first people are
resentful to this idea. Then the A students (from previous performance)
start to get nervous and start asking for grades. Seeing that they
aren't getting any asnwers, they give up and start participating in
class, with more interest and less worry about grades - since they
can't do much about the situation anyway. Then the B students try
catching up wtih the A students, and start handing in good work too.
The C-D students start showing up in class since they get
worried...etc. Finally he conducts a survey about what they thought of
the no-grades policy. It turns out that the top students like it
mostly, the middle feel 50/50 about it, and the D-F students hate it.
And the authors theory says that the A students , probably cuz of
interest in the actual subject matter, are actually least
grade-oriented, and the D-F students most grade-oriented since it
allows them to know if they are getting by.
I dont have much to say about Pirsig's ideas - i think they speak for
themselves. But its an intersting one, and I have my own theory about
this grade concept. I believe that in college at least, u can chose to
learn because u want to learn, or learn because u want grades. They
aren't mutually exclusive of course, there is significant overlap
between the two. But eventually, you have to pick one, decide what you
want. And in the end you'll see that the method of studying and
leraning is entirely different. If you go around tommorow and look at
ur friends, you might even be able to classify them into one of the
two. The 'grades students' turn in assignments on time, study hard, get
good grades. But I find that usually, there is a lack of passion there.
Perhaps it is days and days of little sleep and too much work that
shows in this trait. I'm not sure. I don't mean to criticize or put
anyone down either - i'll freely admit that I fall very much into this
catagory. the other group - the learning group - is the educational
ideal. They learn because they love the subject, they are passionate
about what they read and do. They learn for the sake of understanding
the puzzle that lies before them , inviting them to solve it. But I
could easily see why thier grades may not be good. So suppose a piece
of this puzzle doesn' interest you... what do you do wtih it? If you
were grade-oriented, you study it - for , anything can show up on a
test. But if u arent - if you are here to learn and not for a paper
degree nad 4.0 gpa - you throw it out. I can imagine the attitude - I
don't like this method and it is irrelavent to what i will do in the
future. So why should I invest time in it? I admire this attitude -
there is some unadulterated confidence and passion here that I wish i
possessed. And I dont know if this section of ppl exist -- it is
perhaps my own imagination of what I wish I could be and do. Yet a part
of my brian tells me, in a defeated, pragmatic voice - "Veena, it isn't
practical. Grades matter, after all".
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| As I listened to my aunts memories of younger days, I
couldn't’t help feeling a surge of sadness. Her recounting a memory where face
powder would only be given to the girls of the family on special occasions.
Them walking two steps into the water pool near their house as they fought
over fruits drifting down from shedding plants. Or their scramble to pick fresh
naga-pazhams from trees, fresh. That life sounds so much more romantic than
picking through the supply at fiesta or target. It might have been an age of
strict gender roles (with which I completely disagree), strong dogmatic
beliefs, and lesser economic means. Nevertheless, the heart is not the house of
reason, and it surges at the mention of a simpler time. | | |
| People ask me if it was worth it for me to come here, to the US. Some
people say it has been a better education. Well, in one sense it's
definately true. I have learnt things I would not have in India. Not
those facts that remain in the confines of text and graphs. Those I
have, in all probability, learnt less of. I have also had less pure
fun. But I think thats a price one pays with independence.
Fun when you're independent is what you allow yourself to do. Fun when
you're not independent is what you do to break other people's rules.
The latter is a lot more amusing. And in that sense I've had a lot less
fun.
But I have grown. I've changed to realize that my personal ambitions
don't have to be dictated by those around me. What they will think and
do is immaterial -- they'll think one second, do the next, and
forget that I even existed in the third second. I'm not willing to live
my life based on the ephemeral thoughts of others. And I've also learnt
that my right could be your wrong and that's perfectly fine. The world
will function just fine as long as I don't try to convince you and you
me. Personal ambitions and rules shouldn't be imposed on the
community.
As I stare out now, out of my window at the blinking Houston sky, i
realize that time has passed too fast. Within a year I might be
somewhere completely different. After this year I don't believe I will
ever associate wtih such a diverse group... a group that enriches my
understanding and persective of the world. Also, people have changed,
and will keep changing.I've changed. I hope the change is not so
drastic that it will divorce them from me. Three and a half years in a
country that ... I never really imaged I'd come to. I mean, it was
always a posibility, but never did I believe I'd actually come. Not
untill the embassy granted me a visa and told me that I would infact,
be attending Rice University in Houston. Do I regret it..? No. I
believe (conveniently) that all that happens happesn for the good. And
it's a really easy one to believe...cuz I dont know what would have
happened if I had stayed in my dear Madras. It used to make me insanely
guilty that so mcuh money si being spent on my education. But recently
I've learnt to understand that money is a means to an end. Not an end
in itself. And I think, as long as I can function thinking that way....
I'll be happier.
And another thing. I just realized that my home in Madras will never be
home to me again. At least, not in the way it used to be. It will never
be a place I come to every afternoon or evening after a long day to
relax on the couch. It'll probably never even be the place I ask my
letters to be mailed. Sad thought. I'd really like to , at some point,
live there for a few months at a stretch. Before the age of 30 that is.
I hope it'll be this summer.
I'm not sure what I'm writing.. I'm just letting the words take me
where they want to go. I want to resume dance and music. That's
one thing I really want to do. I don't know how many of you know...but
I was far along in my dance lessons when I came here. I've had four
solo recitals, each about an hour and a half long. But indian classical
dance is almost a dying art. It's appreciated now mostly like the
relics in a museum rather than as a well-understood movie. Life has
become too fast to expect such sedentary, patient attention from an
audience. Or much of an audience that can grant you this kind of
attention.
I think I'll end now. It's time for me to move on, go do some work
(which I actually feel like doing, so I might as well make as much as I
can of the moment). Good night folks ... :) .
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| So , I was reading this note by someone I know on facebook ( damn thing
distracting me again! ), and though first when I read through the story
being narrated, it seemed normal to me, a few minutes later, it started
to mess with my mind. And I didn't know why. It ran through my head,
and I could tell there was some sort of discongruity between it and my
thoughts that was troubling me, a lot. And it took a while of mulling
over the details to finally settle onto what it was. So, before I lead
you through a two page blog about nothing except my reaction to a
alleged note that you have no clue about, here's a summary of the tale
I read. (And perahps the topic of religion has been scurrying about in
my mind for a bit, but anyway).
So, the story: A girl goes for her birthday party, and stays late. She
walks back home, and its dark. She takes a dark alley shortcut (bad
idea my dear!), to get home quick. And she sees a seedy looking
stranger at the end of the road. She prays to god as she walks quickly
through and gets home safely. The next day she sees in the paper that a
young girl was raped in the same alley about 20 minutes later. She goes
to the jail and points out who the culprit is and asks him why not her?
And he says because there were two tall men walking on either side of
her (though she was really alone). This happened i.e. she was protected
because she stood up for god and prayed to him, while the other girl
didn't.
While at first I pushed it away and started browsing other features in
facebook, the message of this story really bothered me as time inched
by (I was doing homework, hence the inching and facebooking, u
understand :D ). I believe in god and stuff, but I would hate my god to
protect me and let some other poor soul be raped in an alley because
she didn't pray to him , or even overall believe in him (i actually
don't like the classification of god as a him either, but let's save
that for later  , i'll continue to use him since 'it'
sounds....wrong). I mean, as long as the other girl is a good person
etc ( assuming karma theory works ), why not protect her as well.
An anology: If a stranger on the road, even a non-stranger who hates
you, is being murdered/assaulted, shouldn't you go and help him/her? To
me that almost seems like basic morality. If so, shouldn't god exercise
the same logic? Perhaps its presumptuous of me to extend my basic logic
to religion/divine proportions, but ......
Just a few thoughts.
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| americans in general seem to feel less. Okay this isnt the nice blog i mentioned earlier, but it struck me while i was thinking... and i figured it pitch it out here. It's liek God, when making earth thought... "Hey.... Here'a a funny tweak I can throw in there. I'll give this continent of people less expressiveness and the rest of the world more. Wonder how they'd fare in the future". Then when globalization happened he was probably like "Rats. They'd meet, thats what'd happen."
It just doesnt make any sense to me. Why is it that people can yell and scream at one pole and be barely noticed while in the ohter people will usher him away to a support group for anger management? Strange. And how people shudder when one says " oh if that happnes, I'd kill myself". I mean, understand if one has such a fear of the person saying this already and the statement re-enforces it. But otherwise its like, come on, I wouldnt be sitting here saying so if I were accttuallyy gonna do it right?
*sigh* A nice blog will come. | | |
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