Confessions of a Compulsive Sharer

Just a few minutes back, for some reason I was in quite an agitated state. Working on an eight year old relic of a desktop was certainly not helping. Even the 'unresponsive plugin' dialog box was 'not responding'. And suddenly my playlist decided to play this particularly angst-ridden song, the actual lyrics of which had no particular resonance with my current state of mind, but the general feeling of bitterness, anger and angst was a pretty neat fit. So as one tends to do in such a scenario, I kept playing the song over and over again. Even now as I am writing and after a few drastically contrasting upbeat songs, I have gone back to it and playing it on loop, to sustain that angst, even if only in spirit. But I digress. So after hearing it a couple of times, my first impulse was to stop what I was working on, move on to the browser and share on Facebook that I was listening to this particular song. But I checked myself in time, as I realized, what good would that accomplish? It won't put across what I was actually feeling to anyone. Even if it did convey something, it would be something totally different. And it would definitely be of no use. So I stopped and moved on. But this was more of an exception than the norm. The fact that I had just shared a video of baby sloths squeaking from a science-themed page on my wall just a few minutes before this incident is testament enough - of the fact that I am a compulsive sharer. Or more specifically, a compulsive 'social-network' sharer. And I admit it with every ounce of shame possible. Not that its a new realization. I have always known it, and admitted to it. And the co-inhabitants of this cyber network of mine have been by and large very kind and tolerant of this rather irritating and annoying habit of mine. Apart from a comment here and there on how overactive or overzealous a 'Facebooker' (and now a 'Google Plus-er' - ??) I am, or that how whenever they open their FB, all they see is a series of contiguous posts shared by me and nothing else, I have never really heard too many complaints. Either people are really patient or tolerant, or they hardly use FB, or the most likely explanation - they have discovered that they can block or reduce the frequency of a person's posts on their wall by a simple settings change. Well that was the case, until a couple of weeks back, when one of my oldest friends told me, over Facebook chat - where all of our communication nowadays is limited to anyway, that she is removing me from her 'closest friends' list, because doing that sends you a notification for each and every activity of the concerned person, and the tsunami of notifications for my all too frequent unleashing of information on the world was simply too much for her to handle. 

Appreciating her honesty,

 I just told her, 

I am sorry but I can't help myself, 

for I am, but a compulsive sharer.

Mind you, I am not the stereotypical social networking junkie that abound in all those memes floating around the Web. I don't share pictures of my meals, or cute kitten and puppy videos (sloths are a one off exception!), or check-ins of every step I take, every move I make, and not even random musings spouting in my brain as status updates (that's reserved for this blog). I do however, HAVE TO share every beautiful piece of music I happen to listen to, or any pair of striking, fascinating, eye-opening, resonating lines put together and set to music, or an article highlighting a pertinent issue I feel strongly about, or maybe just a goofy write up that I couldn't help LOL-ing at, or the latest accomplishments of my favorite tennis player, or the latest, potentially ground breaking study in the field of biology. Basically, anything that I enjoy, get excited about, or anything that touches me, concerns me - I have to share. Its like my enjoyment or indulgence in that particular piece will not climax, as it were, if I did not unleash it upon all my friends and acquaintances. And this phenotype's expression is not confined to the realm of the virtual world. During my masters, a few of my classmates had nicknamed me the 'storyteller'. Because I couldn't help but narrate seemingly unending stories of incidents that happened to me or others, in excruciating detail, and would only stop until I was finished or it would get clear from the audience's facial expressions that they are longing for the second they can walk away from that 'conversation' (goes totally against my general reputation of being shy and reserved though). Its just that in the virtual world, you don't have access to that instant feedback a.k.a. the 'speak-one-more-word-and-I-will-blow-my-brains-out' look! So basically, in order to truly enjoy something, I just have to share it with other people. Of course, I am not naive enough to think that everything I enjoy would also tickle everyone else's imagination, but that is not a compulsive sharer's prime concern when he strikes gold. He just has to disperse it, as far and wide as possible, and it may or may not reach the appropriate destination. Its the recipients' choice to ignore it or receive it. In case I am assured of the likelihood of a particular entity being definitely enjoyed a specific person, I in fact even tend to personally share it with them and not the whole bunch on a social network. I am confused if this is a manifestation of an attention-seeking personality as people might tend to call it, but that is definitely not the intention. As I say, its a compulsion. I am sure that in the current society, where every out of the ordinary personality trait or quirk is quickly labeled as some sort of a disorder (for good reason though, more often than not), they have a specific term or word for this kind of insanity which doesn't allow me to fully enjoy something without sharing it, and that there would perhaps be hundreds of thousands others like me out there. But I would like to believe that it is not out of an attention-seeking habit, or self-esteem issues, or lack of a life (though the latter might be dangerously close to the truth). Once the deed is done, I don't constantly keep checking or hoping that someone would read it or listen to it, like it, comment on it. Nah! But if someone does tend to tell me that they really loved the song or artist I shared, and they look forward to more music - it does make my day. Dispensing incredible music gives me an inexplicable high. Now this has begun to start sounding like I am justifying myself for some reason, so I will abruptly stop. Huh! .. what do you know, isn't it ironic that for a compulsive sharer, I have so little material for my own blog!?

Productivity: A researcher's Everest

 Alternatively titled - Laments of a 'Sciency' part II

Are you one of those people who measure a day's success/worth at the end by how productive it was? Well then, welcome to the "My day sucks, everyday!" club. Being a researcher, I am no stranger to deadlines and pressures of short term targets, even if they come few and far in between. But when they do come, more often than not, after a long period of lethargy and complacence, they seem all the more like the proverbial gun to your head or sword at your neck. And its not just me. I have seen many of my lab mates, current and former, grappling with this. Often enough, for days on end, we end the day looking at the time, and bemoaning the lack of productivity that day. Regretting the hours spent in the canteen over cups of tea, the longer than usual lunch 'hour', and most of all, the hours whiled away surfing the Internet, and not looking for publications. Then all you can do after the realization strikes is to curse yourself, promise punitive action, and vow to come in early tomorrow, work your derriere off, and not leave the lab until you get some productive data. Only to do it all over again the next day. Rinse and repeat. And this is just one of the average days during the long periods of inaction, exploration, or as I like to call it, literature survey. And being a computational biologist, I am more prone to face such periods frequently than an experimental biologist. But what happens when those deadlines strike and immediate goals rear their ugly head? How does one used to taking time in figuring things out cope with the sudden and urgent requirement for action? While a few righteous ones rise to the challenge, shrug off the complacence and deal with the task at hand head on, others follow a more convoluted route. I have often seen people, friends rather (and myself included), initially trying to the best of their ability to go down the above mentioned idealistic route, and 'man up', but then unable to sustain this initial blast of fuel combustion and the resulting drive, determination and optimism, and ultimately failing to the see it through to the desired conclusion in the given time frame. Instead, once the initial explosion of drive has fizzled out, the exponential growth of productivity plateaus, and one gets into a mundane, dog-chasing-its-own-tail-in-circles routine. The results stop, and the exasperation grows, resulting in an eventual inversely proportional relationship with productivity. The more one gets stuck, the lesser time one spends working, and finds refuge in checking their e-mail or Facebook every five minutes. Then either you give up or leave it all up to fate, with a firm belief (or rather, a desperate optimism) that things will work out - eventually. It HAS to work out. The principle of 'something's gotta give' will kick in. You just hope its the God of negative or no results who gives in before you do. And if you think about it, more or less almost every time, don't things DO actually work out? The universe has a peculiar way of sorting itself out, or at least that's what I'd like to believe, cause usually when you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place, its imperative that a miraculous, third way out does appear out of the blue. Now that might be your own perseverance and/or desperation at work, but it helps to believe that a guardian angel was at work while you were busy 'liking' (and cursing) the weekend getaway pictures of your friends' in other professions on Facebook. Meanwhile, if you come up with better ways to deal with these low-on-productivity phases while you ponder over it over a cup of coffee in the canteen, do let me know.

Changing Definitions of Patriotism

Today is the 26^th of January. The day India celebrates its Republic Day – anniversary of its Constitution coming into effect. Years ago, I would have got up early in the morning to watch the Republic Day parade on television. India’s military might and cultural diversity are on full display along the iconic red-sand lined boulevards of the Rajpath. The very idea of this day, and the parade is supposed to make every Indian’s heart swell with pride and patriotism. For me, that effect has diminished over the years. While in school, these occasions are special and looked forward to with excitement. But now, the patriotic songs on the radio all day long, the handmade flags dangling precariously from window sills and rooftops, and the excitement for the colorful tableaux representing different states and Government departments are all relics of childhood. Today I got up at 12:30 pm, and the first thing I did was to switch on the TV, but only to see if Sania Mirza managed to win the Mixed doubles title at the Australian Open, and excited for the ensuing men’s final match between Nadal and Wawrinka. Meanwhile, the radio in the next room was blasting the latest Bollywood hits like any other day, instead of the handful of staple patriotic songs from movies of bygone era, which usually come on the airwaves just twice every year. As I switched channels, I landed on Rang De Basanti, a modern day classic and the perfect movie to invoke the missing patriotic spark on a day like this. I had not seen this movie in a long time, and as I watched it, I found myself appreciating it for the exemplary film making and its technical and aesthetic aspects. I realized that the indescribable feeling of being welled up with patriotic emotions was missing, unlike the first couple of times I had seen it, years ago. I began to wonder, do I not take pride in being an Indian anymore? Do National holidays like the Republic Day and the Independence Day mean nothing anymore to me, especially if they fall on a Sunday, thus robbing me of a guaranteed day off from work?

Patriotism in India is expressed occasionally, including sporting  events, the afore mentioned national holidays, times of war, or a significant achievement on the global stage – like the beauty pageant victories of yore, or the more recent successful launch of the Mars Rover by our space agency ISRO. Though I use the term sporting events at the risk of being too liberal - its only cricket that counts as sport in our collective conscience. But we are so used to winning in cricket by now, that it is no longer associated with the pride of being an Indian, unless it is the world cup, or a match against Pakistan.The jingoistic version of patriotism, often restricted for our dealings with the old time neighboring foe/friend, is expressed time and again, be it on the cricket pitch via bat and ball, or on the high terrains of the Himalayas via guns and mortar, or in our movies (thankfully, on the decline). But in these times of social networking, when everyone is an opinion maker and a self appointed expert on everything, where complete anonymity springs up keyboard warriors in every home, this jingoism has found an unprecedented outlet for expression. These defenders of our country’s pride are forever ready with their fingers drawn, ready to bully and abuse anyone who dares question our country, or even their own political heroes, into submission. On the flip side, when any piece related to India comes up on any social media platform, there are similar detractors who are ready to label India as the country of rapists and hell for women at the drop of a hat, no matter if the article they are commenting on was about the Mangalyaan. One interesting expression of patriotism nowadays is seen when an India – born national of any country is lauded for an achievement of significance. Whether that person is an astronaut, musician, scientist or politician, we are ready to claim him/her as one of our own, and delight and take pride in their success, even if their families left India eons ago, and its inconsequential whether they acknowledge their “Indianness” or not. It’s a pity that we are apparently a nation so starved of heroes that we are ready to embrace others as our own, even though our own athletes, freedom fighters, aging and forgotten artists and other heroes (or even present, when it comes to ‘irrelevant’ disciplines like Kabaddi, or for that matter, any women’s team) are struggling to make ends meet.

Though it can be argued that just like any other emotion, the expression of patriotism will vary for every individual. While for some, it may trigger from witnessing a thumping victory of the Indian cricket team over an arch rival (or maybe even on the tennis court, or hockey field), for others it may come from witnessing the launch of a space mission or nuclear capable missile on TV. I was just trying to contemplate the changing definitions of patriotism for me with age, but digressed. While celebrating and revisiting iconic events in our glorious past, with a show of present strength and a promising future excited me as a child, now it only means a few hours of lost sleep. Later in the day, while still changing channels, I landed on NDTV, airing a feature on the Kargil War, and the perspectives and changes in those war ravaged towns in the present day, with comparisons to the actual days of the war. Watching footage of the first televised war of our country, journalists standing along with the army in line of fire, I rediscovered that spark to some extent, if only for the realization that celebrating these days is crucially important, if it ensures that we remember and appreciate our heroic armed forces once or twice a year at least.

In these times of insecurity, increased lawlessness, and complete disregard for human life, one might be forgiven for feeling that the entire concept of patriotism is on its way out. After all, if our populace was proud of its nation, how could a country once a symbol of non violence and morality, be suddenly symbolic of barbarism, inhumane treatment of its own women and intolerance. It’s like we take two steps ahead, to only come back ten.  But I strongly believe, change will come with generations. And the current generation, fortunately, has demonstrated the idea of patriotism which requires change on a daily basis. Patriotism which embodies becoming a better person every day, standing up for what is right, not settling for mediocrity and by not being content with silence and demanding answers. On the surface it may look like everything is spiraling downwards, but change is also happening at the other end, slowly and subtly, but surely. There might be a lot of noise and commotion, but the voice of reason does manage to make its presence felt often enough, and hopefully will eventually prevail. As Indians, I hope we will learn to be proud of and retain all that is good, and at the same time not be in denial of everything that is wrong and resolve to rectify it.