One day at a time, one step at a time

An experience that most functioning adults face is that of building up a routine with great effort, only to have it come crashing down in the face of an unexpected adversity.  Sometime in the summer of 2024, I found myself in such a situation. A health crisis in my family meant that I had to stay away from IISER for about six weeks.  My family dealt with the crisis wisely by putting together all the support systems and structures.  We all did what was necessary, and somehow managed to keep our work lives going (even if remotely). In my case, that meant regularly corresponding with my students and colleagues, and taking care of other urgent administrative work (such as preparing budgets for conference grants, following up with our grants office, submitting course outlines etc).  But, I soon realized that I was unable to focus on anything that required "deep work": I could not concentrate on my ongoing research projects, and my usual writing routine could not withstand the shock of the situation. One of my collaborative projects was gaining speed at this time, and while I joined all the meetings, it was actually the collaborators who were pulling all the weight during this phase while I started blankly at the screen. 

After the family situation was better, I returned to campus.  Nevertheless, there was a thick fog in the mind, possibly due to the stress of the situation and several weeks of irregular sleep. I was finding it hard to recover despite being back on home ground. Soon, there was another month-long phase of travel, and the writing routine seemed at its lowest ebb.

The redemption came in September in the form of an eight-day-long vacation in Kashmir that I had planned long before the family crisis had erupted. I was to stay for the whole duration in a quiet hill station called Yousmarg, known for its beautiful meadows. While planning the vacation (or more appropriately, the stay-cation), I had hoped to be in a completely relaxed state of mind after a summer of conferences and paper submissions, and to possibly start something afresh. But, it was not to be: the version of me that reached Yousmarg was terribly anxious at falling behind in all her research projects, and was struggling with low attention span. This could not continue.

So, I made a plan: I decided to focus on just one project and devote a few hours every morning to it. I also planned to work on the project for the rest of the day, but the latter part could be more flexible, combined by walking around Yousmarg, reading [1], or taking a nap, based on my mood and energy levels. The strategy was to start small and do a little bit every day.  In fact, I started with proof-reading some parts that had already been written by my collaborators, and promised not to judge myself even if it took me all day to understand some steps of a proof.  The important thing was to make some progress everyday, and regain my attention span in small increments.

It worked! 

The lack of internet at the hotel worked like elixir for someone looking to regain their attention span. I waded through all the project-related material (downloaded before the travel), line by line, step by step. Since I could not type on Overleaf or connect to my collaborators, I made notes and zeroed down on a couple of points that looked troublesome. The walks around the hotel became more pleasant while I thought these points over [2]. 

By the end of my trip, I found myself up-to-speed with all that had happened in the project during the summer, except for a couple of points. This may well have been the first ``vacation" in which I got to relax, while also working without anxiety. Soon after returning to Pune, I resumed my teaching duties (the post-midsem part of a second year course on probability to a large class) and regular meetings with students. At this time, I spoke to a friend who had recently overcome a similar challenge. She had survived a much more difficult situation, and was able to walk me through the different stages of regaining focus. "When the fog lifts, you will know; until then, one has to keep doing whatever we can."

While the ``fog" had still not lifted completely, the sunlight had started to filter in. My energy levels and attention span were both coming back, and the stability of not having to travel for the next three months motivated me to double down on the project. On the morning of the Mahalaya, I made a to-do list of literature search and writing needed to take care of some sections of the paper. The aim, everyday, was to not leave the study table until the task for that day had been completed. By the morning of Vijaya Dashmi, I had completed multiple sections, and had also corrected the points which were troubling me in Yousmarg. 

For those who know what I am talking about, these points had to do with some subtleties in the relationship between the symmetric-power L-functions for Hecke newforms and the Rankin-Selberg L-functions; with the corrections in place, all the subsequent sections had to be modified.  Our project is to find explicit constants in the zero-free regions for modular L-functions, and every estimate has to be noted and incorporated carefully and precisely into the "master" equations.  Soon after Diwali, our team of collaborators resumed our weekly meetings (we are working between three countries and four time zones).  In complete contrast to the summer, I was now eagerly engaged in the meetings, and would enthusiastically look forward to them through the day.  This is when I knew that the fog had lifted completely. We started working on each section, and over the last month, have cleaned up the manuscript and written out the proof of our main theorem. We are now in the final stages of the article, and the month of December will be spent in proof-reading and finalizing the draft. The feeling of showing up well-prepared for every meeting and absorbing all the insights from collaborators to improve one's understanding of the project is priceless. I enjoy working on this project every morning, and it is such a relief to have overcome the writing inertia of the summer months.

The writing routine is back, but with a realization that adversities and shocks can strike unexpectedly. Regaining one's focus requires kindness to oneself and some flexibility in work habits. It requires us to control where we spend our time and energy, but without slipping into victim mode (as my friend wisely pointed out). Above all, it is about taking one step at a time, one day at a time, consistently. If something looks intimidating (as it naturally will, if we are recovering from a situation which took us away from something we were doing regularly), break down the task into small steps, and focus on one step at a time without negative self-talk. Replace "Why I am I so stupid?" with "What exactly is the problem in this step?" Replace "Why am I so slow?" by "What progress have I made since yesterday? What can I do next?" If the next step seems to invite procrastination, break it down into even smaller steps. 

In time, we build things back (we really do, however "low" we start), and at the same time, become non-judgmental observers of our own growth and progress. For those of us who have to write regularly, the progress becomes visible in the form of all the new sections that were typed up. It can be quite revealing to compare the current version of something with what it was a month ago. While you were taking one little step every day (and possibly wondering if this was enough), your draft was growing bigger and more wholesome, the extent of which can be noted a month later.

Starting tomorrow, I will be busy with preparations for a major conference from 09-13 December at IISER Pune.  The rest of the month will be spent in conference travel and time with my family. Will I be able to guard my morning writing routine through all of this? And if there is a crack, can I bounce back to normalcy by taking one step at a time? We will leave these questions for a future blog post.

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[1] I specifically chose the letters and poems of Emily Dickinson because the Sangarmal hotel at Yousmarg, where I stayed, reminded me of her homestead. But, I may have chosen the wrong collection of letters. This particular collection contained many letters in which she is exhorting her friends, in moving language, to reply to her letters and not ignore her. These letters made me very angry with her friends, and may have drained my mental energies a little. 

[2] The walking, however, had other consequences. People in Yousmarg are extremely friendly; the thought of a (female) tourist walking all alone on a cold day is unbearable to them and they will take you to their homes and serve tea. The personal connections made through such interaction are invaluable, and sometimes, one just has to postpone the Math to the privacy of the hotel room and garden :-) 

On dreaming versus preparing for nightmares

The other day, a friend, while preparing for a trip to a city in USA, mentioned that he was nervous about the travel. This was surprising to me: this is a well-traveled, resourceful person, with travel experience to numerous countries (including a good number, where he did not speak the native language). What's more, he has managed multiple travel crises through the pandemic. For example, in a previous trip to USA, his flight from conference-city to New York got canceled (one among 1500 flights that got canceled in USA on that day).  He could not find a bus reservation and the train journey was not an option as a building had collapsed on the railway track. Through all of this, he managed to reach the New York airport a few hours in advance, and worked his charm on the check-in staff to get transferred to another flight (at no additional cost), which brought him straight to Delhi instead of a long haul at London Heathrow (which, as we all know, would have been another disaster). With this experience, I reminded him how he was the "Travel Ratna" of our social circle, but the encouragement did not work much. 

Was he growing old, he wondered. Or, was the concern coming from the vast outrage factory called social media? Or, was he just tired and needed a good sleep before starting the 26 hour journey (including airport transfers)? Last I heard, he has reached his destination safely. He  informed us in our WhatsApp group that it was one of the most pleasant journeys he had made. He walked comfortably to a hotel nearby, and realized that all the social media fears about the city were grossly exaggerated. We hope he has an equally pleasant travel back to India. Nevertheless, I completely relate to what he was feeling.

This made me think: as students, we used to take travel mishaps in our stride, or at the very least, not worry about them so much beforehand, even while living on a shoestring budget. As a grown up, on the other hand, with far better finances to handle adversities, I often find myself ruminating elaborately on things that can go wrong. Like the gentleman above, I also wonder if this is a function of getting older and `less' indestructible. Or is it that in the post-Covid world, with airline botch-ups far more frequent than we have been used to, and the airline staff far less efficient and polite in dealing with them, it's impossible not to think of what can go wrong?

Why have some of us turned us into the kind of people who no longer dream of the exciting possibilities of journeys to interesting destinations for interesting reasons [even though we say yes to invitations and plan for such travel as a matter of course]? Why do we keep thinking about what could go wrong until we are back home? Did the sudden, unexpected onset of Covid, in which the world had to live with uncharacteristic arrangements and unexpected losses for more than 2 years, make our collective resilience brittle?

Facing challenging situations makes us strong and resilient. But, it can also make us wary of having to face similar situations all over again, now that we are aware of the immense possibilities of things going wrong. How many of us say, "hello adventure, come get me" before starting a long travel, versus those who start by saying wistfully, "hope this won't be as bad as the last time"? And, in all honesty, how many are still able to take the middle ground and say, "let's take a step at a time and see what happens" without feeling queasy?

I tend to gravitate between the second and the third category. Before any long journey or multi-city travel, I break things down into "small steps" and list them out. A step could be as small as getting through the security counter. Then, as the journey proceeds and each step gets completed, it is "checked off the list". With each item checked off the list, I feel better. I also try not to think later about what went wrong during a step as long as the step gets completed eventually. This is hard, but I am getting better. Basically, I am trying to organize things with a hope that breaking them down into small steps also breaks down unexpected shocks into smaller, tolerable shocks. That is, I try to take one step at a time and hope that even if something is "as bad as the last time", the shock will come in small instalments. Perhaps, there is a hidden hope that anticipating potential shocks can lead to happiness when the shocks don't come. 

But, why be so obsessed with shocks? I hope to work my way back into the first category of "hello adventure, come get me"people. I want to be that person again who dreams of the exciting possibilities before starting, and not the person who laboriously prepares for nightmares. But, was I ever that person? I hope it is not too late to be so for the first time. 

Finally, may I just say that whatever was written above about travel is a metaphor for a lot of situations I am facing right now, including challenging research projects?

Twitter threads (on life choices, long walks, movies and math)

I do not have many new things to write about from my part of the academic garden. Instead, I would like to put together some of my older X/Twitter threads on assorted topics such as life choices, long walks, travels, a movie, and mathematics. Here they are.

1) On authentic life choices: Some time ago, a younger colleague in her early 30s was a little upset. "I've been made to feel that I'm too energetic, too excitable, too caring, too much in one way or another...like I'm a handful - not worth the trouble", she said. This reminded me of receiving similar comments when I was at her life and career stage. This made me reflect on how life evolves through the 20s and 30s, and how the authenticity in our choices has a bearing on 40s. This led to the following thread: link.

[Note: I use the 20s, 30s and 40s only as notional place-holders in a strictly limited and personal context. The timelines are different for each individual.]

2) Trek to Matanga hill and parallels with a life in science: Hampi is a beautiful travel destination. It used to be the centre of the Vijayanagara empire several centuries ago. Exploring the temples, monuments and the overall landscape of this region is an invigorating exercise that brings us closer to our history and heritage. In 2022, I wrote a thread on a long walk/trek up the Matanga Hill. The trek made me reflect on many parallels with a life in research (more generally, a life in any creative pursuit). I wrote a thread on these reflections: link. 

3) Another nice walk in Hampi: Hampi has several paths for those who like to go on long, meditative walks. Our favourite walk is on a trail from the Virupaksha temple to the Vitthala temple complex. We took this walk again in December 2023, and I wrote a thread here: link.

To my pleasant surprise, this thread received a lot of engagement. Many people shared pictures and stories from their own trips to Hampi, and also suggested other long walking/hiking routes which we hope to explore in future trips. 

4) A trip to Srinagar: Based on a recent trip to Srinagar, this thread is very close to my heart: link. I enjoyed every aspect of this trip: the beauty of Kashmir, pleasant interactions with eager students and the Kashmiri community, and the revival of memories from previous trips 25 years ago. For some strange reason, the link to the above thread misses two tweets at the end: see here.

On a related note, the trip also made me think carefully about my career goals and mathematical activities that matter. These reflections were also shared in this blog post. 

5) Biopic on Shakuntala Devi: On a lighter note, in 2020, I wrote some comments on the movie "Shakuntala Devi" (starring Vidya Balan in the pivotal role): link.

This led to another thread. 

6) On some exceptional Indian women mathematicians: Shakuntala Devi is often described in popular culture as "India's most famous woman mathematician". But, what does it mean to do mathematics? Is mathematics all about performing massive computations? Or is there more to it? I wrote a thread here, elaborating upon these questions. The thread contains examples of some inspiring Indian women mathematicians who have made a big difference through their research, teaching and mentoring. The thread was written for India Wants to Know.

7) The early days of the Journal of the Indian Mathematical Society: While gathering information for a biographical piece on the distinguished number theorist Sarvadaman Chowla, I learnt about a rather surprising "enabler" of mathematical talent in the early 20th century. This source nurtured (and in turn, was nurtured by) many, including Ramanujan: The Journal of the Indian Mathematical Society. Here's a thread: link.

On a related note, my biographical piece on Sarvadaman Chowla appeared in the Bhavana magazine, and can be found here.

Do also check out the archives of the Bhavana magazine for high quality mathematics writing (essays, biographies, interviews and more). The writing is accessible to non-specialists who have an interest in mathematics, especially in the creative and cultural aspect. 

On work-travel balance and other matters

In the early days of this blog, I would sometimes write "random" posts, that is, posts with short snapshots of multiple work-life thoughts (see, for example, here and here). I am reviving the random "series" again. Here are some thoughts on work-travel balance, accountability to goals, and facing the reviewer "within". 

1) After several days of travel across India (from Kashmir to Kerala), mostly for work, and occasionally for a break, a relatively calmer and more stable routine at home has brought some relief. It's great to be invited to deliver talks, and to travel to interesting destinations, but if we don't balance it with quiet, focused days at the study desk, how will we have new things to talk about? A well-structured life at home is great: you have a regular work routine around your research work, teaching schedule and meetings. You wake up in the morning thinking about the sunrise and next steps in your projects (or the lecture material for your next class), and not about the next flight to catch.  This makes it so much easier to focus on "deep" work. You get to have your cups of coffee exactly the way you like them and at the times you want them. You have complete control over your meals and over your work-out schedule (and access to the gym).Nevertheless, at this career stage, travel is only going to get more frequent in the coming years. One will have to flexibly adapt to different routines and time zones, not to mention, meal options and coffee times (if, at all, coffee is a possibility). One will have to learn to stay calm while dealing with the vagaries of flight delays, missed connections, cancellations, airport transfers etc. 

I believe that in this phase of travel, I made a lot of progress in dealing with all the disruptions and changes. I prepared all my talks well before the travel, and this itself took a lot of the stress away [1]. While I relish my early-morning coffee at home, I no longer feel disturbed when I can't get it. I do manage to make healthy meal choices based on what is available, and have also learnt to travel with a Yoga mat and Yoga props (which can be easily folded into the suitcase). Pretty much anywhere in the country, academics are blessed with good campuses with safe and pleasant routes to walk/run on. So, I have learnt to be responsible about my health while traveling. If I could develop the resilience to show up to my morning writing hours with focus during travel, the work-travel balance will essentially be sorted out. Question: is it possible to adapt to travel so seamlessly that one doesn't feel any difference between being at home and being away from home? 

2) Talking about Yoga, last week, as I was recovering from a hard day at work, I had this sudden wish to miss my Yoga class. I wrote to the instructor with a request to record the class, which I would practice later on my own. However, within a few minutes of the start time of the class, I started feeling very restless: it felt as if I was missing out on something substantial: so, I did show up for the class and participated in the remaining part of the class. I was sufficiently rejuvenated after the class to prepare two classes for the math course that I am teaching this semester. 

The next day, I went about my routine as planned, and wondered what would have happened if I had indeed missed the Yoga class. In addition to the mental regret, it is almost certain that I would not have practised it on my own, thereby missing important instructions that would be needed in the next class. Or even if I did, I would have had to carve out an hour away from some other activity, and then, there would be a cascading effect of making up for lost time in a variety of urgent activities. Some important activities would have to be put aside for later. Unlike a rolling stone that gathers no moss, rolling time schedules do gather moss, and the time taken to finish an activity only increases with each postponement. Showing up with a sense of responsibility and accountability, and not caving into the "all or nothing" approach keeps the days rolling smoothly. 

3) A strong motivating factor in showing up for scheduled activities every day is to remember the larger goals. But, for that, one needs to have larger goals. In different conversations with two colleagues recently, we discussed this point.  Some activities that force us to reflect on our goals are writing grant proposals, and preparing evaluation reports. Both of these activities help us to think about our vision: what is our story, and in what direction are we taking it forward? How is the story shaping up, and what parts of the story need more development? In many cases, when we write for an audience who are not necessarily working in our area of expertise, we also have to compose and present our goals more creatively. Well before we hear back from the evaluation committee or the grant agency, our own "inner" reviewer gives us a fairly accurate feedback on where we stand as researchers, provided we care to listen. Among my friends and colleagues, we share a lot of jokes (and internet memes) about writing grant proposals: but, I have never felt that time spent on writing one was wasted (even if the proposal was not successful). In fact, on a recent occasion, I finished a research project with my PhD student based on one of the goals I had written in a proposal. As a pleasant surprise, I heard about the acceptance of the article as well as the successful approval of the grant around the same time. This was so encouraging: I am now motivated to develop the other parts of the "story" of which this project was a part. While writing the grant proposal, the co-PI and I had a very good feeling about it: our "inner" reviewers appreciated the honesty, clarity and sense of purpose with which we wrote it, taking into account our respective expertise and the themes that could be developed in collaboration. Even if the application was not successful, we promised each other that we will continue working on these ideas. But, as it turns out, the peer reviewers also felt the same way about the project: we got the entire amount we asked for, and it will enable us to hire two postdoctoral fellows to join our project. 

This was a rare occasion when our evaluators agreed with our own inner assessment of our goals and work. Papers and grant proposals get rejected frequently, and often, the reviewers may not share our own assessment (and this can go in both directions). Most of us just get on with it, especially if our inner reviewer gave us an honest feedback (good or bad), and we have a healthy mechanism to face it. It makes me wonder: when we feel a strong sense of revulsion towards review or evaluation in any form, do we fear confronting the external reviewers or the reviewer within?

[1] Yes, I have had phases in past life when I prepared for talks during flights, but have given up on this in the interest of my mental health. If one really needs to work on a flight, the no-internet time is much better utilized by working on new problems.

Does it matter?

Two months ago, I traveled to Srinagar for a few days. This was in the middle of the teaching semester, and I had requested my co-instructor for the course (a large second year class of 200 students) to cover for me. This trip was not for a personal vacation, but it was also not for a research conference or collaboration. I am a member of the editorial board of Resonance, a journal of science education published by the Indian Academy of Sciences. This journal is widely read by school and college students and teachers all over the world, and the goal is to publish good articles, either containing new discoveries or a good exposition of existing science which can be understood by a wide readership. This year, Resonance decided to combine one of their editorial board meetings with an outreach programme at Srinagar. The programme would bring together college students from all over Kashmir, who would be treated to expository talks in the different sciences for a week. They would also have the opportunity to interact with the speakers (plenty of time was allocated for this) about topics of interest, and to ask lots of questions about the topics, course of future study, a life in science and more.

Earlier this year, when Professor B. Sury, the chief editor of Resonance asked if I would be interested in being a part of this programme, I immediately said yes (mainly because of the interesting venue). On the day of travel, I woke up at 1 am to catch a red-eye flight to Delhi, in order to make a decent connection to Srinagar. The uneven sleep hours did not bother me at all. In a truly joyful and excited state of mind, I listened to a podcast and read a book through the journey. I was mesmerised by majestic views of the Himalayas as the plane entered Kashmir, and felt grateful for the opportunity to be here as we descended into the valley.

While waiting at Srinagar airport for a fellow EB member who was to arrive an hour later, however, I suddenly grew anxious: Is it right for me to travel for five days for a non-research-related reason? Is this vanity? Am I avoiding "real" work by doing this?

The essence of all these worries was: does this activity "matter" as much as producing research? In a raw, "transactional" form, the question is: what position does such an activity hold in your CV? Or more pertinently, will it help score a point for tenure or promotion or whatever evaluation you are up for next? This, of course, points to the larger issue of what matters. Sometimes, I've heard the question taking a rather stark form: if research productivity is all that matters, why should a scientist at a research institution spend time mentoring students or making an effort to teach well or, by extension, participating in an educational outreach programme? 

As I was musing on these issues, a gentleman sitting next to me, waiting for his ride, struck up a conversation. Coincidentally, it turned out that he travels frequently for art outreach activities in schools and colleges. He described the students that he meets at these programmes, and their eagerness to learn. This made me realize that I was thinking about the entire question of what matters from a limited viewpoint. The question was not if this activity mattered to a promotion committee. The right question was, "Does this activity matter to the students that I am going to meet?" 

While reading email discussions over the preceding week, I had learnt that students [including a very large number of women students] from all over Kashmir were traveling to Srinagar for this event, and the university administrators had worked hard to make the accommodation and programme arrangements. This was right in the middle of a curfew-like situation because there was to be a presidential visit the next day, and Srinagar was practically covered in a security cordon. People were working round the clock to make this event a success, and most importantly, students had traveled on their own, far away from their homes to learn science. Later, I came to know that Professor Jasjeet Bagla from IISER Mohali (the organizer on behalf of Resonance) had arrived a few days earlier to monitor the arrangements. Professor B. Sury, the chief editor of Resonance, was so seriously invested into making the event a success that he prepared four extra talks, just in case there were last minute cancellations by speakers. The speakers at this event (and associated events organized at colleges in places like Baramullah, Anantnag and Kupwara) spanned a vast and continuous spectrum of ages and career levels. There were retired academics above the age of 70, there were academics at very senior positions and there were some professors who had taught and interacted with me when I was a college student. There were several academics closer to my age and career stage. There were also younger people who had started their faculty positions very recently. But, we were all committed to the programme, and almost everyone had chosen to stay for a long duration (as opposed to simply flying in/giving a talk/flying out) [1]. We traveled the next morning from our guest house at Kashmir University to the venue for the programme (the Government College for Women at M. A. Road, Srinagar). A large community of students from the Physics department at KU (including, to my pleasant surprise, a high number of women research scholars) accompanied us to the venue as volunteers for the event [2]. They also served as friendly guides pointing us to several important landmarks in the city [3,4]. 

Professor Anil Bhardwaj, Director of the Physical Research Laboratory, Ahmedabad, sparked off the programme by a talk on India's space missions. As he shared video footage of the recent moon landing and other successful missions along with scientific details of the work that goes behind these missions, there was loud applause and plenty of questions from the students. Surrounded by happy, inquisitive students and passionate teachers,  I found all misgivings and anxieties about the trip and my participation sliding away. I was where I belonged and I was doing something that I joined the academic profession to do: interacting with students, sharing ideas with them and teaching them in whatever capacity I could. 

Coming back to the question of what matters, the simplest answer I can now come up with is that one has to remember the goals of each activity and place them in the right "box" if we must. It is true that when I prepare my next appraisal report, I will focus on my research projects: articles, PhD supervision, teaching duties at IISER. The outreach/science communication activities will most likely be relegated to the last page. In a sense, good communication skills involve a judgement of what to communicate in different situations. A tenure/promotion/evaluation committee (consisting of members who are spending their precious and severely limited time trying to understand our performance, and give us helpful feedback for our career progression) would be more interested in a presentation of our research programme and ideas, and how well we have been able to take them forward. So, this may not necessarily be the right place to describe our passion for outreach/science communication. 

Nevertheless, this does not detract from the value and importance of participating in an activity like the Resonance Science Outreach Programme. It is a valuable opportunity to teach younger people about what we do and love. In a country like ours with a vast student community that is hungry to learn, such opportunities matter and they have an impact. But, we are more likely to find the impact in the shine in a student's eyes than in an appraisal report. Those of us who have spent considerable time and effort in teaching and outreach beyond our institutional duties will attest to the sheer delight of receiving emails and updates from student participants over the years as they make their way up the academic and professional path. Somewhere, somehow, we made an impact to that one person, they remember and value that association, and we get a chance to see them grow, even if from a distance. And the right place to share our excitement of such activities may not be an appraisal report, but a lecture or outreach session itself, expository articles and possibly, blog posts such as this one! The fundamental issue, therefore, is not about whether something matters or not, but where does it matter and who does it matter to.

If science communication/outreach is something that someone genuinely enjoys and finds value in, the onus is on them to contribute to the extent possible. I do realize that not all academics may consider this important, or even have the skills to do this effectively [5]. Prioritizing science outreach may involve a tremendous amount of personal organization and time management, and there may even be times when we absolutely cannot make time for it. But isn't this true for all the things that we love? Choosing to not participate in outreach activities or not having the time or willingness for them is okay. But, if we do want to participate in them and avoid them only because they do not carry "weightage" in a CV, we may be losing out on something valuable that can indeed have a real impact.

I hope that I may always have the energy and willingness to balance all my professional activities: make progress in my research to the best of my abilities in the supportive ecosystem that IISER provides, make the best use of the opportunities and resources that are available to me, and also be able to share the joy of doing mathematics with students whenever I can. I can think of so many colleagues (including senior colleagues) who work very hard at their science research, are excellent teachers and travel widely to deliver lectures to students in schools and colleges all across India [6]. 

While spending time on teaching and outreach activities, be it within or outside our institution, it helps to remember that we are all part of a chain of teachers, and must keep it going. While at Srinagar, another symbolic way in which I was reminded of this was a view of a temple named after the great monk and teacher, Adi Shankaracharya, that stands atop a hill visible from many parts of Srinagar.

The trip to Srinagar certainly mattered to me in more ways than one, and I will always cherish the memories and the reflections. 

[1] It is my lasting regret that I did not stay for the whole week of the programme. I wish I had also volunteered to travel to other places in Kashmir to give talks, like many of the other speakers. 

[2] The men students told me about a difficult situation: earlier that morning, they had all been turned out of their hostels without advance notice due to the security arrangements for the presidential visit, and had to find alternative accommodation.  They still managed to keep up their spirits and attended all the talks. I felt terribly sorry for them; students at IISER would be very upset at a much lower level of inconvenience. I do understand the tough choices that the administration had to make, and this makes me reflect on how students in Kashmir have had to navigate their studies through challenging times.

[3] Thanks to the inputs from one of the students, I made a solo trip to the Shankaracharya temple. It was one of the most memorable temple visits I have made; to imagine Adi Shankaracharya being here several centuries ago brought a lot of inspiration.  

[4] Something amusing and intriguing happened as I started walking up to the temple: a CRPF security member at the temple told me that this was not my first visit, and that she had seen me before. There's very little chance of that happening; I was last there in 1997. The driver who took some of us to Gulmarg the next day said the same thing: that he had seen me before. It made me very curious about a potential doppelganger (like the Canadian Maple to the Kashmiri Chinar) :-)

[5] At the cost of sounding mean, I can easily think of some people who will actually drive students away from science if they were to venture to give talks at such events. 

[6] Please check out the YouTube page of the Science Activity Center at IISER Pune. In these videos, many IISER members, as well as well-known educators from various parts of the world deliver lectures on interesting science topics to school students.

If I could survive the next two weeks..

The next two weeks are going to be a handful.

By Saturday, I have to finalize a paper and lecture notes for a series of lectures.  In between this week, I have to examine a PhD thesis viva voce (thankfully via Skype). On Sunday, I will travel to Bhubaneswar for an ATM School in which I am giving the above mentioned lectures.  The scary part is that temperature at BBN is on the wrong side of 40, but the good thing is that I will get to stay in my favourite guest house.

Immediately after returning, I have to move to my new apartment at IISER.  The idea of packing, moving and unpacking is a bit daunting.  Instead of a big brand, I have hired a local packer and mover this time and even though I have good feedback about this company from my colleagues, I am still worried about things breaking or getting lost.  What if the packers show up late? The apartment security does not allow moving out after a certain time.  What if they don’t pack the items properly and it starts raining? On top of that, the movers mention that some local goons may gather around the truck and won’t let it pass unless you give them some money (it is called “Mahtari” in local parlance).  What if I don’t get the apartment keys on time (I am working with very short deadlines here as I have to travel again for a few weeks immediately after the move)?  What if the movers misbehave and don’t unpack or reassemble the furniture? What if this? What if that? Even as I write this, I realize that half of my fears are unfounded.  Strangely I had no fear at all while moving from Mohanpur to Pune, which was a much longer commute than the upcoming 4 kilometer move!  Then of course, there was the big move from Canada to Mohanpur!

My colleagues who have already moved seem to be settling down well – in fact, our registrar was the first to move into campus housing and has already taken care of a lot of issues.  So, I don’t have too many concerns about what happens after moving. Our new apartment offers pipeline gas – that itself takes care of one major hassle, that of going to a gas agency for issuing cylinders.  The dining complex is nearby: so, no worries if the kitchen is not set up immediately. 

I will finally get to live on campus: something for which I have been waiting for a very, very long time [remembering a campus housing experience from another lifetime :) ].

Now, if only I could survive the next two weeks…..

Ranking guest houses

What are your favourite guest houses among those at academic institutes in India?  I have been to exactly 10 of them so far (yes, I actually counted.)  Not much of a traveler and not adventurous by any stretch of imagination, I do appreciate basic comforts and convenience wherever I am staying [1,2].  For example, clean bathrooms [3], air conditioners and accessible water purifiers (preferably in the same building, if not the same floor).  Other essentials for long term stays (though not much of an issue for short stays): internet connection, a good desk, digestible food and laundry facilities!

Here is a ranking of my favourite five:

5) IISER Mohali: I was there last weekend.  We were told to proceed to a place called “visitor hostel” on arrival at the entry gate.  I expected a damp, shared, two seater room with two beds, a dirty window and barely any space to keep a suitcase.  But, to my pleasant surprise, it turned out to be a clean and spacious room with a good desk, air conditioning, kettle and tea bags to make morning tea (but there was no coffee!) and a beautiful view from the windows.  Internet did not work in my room, but it did not matter because the weather in Mohali ensured that I was either preparing my talk or enjoying a National Academic Programme (aka NAP) while in the room.  This guest house is modeled after the next one on the list.

4) HRI Allahabad: I have stayed here two times, once in the main guest house and once in a serviced apartment on campus.  Both visits were during winter.  The stay was amazingly comfortable on both occasions.  Apart from basic conveniences like cleanliness, internet, simple North Indian meals in the main guest house etc, they also provide room service for tea/coffee in the morning and evening.  Since the weather was pleasant, on both occasions, I loved the fact that I could walk around their beautiful, well maintained and adequately lit campus.  The staff speaks excellent Hindi.  My first visit was in the winter of 2008 when I had very romantic notions about Allahabad (as about most things in life!)  I carried a collection of Mahadevi Verma’s poetry, which I would read out with my morning tea!

3) IISER Pune (Meera Mohan): I stayed here during my job interview and later, for a few days before finding accommodation in Pune.  At that time, IISER had rented a couple of five bedroom apartments in a residential building and converted them to guest houses.  While there, you would be taken care of by the resident caretaker, Ramji.  So, it gave a feeling of being in a house.  I have written more about it here.

2) IMSc Chennai guest house: This guest house looks extremely ordinary and not much care has been taken to furnish the rooms aesthetically.  But, within minutes of checking in, you realize that it has everything one would need: air conditioning, decent bathrooms (and quick servicing if there is a problem), clean linen, high speed internet and a big desk.  It also has a mini refrigerator, a kettle and adequate number of cups, glasses and spoons to make coffee or tea if you need some.  At 6 am, the canteen  (right next to the guest house) serves you fresh filter coffee [4].  Water coolers and purifiers are accessible and the cleaning staff also regularly replenishes the water in the rooms.  If you are staying for a long duration, then there are functional laundry facilities and shops close by for daily needs.  The location is not that great, but it is close enough to IIT Madras for one to take a pleasant walk/run there in the mornings in the company of friendly deer. The possibility of having idlis or dosas every morning ensures that you basically can’t ask for anything more!

1) KIIT University guest house: KIIT university is a private university in Bhubaneswar, which has hosted NBHM workshops in the past.  From the word go, everything here is awesome.  Clean rooms, air conditioning, water purifier on each level, good internet connection, friendly staff and an air conditioned canteen in the same building.  It doesn’t offer filter coffee or South Indian breakfast, but the reason I rank it above IMSc is the following incident: I was provided with an internet username and password while checking in, but it would not work on my Mac. I called the reception and since it was late evening, they sent someone from the kitchen (of all places!) to help me.  The guy came in, shrugged and promptly changed the proxy settings on the Mac.  A guest house where a cook can solve computer network issues has to get top ranking!

[1] Some friends convinced me to go camping once.  I did enjoy it a lot, but did not see the need to repeat the experience.

[2] Abhishek is the complete opposite.  He will happily stay overnight in a Greyhound bus/station, at an airport or in a youth hostel room with 10 other people.

[3] Bug-free bathrooms would be great, but basically impossible anywhere in India, I think! 

[4] During my last stay, however, the canteen building was under renovation – so, meals were served in a makeshift arrangement inside the institute.  As a result, there was no early morning coffee.

Chandigarh

I am visiting IISER Mohali to attend the annual Ramanujan Mathematical Society Meeting.  I am preparing for my talk tomorrow – so, this won’t be a very linear post.  Just some random thoughts:

1)   I have now visited four of the IISERs: Kolkata, Pune, Bhopal and Mohali.  All have their own advantages and special qualities, but in terms of accessibility, the institutes at Pune and Mohali easily score over the others. 

2)   It’s a different matter that traveling from Pune to Chandigarh isn’t all that easy.  There is only one flight from Delhi to Chandigarh, which leaves Delhi at 9.45 am.  So, one has to either travel to Mumbai to catch a flight, take an early morning 5.30 am flight from Pune to Delhi or take a later flight from Pune to Delhi and then travel from Delhi to Chandigarh by bus or train.  Interestingly, there is a direct flight from Bhopal to Chandigarh (which halts at Delhi).

3)   I have a special relation with Chandigarh.  It was my favourite childhood destination.  We lived in a small town called Dagshai in Himachal Pradesh and were lucky enough to get a house on the top of a hill, from where one could see vast expanses of Chandigarh.  Dagshai was where my father bought his first car (a Maruti 800) and we often drove to Chandigarh.  At that time, Sector 18 was the “happening” part of the city.   I had ice cream for the first time here.  This is a very short visit: but if I come back later for a longer visit, I would love to go there.  I wish I could also revisit the rock garden and the Pinjore gardens.

So much for now.

An upcoming move

I am very happy to share with you the news that I have recently been offered and have accepted a position at another "N" institute, and will be moving next semester.
Inspired by a comment left by an anonymous commenter long ago, my future institute will be henceforth referred to as New1[1].  My primary motivation to move to New1 is the tremendous opportunity that it provides for my academic growth.

Working at N1 has been a wonderful experience and I have always been very happy here.  But, I have had to take this difficult decision purely from the point of view of furthering my academic goals.  N1 and New1 share very similar philosophies and objectives and that is an added advantage.

I am feeling a lot of things right now. I feel excited about a new opportunity and I also feel sad at the prospect of moving away from some very close friends and dear colleagues. [This has been my plight since childhood - move from a place as soon as I begin to build personal connections there- sigh!  In the last six months at N1, I have made some really good friends here!]

But, what I feel the most right now is gratitude. I am grateful to New1 for expressing an interest in my application and processing it in a very timely manner, grateful to N1 for understanding my professional needs and granting the necessary approvals [2] very smoothly, grateful to all my referees for sending in their letters at very short notice and for always supporting me in all my endeavours.  My initial plan was to apply a few months later and to more than one place so that I could give my referees sufficient time to write.  However, once my former advisor and second postdoc mentor assured me that they will write for me as soon as needed, I decided to avail this very good opportunity presented by New1.  After this, I contacted two other referees who also promptly sent in their letters.

I am also very grateful for the professional courtesy and the positive vibes that I encountered  during my interaction with the chairperson, members of the selection committee and other faculty members during the visit to New1 for my job talk and interview.

Coincidentally, this week, I am at New1 for a conference.  I have met many future colleagues and they have been very friendly, warm and welcoming, this making me look forward to the move.

Finally, I am so grateful to be in India at a time when there are so many opportunities to build a science career at new places which want you and also the opportunity to contribute towards building these places.






[1] The other possible names could be N2, NN1 etc. But, I like New1 the most.
[2] Applications to move from one government institute in India to another have to go through proper channels.  Thus, I had to take approval from the director at N1 to apply to New1.  I truly appreciate his cooperation in this matter. 

On guest houses

Earlier this week, I visited another institute and stayed at their guest house for a couple of days.  This GH had a very homely atmosphere.  I had one room of a big apartment with shared kitchen and dining facilities.  All the meals were cooked and served fresh by a resident caretaker (who reminded me of the proverbial Bansi kaka from Hindi movies).  It was sheer delight to have hot and puffed chapatis fresh off the pan for dinner (something that I don't enjoy at home also as my cook does the cooking and leaves before I return).  We were served hot Indian meals for breakfast as opposed to toast or cereal with milk.  The caretaker was also kind enough to serve us masala chai before we left in the morning and after we returned in the evening. Had I not been otherwise preoccupied, I might have stepped into the kitchen and taken some cooking lessons from him.

This visit brought back some pleasant memories of my fist visit to N1.

Every year, N1 goes through a rough time accommodating its new batch of students.  However, hosting visitors is not one of our problems.  Our authorities have been very conscious about maintaining a couple of small but decent guest houses so that we can invite and host visiting scientists without any constraints [1].
A very talented person from the hospitality industry was brought in to renovate some old, decrepit houses into functional guest houses.  Two of these guest houses, known as VIP guest houses, host senior and distinguished scientists and also new faculty members who stay there till they find a place of their own.  The only limitation is that these guest houses do not have a fully functional kitchen.  The visitors either eat at the hostel canteens or food is brought from outside and heated in a microwave before it is served.

There is another guest house, which hosts job candidates and faculty members who stay back on campus to teach early morning classes.  I stayed in this guest house during my first visit.  This guest house also did not have its own kitchen, but was located right next to the director's bungalow.  As the director stayed by himself in his bungalow,  he allowed some other rooms in a different part of the bungalow to be used for hosting guests.  The dining area of this house was also made accessible to institute visitors.  Thus it happened that during my four day visit to N1, I ended up having fresh, home-cooked meals prepared by the director's chef along with other visitors [and many a times, the director himself joined us].  

Due to a variety of reasons, this bungalow is not open to visitors any more.  Thus, institute guests are back to having packed meals in their rooms.

I was very impressed that the institute that I was visiting has made such comfortable long-term arrangements for their guests.  It's always nice to feel at home when traveling.

[1] However, earlier this month, it looked like we might have to convert our guest houses into hostels.  Fortunately, we were able to avoid this extreme step.

Moving bag and baggage to India

In the early February of 2010, it was confirmed that I will be moving to N1 city in India.  After the initial euphoria, it was time to plan the move.
The main component of the planning was, of course, how to get all my stuff back to India in one piece.  On the face of it, it did not look like a tough job.  I am not exactly the kind of person who owns Persian carpets or mink coats (even if I were, my postdoc salary could not buy me those things).  I was also not planning to transport any electronics (except my laptop and iPod, which would be carried by me on person).  My furniture was worth less than what it would have cost to move it.  So, books/notes, music, clothes and some kitchen things (like my ever-helpful pressure cooker) were all I needed to take back.  But, the volume turned out to be larger than I imagined.
The three options were
1) Send them in small batches through post.  This would be unnecessarily expensive and full of hassles to me (although it is a great idea for those wise people who have not accumulated excessive baggage and have just a box or two to send).
2) Hire a moving company that would ship the boxes from port to port.  Getting the boxes from home to the departure port and from the arrival port to N1 city would be my responsibility.
3) Hire a moving company that does door to door shipping.  This company also takes care of the customs formalities- you just have to hand them your passport for a few days after the shipment arrives at the port of entry.

Option 3 was more expensive than Option 2, but I went for it because I did not want to deal with customs authorities in India, nor did I want to hire yet another moving company in India to get the boxes to my house.
After that, I spent about a month researching different moving companies.  The price difference between companies was huge, but I also read several poor reviews about the cheaper ones which mentioned hidden costs and unethical practices (for example, demanding a higher amount than what was mentioned before and not releasing the goods till the extra amount is paid up or even threatening to destroy the goods).  Finally, I chose a company which had received mostly good reviews and whose head office was in the city from which I was moving.  They were more expensive, but at the end of the day, I was very happy with their services.
The second job was the packing.  Sometime in mid April, I started packing.  For customs purposes and also to be able to unpack smoothly, it is a good idea to write in detail the contents of each box.  The company also asks for the value of the goods in each box for insurance.  They also ask for total values of each category of products like books, CDs, clothes etc.  So, packing and recording every detail, though cumbersome, is essential.  The problem gets entirely eliminated if you also allow the moving company to pack for you (at an extra price of course), who will do the packing and listing for you in a couple of hours.  But, this was going beyond my budget.*
My initial phase of packing went very well, but I lost my regularity and motivation after a while.  A huge chunk of my packing was done in the last week before I left, thereby creating unnecessary stress.
Finally, I had to get rid of the furniture.  I advertised on Craigslist and Freecycle groups in my area and these items went away very quickly.
The last two days were very stressful because the boxes had to be moved, furniture disposed and apartment cleaned one after the other.  I was also very annoyed at the amount of things that I had to throw out just before leaving.  These had been lying around in my apartment for days without being used.  I resolved never to accumulate unnecessary things again and I am glad that my tiny apartment at N1 ensures that I follow my resolution.
Receiving my shipment at N1 city was quiet an experience.  I was told that I will receive it within 4 - 6 weeks.  After accounting for "Indian Standard Time", I put down the time to 8 weeks.  The goods arrived at N1 exactly 14 weeks after I saw them last!  Apparently, I had miscalculated Indian Standard Time!
My shipment arrived at the destination port city two months after departing from North America.  I was required to go to the customs office in the port city where they verified my passport, visa etc in person.  I was also quizzed about the value of my music CDs and a box which was supposed to have "fragile shrine items".  They were concerned that I was importing gold statues without declaring them!  An agent from the Indian partner of the moving company was with me.  He instructed me to play dumb and let him do all the talking (which I did happily)- I suspect that he was handling their subtle demands for bribes, but am not sure because I do not understand the local language.  The agent followed a "don't ask don't tell" policy with me.  One point that created some trouble was that my passport had a North American address and the authorities would not accept my house allotment letter at N1.  So, we had to go out and get an affidavit made.
It was a tiring day, but that was the end of my involvement with this whole business.
I had to give my passport and residency card to the company agent.  After that, the company dealt with the port authorities and delivered my goods- this took a total of six more weeks.  It was not exactly a pleasant experience to be left without my passport for six weeks.


Lessons for future academic movers:
1) Start getting rid of excess stuff in your apartment right away.
2) While packing, precisely list the values of all items.  Start packing in advance and pack as regularly as you can.
3) Words like shrine items, stuffed animals in the inventory list can cause trouble with customs.
4) If you are moving any electronics, make sure you have the purchasing bills ready.
5) Do not put your school and college certificates in the shipment.  These should be carried with you.  If you are joining a central government institute, you will be asked to produce these certificates as soon as you join.
6) Delegate the job of dealing with port authorities to the moving company - you really don't want to deal with those guys.  The company agents know exactly how to deal with them- I suspect that at the lower level, there is also a working partnership.
7) Wait patiently for the goods to be delivered and for your passport to be handed back to you.  There's not much else you can do.  So, just chill!!
8)With respect to moving companies, you get what you pay for.
9) If you know in advance what course you will teach on joining, keep the notes and materials related to this course with you and don't ship them.  By the time your shipment arrives, it may be the middle of the semester!

My next post will be about administrative matters you need to take care of once you are back in India.



*IIX institutes reimburse travel expenses up to Rs 90,000 for faculty members moving back from abroad.  This includes everything - shipping expenses and tickets for you and your family.  Depending on the institute, you might also be required to travel by Air India.  

Waiting to go home

As I mentioned in my previous post, I am now wrapping up a semester long visit  to North America. This has been a productive semester. I was glad to be able to talk to many people in my field. I was also glad to be able to focus completely on science and not deal with administrative work at N1.  
I am refreshed, rejuvenated and ready to go back home now.  My department has to take many important decisions in the coming weeks related to faculty hiring, supervising of grad students and course structure for our undergraduate and graduate programs.  I am all set to jump right into it.  While on my sabbatical, I had a chance to talk to some senior colleagues in North America, who have given me valuable advice about many of these matters. A few days ago, I was particularly fortunate to meet a British emeritus professor who started his career in the early sixties in one of the IITs.  He spent four years there before returning to England.  He generously shared his experiences with me.  Much of what he mentioned is very similar to the current situation in N1.  I felt very encouraged and inspired after talking to him.

While I was away, many important events have taken place at N1.  Many labs have moved into our new, permanent campus.  The students residence is also well underway and expected to be ready by the start of the next term.  This makes me very happy because when I joined last year, the new campus was not much more than a deserted piece of flat land.  I am very excited to see it quickly evolving into a proper institute campus!  

The other things that I am eagerly looking forward to are home-made freshly baked chapatis, drinking tea in a Kulhar at our institute's tea shop,  fresh milk and vegetables from local farms AND mangoes freshly plucked from  trees within our campus :)

Traveling unlimited

As a busy and productive sabbatical semester in North America draws to an end and I prepare to return to India, I am in a mood to relax and reminisce about my migrant life.

Traveling has been the most constant feature of my life.  As a child of a central government employee with a (very) transferable job and later as an academic, I lived in many different parts of India and later in North America.  

In particular, during my childhood years. I was never sure when and where I would be going next.  I have been to a dozen different high schools in the northern, western and north-eastern parts of India.  It was a very common situation for my father to arbitrarily return home some evening with a transfer order, usually to a town in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a school year.  It was awkward and difficult to adjust to a new school curriculum and teaching system in a different state and in the middle of the year, but my attentive and super-disciplined mother managed to pull me through. 

While it was great to live in various parts of the country (often called "tribal" areas by the city dwellers) with very different cultures and make new friends, it was equally painful to say goodbye to them abruptly and move on within a few months. In the internet-less era, I have burnt a lot of midnight oil (literally so because of electricity problems in these  remote towns) writing letters to friends in other remote towns which probably never reached them.  

I remember moving from a warm part of the country to the Himalayas in the chilly month of November and then moving back from the pleasant weather in the hills to a hot and scorching summer in the plains in the month of May.  Experience in dealing with sudden changes of climate was useful to me when I moved to a very cold place in the east coast of North America for grad school.

The first place where I stayed for five years at a stretch was my PhD university. Like many grad students, I grew very attached to PhD city and found it emotionally overwhelming to leave.  For a long time, I naively considered it home.  The attraction has weaned off over the years as almost all my friends there have also moved away, but I still feel excited at the prospect of visiting it again.

After that, I did postdocs in two more cities in North America.  By the time of my second postdoc, I got tired of all the traveling and instability and very much wanted to go to some place where I could live happily and permanently for the rest of my life.  I was almost ready to become a citizen of this country, when life threw up some pleasant surprises and I found myself in N1, back in India.  If all goes well, N1 might be the place where I will "live happily ever after", but who knows what the future holds?

Anyhow, within a few months of my stay at N1-city, I found myself ready to make another 5-month visit to North America.  Before returning to India, I plan to visit PhD city, postdoc 1 city and another city, where my postdoc 2 mentor now lives.   

Moving around was fun when I was a child and all the planning was done by my parents.  I just enjoyed life while my parents did all the hard work.  As a grad student/postdoc, I was in charge of my own moves** and it wasn't all that fun. The move back to India required strenuous planning, but was exciting nonetheless.  

Traveling after joining N1 has been the most fun because now I travel with the assurance that I have a secure, permanent abode to return to.  

** My North American friends helped me a lot with all my moves, something that I will always be grateful for.