My persistent fear during the last few days in London over the summer was whether I would once again be consumed by Oxford. Oxford in general, and Rhodes House in particular, are full of people with strong opinions, and the courage and fortitude to bring change. There are strong movements, and counter-movements. At around the same time, it seemed to me that opinions on my facebook wall reached a new level - with frequent exchanges between those who like Modi and those who dislike him. It made me agitated, and gradually that agitation made way for sadness.
I often wanted to sit down on my laptop and talk to some of those issues. I wanted to pose some questions, answer some that I knew about, and to generally try to put structure around these emotionally charged discussions. But I felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that my voice would be drowned. Overwhelmed by the fact that lines had already been drawn. Overwhelmed by the fact that maybe, just maybe, I am actually ignorant - that those who've taken positions understand it much better than I do.
But then I remembered that being overwhelmed is something I have felt before. I felt overwhelmed when, on seeing 'predicted scores' given by my teachers, my foreign admissions counsellor scoffed "as if you're ever going to get these." I felt overwhelmed when, long back, I worked very hard but never performed well academically. I felt overwhelmed when my friends were unfairly and unceremoniously ejected from student bodies. I felt overwhelmed when, despite my academic and extracurricular performance, I was never considered for any college awards. In each case, I felt hopeless and lost as I now do. And in each case, I did what my parents taught me best - to quietly work hard - to finally find redemption.
Today, I have come to a position of extreme privilege. I started life riding the wave of opportunities that my parents created for me, an already privileged existence in the Indian context. Mile by mile, I have travelled so far that I am now well entrenched in the system. Where do I go from here?
For the answers, I looked back. My greatest journeys were ones of service. Service towards friends, acquaintances, and even strangers. At those times, when I was faced with heart-break, humiliation, jealousy, angst and so, so many strong emotions, the idea of service lead me to the state where I am. If there is something that has motivated me unlike anything else, it is this idea of service. And that is something I have tried to do over the past few weeks. For example, this year my birthday was preceded and followed by several days of doubt, like it has for the past 5-6 years. I wanted to do something meaningful, and found that meaning in donating money at milaap. I have immersed myself with RSSAF's consulting work so that I can find myself creating change in people's lives. One of the organisations I consulted came back with the case of a severely handicapped girl in Uganda. I have no context or specialisation - with disability, with gender, with sub - saharan Africa. And yet, I was moved to action. By an unspoken, yet compelling bond. By the idea of service.
What does this imply for my participation in discussions and movements that I am surrounded by? The idea of service, to me, is to reduce myself to zero - to nothingness. Because my service will remain insufficient if I look at it with eyes tained with myself, and my experiences. This insignificance brings clarity, and clarity brings a fortitude that is unshakeable. Towards this simplicity, and that strength, I seek to move.
