On Twitter

It's been a few months since I became active on twitter. I use my handle to share things that I'm learning about digital identity. Given the active and often acrimonious discourse around Aadhaar, my twitter feed is often full of tweets from individuals who are very passionate about this subject. There have been a few times that I've been attacked either personally or as part of the organisation that I am part of. Of course, my nature is to not be drawn towards anything I perceive as negative or aggressive. But the way discussions play out on twitter leaves me dejected.

I feel saddened that people fail to realise that, at the end of the day, it's just an individual on the other side. An individual who has similar aspirations, fears and motivations as us. As much as we highlight the differences between us and ascribe ulterior motives (greed, lust for power, etc.) to the 'other', I strongly believe that there's something unifying between us. It is true that our values differ and those values result in different actions. But, in any case, values are social constructs. The foundations underlying human actions are emotions. And here, we have more in common.

If this is true, then respecting another individual irrespective of the opinion he/she holds is paramount. If I cannot respect the individual on the other side, how do I respect myself? If respect and courtesy becomes a function of opinions and other things, what will prevent me tomorrow from expanding the set of independents to include more and more variables?

The viciousness and aggression that media like twitter unleash, even among so-called 'liberal' circles, has surprised me. In such an environment, self-reflection becomes all but impossible. And if self-reflection becomes difficult publicly, it would lead to a deterioration in public discourse because all of us would only put our best (and safest) foot forward.

But what does this mean for me personally? The train has left the station on this one and I feel powerless before the larger forces that drive this medium. I'm glad that twitter didn't exist when I was younger, impressionable and more prone to hurt. Today, I can carry on a difficult discourse on twitter, while at the same time turning to Facebook, a smaller circle, to talk about my own learnings in life. I shudder to think of a world where the aggression of online fora would silence me and many others. Till then, this is perhaps a battle worth fighting. A battle to create safe spaces online.

Three times they said I can't

As the nation celebrated its 70^th year of independence, the word ‘independent’ means different things to us. Both patriotism and cynicism can be seen in ample measure on social media. Many of us will refer to the independence from British colonial brutality. While that was an important objective by itself, independence is much more than freedom from oppression. To me, independence is the freedom to be the navigator of one’s own destiny. As a nation, that’s a path that we finally got on to 70 years back. We’ve done quite well for ourselves. Even our worst outcomes, including corrupt politicians and demagogic leaders, has all been the result of our democratic process. Good or bad, whatever decisions have been made were ours.

Independence is also something that we fight for in our everyday lives. So many of my female friends need to fight that battle with society and their families, which have a particular expectation of what females should and (more importantly) shouldn’t do. We also strive for independence from society’s pressures, expectations and fears. It’s a battle that all of us navigate all the time. Therefore, this independence day, I want to talk about three times when those around me provided advice that I eventually discarded. I see many friends get discouraged by what people around them say; they let their thoughts be coloured by the fears and biases of those they listen to. I believe that independence from fear is important as we strive towards something that we believe in. If there’s one lesson that I hold very dear, it is the lesson to not let others dictate the path of my life.

1) You will not get the Rhodes Scholarship

After spending a year as a management consultant at McKinsey, I decided to apply for the Rhodes Scholarship. When I was at St. Stephen’s, we perceived the scholarship as some sort of mythical distinction bestowed upon those who displayed a high degree of academic, extra-curricular or sports achievement. When I reached out to my professors for their recommendations, one of the senior professors remarked, “but they won’t give you the scholarship now.” I protested and said that my break from academics won’t prevent me from doing well in the course. “It’s not about the coursework – that’s not the hard bit. Once you’ve been marked with the corporate sector, they wouldn’t want to give it to you.” One of my closest friends at that time said later, “I support you in this, but realistically, there’s no way you would get the scholarship. You’ve worked in the corporate sector, after all.” On the day of the interview, I felt I had nothing to lose and had an interesting interview experience. While one of the panel members later told me that my inclusion had been a contentious decision, I did finally make it.

2) Indians don’t get a distinction on the M.Phil.

After having done poorly on my first-year macroeconomics paper, I thought that I might fail the first year of my M.Phil. At a party that evening, I ran into an Indian senior from the course, who comforted me that I would easily pass that particular paper. However, she added, “Doing well will be difficult because Indian degrees don’t prepare us well for this course.” Throughout the year, I heard about how difficult the math was, how demanding the assignments were and how competitive the classmates were. The pressure weighed quite heavily on me, especially the insinuation that it has something to do with my country and its economic degrees. I also wanted to prove that one could do well in the degree without studying all the time. I lived the two best years of my life through parties, dinners, dancing and travel. The challenge of it all egged me on. I remember listening to patriotic Bollywood songs right before my M.Phil. exams. I did well eventually, easily getting a distinction on the degree.

3) Non-engineers, non-doctors don’t do well on the CAT

This is one that I had heard way too often. The story went that engineers and doctors are so much better at math, and in general so much more hard-working, that they easily outperform others on the CAT. This, it was said, led the IIMs to relax entry requirements for non-engineers and non-doctors. Having not taken the engineering entrance examinations, I didn’t know how I stacked up against engineers. I internalised the logic to such an extent that I started believing that I’m bad at maths. I worked hard, very hard, on the quantitative section of the paper. Eventually, that paid off. I scored a 100 percentile on the CAT. The only non-engineer, non-doctor to do so.

Over time, as we earn more - money, reputation, relationships - we become more risk averse. We start wanting to protect what we have and lose the fearlessness of youth. Fear creeps in. That is when I find it useful to remind myself that there were times when people who mattered to me said that I can't do something, that I listened to myself and did it anyway, and that I succeeded. I look forward to listening from you about the times when you ignored those negative voices and your stories of personal triumph!

On Depression

"But Subbu, we can't be this weak" my friend said to me, beseeching me to not follow through on my decision to go to a psychologist. "What are you lacking in life? You've done so well, you're in Oxford. Think of all those who don't have what you have."

It was thankfully the second time that I had gone through a very rough patch. In the second year of St. Stephen's College, I first encountered what depression meant. My behaviour became increasingly erratic and I was often in a self-destructive mode. I placed almost all my relationships under tremendous pressure. It was a terribly lonely time. I remember my nineteenth birthday, when my friends had decorated a classroom and were celebrating, but I was crying because I couldn't get myself to feel happy. Soon after, I understood that this was just unnatural and that I needed to do something about it. With the help of medication and counselling, I pulled myself out of that. I scored a 100 percentile in CAT, stood 1st in St. Stephen's College, joined McKinsey, became a Rhodes Scholar and went to Oxford. I was on top of the world. Till I hit a rough patch again.

The second time was, in comparison, a breeze. I was sure of what I needed to do and didn't spend a lot of time engaging with my friends' unreasonable concerns. I was at ease telling friends and acquaintances that my transition to Oxford had hit a rough patch and I will be seeking professional help. The reactions surprised me and had it not been for my past experience, I may have struggled in the dark. Many around me, in fact, did!

Listen, don't solve

Having been through depression twice, I realised that what I sought was just someone to talk to. My friends in India were always there to help out and solve the problem for me, but sometimes I didn't need solving, I only needed a patient, non-judgmental ear. Therefore, for the next year-and-a-half at Oxford, I sought out other Scholars who weren't feeling great and spent time with them drinking coffee, having meals, practicing mindfulness and, in general, just listening to them. 

There need not be a reason for depression

For example, Rhodes Scholars are all achievers in their respective communities, but that doesn't prevent them from feeling depressed once they are in Oxford. There may be very obvious reasons, like the lack of sunshine to being in a strange country. Many break up with their long-time partners during their time at Oxford. 

There are two reasons why seeking the reason is often a futile exercise. I define depression as the breakage of the link with perfect rationality. In that situation, seeking to find a reason can place tremendous burden on a mind that is already possibly over-thinking. The second is that there is often no reason! While my second episode emanated from a tumultuous relationship in Oxford, I still struggle to articulate why the first one happened.

Seek Professional Help

The first time I sought professional help was almost accidental. I casually remarked to my brother one evening that I may need to see a counsellor. That evening, he took a flight from Mumbai to Delhi and took me to one. What started as a casual remark ended up as a three month engagement with medication and counselling that, regrettably, I abruptly ended. However, as soon as I sensed in Oxford that I may be in a similar situation again, I had alerted a few close friends. An incident of misjudgement convinced me that I should see a counsellor.

The first two sessions was only about hearing. The counsellor only asked me questions and at no point did he interject or advise me. Then, in the third session, he put together what I had said and helped me see the deep-seated issues that had been the cause of my issues. What I had thought were causes were only symptoms of something more fundamental.

I therefore recommend professional help, sooner rather than later, for anyone who is facing mental health issues. You can try, and may even succeed, to alleviate the immediate causes. But counselling helps because (a) you're talking to someone who has studied this in far more detail than your friends and family (b) as unique as you may think your problem is, it may fit a template that the counsellor has seen before.

It isn't Weakness

The question of weak or not is, honestly, besides the point. At some point, I was weak. I exercised and I became stronger. Therefore, even if I say that going to a counsellor was a sign of weakness, I exercised it and now feel that I can breeze through situations that other people may find challenging.

My greatest professional triumphs have come soon after my most difficult moments. Mental health issues are risks and opportunities. If they go unaddressed for too long, they might become festering wounds that interfere with other aspects of your life. But I see them as opportunities to build the foundations for future success. In particular, I have used the second episode as a springboard to let go of a lot of worries and focus on my happiness. 

Reach out!

The most important thing to remember when you're going though depression is that you aren't alone. I've always found tremendous support from family, friends and even acquaintances. Of course, not everyone will know how to help. I found it helpful to tell people what to do, rather than tell them that I have a problem and I need them to solve it for me. At the end of the day, you are the charioteer of your life. Every decision you make, whether in joy or in depression, is your own. Hence, accept it and own it. But incase you don't know where to start, do feel free to reach out to me and I'd be happy to talk.

Learning Forever

In a poignant scene from the movie Dangal, Mahavir Phogat tells his daughter to not forget how she reached where she had. That’s a very important lesson in life – one which we are all aware of, but probably do not follow as well. As I get ready to welcome the new year, I look back at all these years and there are the obvious pivotal moments of life – for example, moving to DPS, topping the boards, getting the Rhodes. But those set of ‘achievements’ masks the numerous ‘actions’ that led to them, that have shaped me as a person. I remember that when I was putting in the 13-hour study days back in middle school, I was always thinking that I wasn’t focussing enough on the foundations. I realise that I invested in several actions which didn’t have immediate payoffs, but have increased the probability of success now.

The most important, perhaps, is reading the newspaper for an hour every day. At first, it was a chore that I forced myself to perform. But very soon, it became something that I looked forward to. It has helped me increase my knowledge of the world around me. Is that knowledge useful? Perhaps. It certainly helps me build credibility when I am talking to people. In my opinion, it is one thing to be a subject matter expert and another to know a lot of different things. I tend to find the latter more engaging and interesting.

The second, surprisingly, would be health. For over ten years now, my body’s inherent weaknesses have been obvious to me and hence I have been trying very hard to improve my health. From waking up at six to go swimming to running through Christ Church meadows in the biting cold. Of course, when I moved to the UK, I realised that there was nothing unique in the effort that I put in. Yet, I do believe that compared to people around whom I grew up and my own past self, I was putting in a lot of effort. In the last year or so, the effort has intensified further with the entry into the gym. Hopefully, I will be able to race ahead of my body’s natural degenerative tendencies soon!

The third has been, boringly, hard work. What I mean is that I often participated in things without thinking too much about whether it made a ton of sense. Every experience is enriching and the more the experiences, the more enriching life becomes. I remember the one time when I heard about peers in school participating in a TV show on NDTV Metro Nation where over a dozen kids discussed issues. I swallowed my shyness and approached teachers who had never taught me and got myself to one of those shows. A few months down the line, having participated in a few more such shows, I found myself hosting a 10 – minute segment on the show all by myself. What a unique experience!

The fourth and perhaps the most important one is sacrifice. It has often been quite senseless and doesn’t always make sense to me. To put yourself out there (like I do when writing this blog) and to take a bit of the burden off others’ back and on to yourself is a high-risk proposition. Of course, I do it not expecting any reward or reciprocity. But I now see that it has helped me develop deep relations with people around me.

To be honest, I am getting complacent in life and forgetting many of these things that have helped me reach an economically secure position in life. For example, I think I have now become far more self-centred than I have ever been before. While change is a natural process and I do not want to unnecessarily resist it, I also want to create enough evidence that these activities and values are not required anymore. I see my life as an experiment and I want to extract as much learning as I can. To quite Mahavir Phogat from the movie, the first battle is with fear. Once fear has been conquered, the main battle is only of secondary importance. 

No Tears for Indians

The story of famines in India starts and ends with British rule. The Great Bengal famine of 1770 was the first famine in India in the 18th century. Occurring merely six years after British rule commenced in India, it is estimated to have killed 10 million people in Bengal, nearly a third of the population of the province. Nearly two centuries later, the Bengal famine of 1943 took a toll of about 4 million, even while Indian foodgrain was sent to fuel the British war effort. Between 1770 and 1943, it is estimated that 30 to 35 million Indians perished in famines. No famine has ever taken place in independent India. The British Government's response ranged from the indifferent to the contemptuous. The 'temple wage' offered to famine victims during the Great Famine of 1876-78 provided less sustenance for hard labour than that received by Buchenwald concentration camp victims. On being told about the horrors of the 1943 famine, Churchill caustically remarked 'why hasn't Gandhi died yet?' 

I've been reading Shashi Tharoor's latest book, An Era of Darkness, and even though the general contours of British exploitation of India were known to me, the book presents a moving picture of the horrors that this land has seen. He does a great job of taking each argument given in favour of British rule in India, some of which (eg. railways) I also grudgingly acknowledged, and presents evidence to discredit it. Yes, the British laid out an expansive railway network in India. But these lines did not just serve as a medium of British economic exploitation, but were built at a much higher price than elsewhere in the world. British investors, who formed over 99 percent of the funders of the projects, were guaranteed a 5% rate of return, all of it subsidised by taxes in India. This added to a massive drain of wealth already occurring from India to Britain.

Yet, in conversations I've heard abroad, I do not see an acknowledgement of what Indians went through. There is a general acknowledgement of colonial rule and that it was bad. But the details are either unknown or ignored. We are talking about a highly evolved civilisation, an economic powerhouse with the largest economy in 17001 - bigger than China's, more than all of West Europe and 3.5x bigger than all of Africa. The silence on India violated every democratic norm - at 16% of the world population, the issues of this country, past and present, should get more representation in the global discourse. At the other extreme, this is outright contempt towards Indians. For example, a few weeks back, I saw a South African Rhodes Scholar, an activist for black rights, incite hatred against Indians on Facebook.

I've struggled to understand what causes this indifference. Perhaps it is the fact that we as a country have done reasonably well after independence. Perhaps it is the fact that, in keeping with our 'live and let live' philosophy (Indian has not invaded another country in its entire history), we do not create a noise about the past injustices. Perhaps it is the fact that, unlike other non-Asian people of colour, we do not live among our past subjugators in enough numbers to merit their attention. Sometimes, I feel defeated when I think that recent moves against racism are also being run on the whims and fancies of people from former colonising nations, representing their preferences more than anything else. On the other hand, and less flatteringly, it may just be that we've kept ourselves so busy in our raucous democracy and (still) arguing with each other that we haven't formed a unified voice globally.

But what does all of this mean for us as Indians today? It is obviously not about reparations, which in any case our former colonial masters will be unable to pay us. Some may seek an apology, but I am sceptical whether that will ever come. We've been waiting for years for an apology for the Jallianwala Bagh massacre, but British PMs come and leave the memorial without an outright apology. What I think we should take away is to resist any move to exploit us in future.

The last book I read before Tharoor was Michael Oren's Ally. Keeping aside my views on the Israel issue, the one thing I took away from the book was the Israel Government's thinking of 'never again' being vulnerable to something like the Holocaust. Similarly, we as Indians must resist the same old colonial arguments being presented in new bottles.

To me, the most obvious example is climate change. At a time when nearly 300 million Indians do not have any electricity access, India cannot afford to and must not accept any climate change agreement that doesn't recognise our right to energy. I was talking to a friend at Rhodes House once, a climate change activist, who put the blame squarely on India's 'population problem.' It was heartbreaking to see this friend repeat what used to be a British excuse for the famine deaths. Churchill, whose bust now sits proudly in the White House, said that famine would do nothing because 'indians breed like rabbits.' The context might have changed, the causes might have changed, but some biases are hard to get rid of. Even in the enlightened atmosphere of our left-liberal echo chambers.

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1 - Sourced from Contours of the World Economy, 1-2030 AD by Angus Maddison

Quarter - life Crisis

This week marked exactly five years since my CAT result. I read a few articles with quotes from the this year's toppers and it reminded me of a time when my own life and aspirations used to be clearer and simpler. There were no tough choices, no ambiguity and very little doubt. There was a universally accepted brass ring to aim for and life was a pleasant struggle towards it. Five years later, there is no obvious next step. There are choices to be made, assuming there is any clarity at all on what those choices lead to. Motivation is a far more difficult task today than it was five years back.

But these intervening five years have also given me enough lessons to wade through these turbid waters. Like many of my peers who are hitting the quarter-life crisis, I still do not have answers and my thoughts vacillate between enjoying the fruits of past hard work to finding something meaningful to do in life. Which brings me to the first lesson I have learnt - sometimes, you wait for the motivation to come to you. 

After I had topped the boards in 2009, I hit a rough patch where I thought that nothing I would ever do would match up to that achievement. Three years later, I topped the CAT and it seemed lightning had struck twice. At that point, I became convinced that nothing I would do in life could match those twin peaks. With this perceived reality in mind, I joined McKinsey and worked quietly, having accepted a mundane existence. I also read up on economics and about areas that I had found interesting in college but didn't have time to pay attention to. Outwards, I told myself that I would return to do a masters' degree, but that ambition was too loose to have been taken seriously then. However, one year down the line, I applied for the Rhodes Scholarship and thereby undertook one of the most pleasant experiences of my life. Sure, the Rhodes might be overshadowed by the other two things on my CV, but I wouldn't trade those two years for anything else. During my two years at McKinsey, I stay put and did my duty - motivation found me eventually!

But at the time of leaving McKinsey, I had a plethora of choices before me. I had landed a job in a private equity firm. A venture capital firm was asking me to drop that offer and interview with them. I had the Rhodes offer. There was the option of continuing at McKinsey. For the first time, I was faced with many choices and each choice very different from the other. Then came the second lesson - as you grow older, the choices and the associated costs keep increasing. Life cannot and will not remain as simple as it used to be. These choices, therefore, should not be treated as a burden but as a privilege. Deepika Padukone says to Ranbir Kapoor in Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani in a different context that there are many choices in life and some of the choices that we leave will no doubt be amazing. But you cannot be everywhere and hence you should enjoy the present. I do not know if working at the private equity firm would have been better or worse. I only know that I went to Oxford and that I enjoyed it.

Five years later, life seems generally less exciting. But I realise that it isn't because it actually is, but because I've become accustomed to a new normal. I have accumulated privileges, money, achievements, relations, duties and many other things that tie me to a particular way of life; and like any other 'change', there are positive and negative aspects to it. The positive is that I now have several tools and resources to pursue my ambitions and be impactful. Unlike earlier, I can actually craft what success looks for me rather than be told what it is. With time on my side, I'm not in a tearing hurry to get somewhere. I only want to make sure that wherever I get to is where I really want to be.

A week of turbulence: Trump's election victory

The past week was as difficult for me as it was for several people around me. For nearly six months now, I have been obsessively tracking the elections in the US and it has, to put it mildly, been a roller-coaster ride. My now abandoned blog on politics is testimony to my interest in politics around the globe. But this time was different.  I experienced Donald Trump's victory very personally, not with the academic interest that I have usually displayed for American elections. 

A few months back, when I was going through a difficult time, I came up with the idea of a 'web of dependencies' to explain why the burden of sadness in my life had remained constant despite me making so much progress personally and professionally. Buddha called attachment - to people, things etc - the cause of sadness. As we go out there and expand the number of people, things and circumstances that we're used to, we throw the 'web of dependencies' farther and wider. By virtue of having crossed the seas two years back, my net has grown a lot and it is now difficult for me to ignore happenings in places which earlier didn't matter.

There are two images that sum up why I feel so agitated about this result. The first is of a Latina who's in the US on a dodgy visa barely making ends meet. I was in the UK during the Brexit vote, going through a difficult personal situation. The uncertainty of those days crushed my spirit. The expected clampdown on immigration scared me. I wasn't sure whether I could pull through those difficult times, whether I could ensure my continued existence in a few months' time. It didn't help that the world around me suddenly seemed more hostile. From reading about news of racial attacks to being called 'black' and 'poor' on the streets of London, it only heightened my anxieties. By the grace of those who loved and supported me, I find myself in a good situation today. However, my heart bleeds for those who are now in America and can potentially be affected by this outcome. I cannot imagine the fear of those who are quasi-legal immigrants and of vulnerable minorities like LGBT people who've won their freedoms after a really long struggle. Even if not all of these come to fruition, like it hasn't thus far in Britain, just the fear of the next few months will be immense. Nobody deserves that!

The second image is of an American colleague's four year old son who said to him, "daddy, I saw Donald Trump on television. He always wins." The idea that someone who talked about grabbing women 'by the pussy' and has denigrated muslims and latinos among many others is going to be 'leader of the free world' is a deeply distressing thought. What message will we pass on to our sons — that how you treat women is irrelevant? And what about the daughters — that their dignity is optional and only at the mercy of men? I grew up in India and have experienced first hand how different the quality of life between me and many of my female friends is. The last thing we need is for that template to spread instead of dying out. This is a big setback for some of the values that I hold dear to me. As I have met people from different backgrounds, I have confronted some of my own biases and most often have found my prejudices disappear rather quickly. The idea that all of us deserve respect is now a non-negotiable for me. The fact that this was one of the things at stake and that it lost is distressing for me.

My immediate reaction to such disturbing news is to shut myself out and focus on my work. At the time of turbulence after the Brexit vote, I ignored everything else happening around me and focussed on my upcoming examinations. The better-than-expected result was probably a result of my desperate attempt to keep the endless thoughts out of my head. One option for me right now, and for those who are struggling with the same emotions as I am, is to dedicate ourselves to our work. Thankfully for me, the work I do is socially meaningful and is exactly the kind of assurance that I need at this stage.

However, that would be the easy way out. That will leave unaddressed the issues that got us to this position. Bigotry isn't something that will cease overnight, it has to be changed. All it takes for evil to triumph is for good people to not do anything. When I got back to India, I pledged to call out sexism every single time that I saw it. The goals like are much bigger, of course. Many of us in India are gloating that we don't have such xenophobic tendencies, but the reality is that we do. The only reason we don't notice is because we have low hanging fruits. Some day these fruits will run out and our frustrations will then be directed at the 'outsider.' We should prepare for that day already and in the meantime assuage the anger that is sweeping through the world. It all starts with kindness. I am very, very scared. But it is only when I have been scared that I have found myself capable of doing things that make me proud of myself. I am hoping that all of us can discover that something that makes us tick and get through this difficult time.