November Notes

 

For the past two or three years, the month of November has been so eventful for me. I was not someone who travelled much, before I joined my PhD. My grandmother used to warn me in my childhood that “Sunday Park, Monday tour” is not a good habit. My father, who listened to his mother in everything, repeated the same to me. So, throughout my childhood, my world remained within a 20-kilometre radius around our home in Chittur, and around my mother’s home in Bangalore. During my college days, friends and even my ex-boyfriend used to invite me on trips. But I was always too afraid to ask permission at home, because I knew very well that my father’s answer would be a single syllable; “No”. He would not even give any further explanation. It was easier for me to decide not to go than to face the disappointment that used to be there with that “no.” Years later, when the first time I finally made a plan with two of my friends, COVID happened and the country went into lockdown the very next day. How auspicious, right? Indeed.

Anyway. I was talking about November.

After joining the PhD, I began travelling to places as part of conferences (Or rather, in the name of conferences, maybe). In 2022 November, for the first time in my life, I stepped out into a place far beyond my familiar world, with no extra thinking and no preparation. Bhubaneswar. My only motivation was that my friend from Pondicherry University was there, and I could meet her. I didn’t even bother to ask if anyone else from my university would be attending the conference. That was also my first flight journey. I loved that trip. Watching clouds sitting at the window seat of the flight, staying with a group of new people for a few days, seeing places I had never seen before, meeting some good humans and some questionable humans. Arpit, Molly chechi, Monalisha, Arya Chechi… I remember Aarya Chechi from EFLU, who was my roommate, came with her family. Sitting with her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, she was telling us how becoming a mother had always been her lifelong dream. It was something I could never relate to. I visited the Jagannath Temple in Puri, the Sun Temple in Konark, and the Lingaraja Temple in Bhubaneswar, but what stayed with me more than the sights was the feeling of stepping beyond my comfort zone.

The friends from my early PhD days had finished their courses and moved on. A new circle was forming around me. It was then that the next November arrived. Anushree had quit her Thanjavur job and had come back to campus by then. My closest circle then was Shahi and Shilpa, and I was slowly getting closer to Manisha. The four of us had to go to Bangalore for the wedding of Shahi’s sister. Shahi, with her huge friends’ network, had invited a bunch of her friends for the wedding too. It was the first intimate wedding I ever attended; no rigid timeline, no rush. The bride, groom, and everyone else simply rose and participated in the ceremony in their own rhythm. The poojas and mantras went on their way, and we on the other side, chilled. Community naps, community meals, community gossips... And of course, convincing Shilpa and Manisha, the two least coordinated dancers on the earth, to perform at the Sangeet! What delightful chaos that was! That was where we first met Sreeraj and Rahul, two of shahi’s Mallu friends. Sree and Rahul were energy pops. From the moment we met, they instantly became a good company. Amid the seriousness, the weariness, and the slow grind of our PhD lives, that wedding was a rare moment of laughter, dancing, and pure joy. Even the long lost sense of togetherness that COVID had taken from all of us returned, if only for a few days.

 

Last November, however, was the longest and most eventful of them all. I travelled to not just one but three different places. I, who had hardly ever stepped outside South India, suddenly found myself heading to Shillong for a conference. The Northeast had always been a place I had only heard about and never imagined I would reach. When NEHU postponed the conference at the last minute, Sreenathettan and I decided to use our already booked flight tickets to explore Meghalaya. In Shillong, it was Muzu and Anshumi who made a home for us. After NEHU, there was another conference in Hue City, Vietnam, with a week’s gap in between. It was Nithinettan who gave the idea that instead of coming back to Hyderabad in between, to stay somewhere like Delhi and fly from there. Naturally, why would I be worried when Rensa is in Delhi?

And so began my journey on November 10th, 2024.
Hyderabad → Shillong → Delhi → Vietnam → Delhi → back to Hyderabad.

Almost a month-long journey. Different lands, different climates, different topographies… New food, new buildings, new cultures… We’ll talk about the adventures of that trip in detail some other time. This space won’t be enough.

So, what I wanted to tell you is….

Every journey teaches you how to live. It brings out the strengths that you never knew you had. It builds social skills that you didn’t realize you were missing. Strangers become friends. People who barely spoke become important to you because of that one shared trip. People you never expected to meet again become home. You learn to endure, to be patient, to let go, to stay silent. Just as the Earth keeps turning, just as day follows night, just as seasons come and go, you realize everything has its own rhythm. You learn what you belong to, and what belongs to you. You witness big fights, big arguments. You escape major dangers by a hair’s breadth. You trust unknown drivers in unknown places with your life and somehow feel safe.

Like that.

This time, from the moment November began, both my mind and Google have been whispering, “Darling, last year this time you were here, before that you were there… This year too, shouldn’t you go somewhere?”

No.
I’m not going.
Not going anywhere.

Sometimes, not going anywhere is also necessary.