“Life is too short to be rolling tape.”

As I was explaining the intent of my summer project at RCA, I was blown away by a friend’s response. “We’re designing a portable lighting device for the rural context of Mali”, I was telling him when he interrupted me to ask- “Designing a light? What is there to design in a light? It’s just a bulb!” Hmm. Where do I start? I have had this conversation many, many times over, and yet I cannot see an escape. No solution, no light, no answers. Why, why?! If the arts are so pointless, why do they even survive today? Why do they exist, and why are they highly valued in developed societies? Why do so many people want to be designers in rich countries, so as to oversubscribe to university seats? “A designer’s work is his reward, unlike Bankers who have to be paid excessively to be kept at their desk.” Is this ever going to be true in the Indian context? This question might just take my lifetime to find a peaceful retreat.

“Nobody ever wins or loses when it comes to women. You just talk about your feelings until your breath is sucked out of your body; all men are pawns when it comes to women, especially the smart ones.”

It is easy to identify good friends – the ones who really care about you and want good things to happen to you – they are behind every expressed doubt, concern and unsure tone. They are the ones who say, “Are you sure about this?” and “You’re being really stupid” or “Just wait. You must learn to have patience.” If somebody corrects you, they’re definitely good-friend-material. If they express an awkward silence to a decision that you secretly know is wrong, they’re doing you a favour. And when they sincerely want to know everything going on in your life from one continent and an ocean away, they’re changing your life.

Some moments in time cannot be erased from memory; they are safeguarded, soft and delicate, in the deep pockets of one’s mind. Those that make some impossibly long journeys worth the wait, those that refresh your tired mind with just one image, those that give you courage to stop doing the wrong things, those that are worth fighting for, and those that keep your faith alive. They are rare and precious – and as I gather them with passing time, I realize I have been deeply fortunate. How did I get here? When did I begin to matter? I cannot believe this feeling – of acceptance and love – and it makes me grateful for this day, all the time accepting that tomorrow might be different. In the meanwhile though, I smile to myself as I think of Varun, and the 15-second hug that was worth it all.