thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

On the topic of a broken generation

Turn on the news, open your favorite social media app, or listen to the strangers a table over get into a discussion on politics, and you’ll think is that there’s a lot more negativity in the world these days- at least, that’s what it feels like. Maybe there’s not really an increase so much as more coverage for more brutality, callousness, and corruption on a never ending loop. And maybe none of this it is new, but instead a repeat of what we spent our school life learning we had moved on from. It’s frustrating and a bit scary- we saw those atrocities in our textbooks and thought how? Why? And now we see them happening in real time, helpless to do anything but ask “How? Why?” again. Society was supposed to be better, more intelligent and more accepting than it was back then. And yet it seems that the cruelties have merely turned into tacit realities of our world. Simply thinking of dealing with any piece of it is overwhelming, so the only answer is to stop thinking. At all.

As a whole we’re become a tad bit too desensitized, too used to violence and bloody murder and the loss of the division between good and bad. It’s hard to differentiate what you’ve been told and what you believe, and the line of morality is a thin one. The problem is deciding which facts you actually believe in and where they fall on that line.  

But instead of facing up to the problem, people turn on each other. The most popular response seems to be blaming everything that ‘kids these days’ do. Or if it’s about politics, it’ll be ‘kids these days’ from one culture against the other. Every subgroup of society is pitted against the other at one point or another. And so we hear how ‘kids these days’ are too soft. Too politically correct. They want everything handed to them, they’re so entitled. Lazy. Ungrateful. They don’t understand anything about the real world.

The problems we try to point out aren’t ‘real’ only because we’re pointing them out when others want us to turn a blind eye.

Because what’s going on here is that these kids are trying to understand things. Things like sexuality and gender and unfamiliar cultures, which have in the past been so strictly defined, are now entirely new subjects when you take the shackles off. It’s not “PC,” it’s just kindness, acceptance. I’m not sure when that concept lost value, and when it became ‘cool’ and ‘edgy’ to mock and shame and belittle, when that’s honestly the most mainstream thing you can do.

Once isolated to those around us and like us, changing times have exposed  us to much more of the world; and as it is, a lot of the negative seems to be getting louder. This, unfortunately, seems to be drowning out the cries of the other side. Because as instability rises, economically and politically, and those issues that kids are trying to work through become issues of public concern, a toll is extracted from the population. For all the kindest people trying to bring balance to the negativity, a lot of the nicest and most sensitive, understanding people I’ve seen are struggling- mentally, spiritually, however you want to put it. And that struggle doesn’t come simply from a lack of faith or just monetary-related problems. A lot of it has to do with increased pressure from every aspect of life while attempting to deal with a loss of purpose and identity

It seems that the more aware you are of the world, the more aware it is back, and the more it saps you of your strength and willpower and energy.

The more aware we are, the more it leaves us broken people.

In a globalized world changing faster than we can understand, we’re trying to find purpose, trying to find identity, peace, and balance. Trying to accept ourselves in a world that tells us not to. And a lot of the problem is that we just don’t understand how to fight back or what we’re fighting for. There seems to be too much wrong, and all of it seems beyond reach. What’s the point in fighting the inevitable?

Then beyond the spiritual questions, the mundane struggles add to the weight. Rates of depression and suicides are increasing, and college fees are also skyrocketing. There’s a disappearing middle class- some people have access to all of the opportunities and benefits of a capitalist world, while others have disproportionately less access. The environment is deteriorating at a disturbing rate as pollution rates climb. World hunger and poverty are connected to an increasing number of public health problems while the developed world is falling victim to diseases of excess. That’s the dichotomy of the world right now, with both sides turning to gut us.

Then there are the personal struggles that keep ‘kids these days’ from focusing on the big picture. It’s harder to live on minimum wage, harder to get a higher education, to get an apartment or a house, to pay of student debt. And personal can’t stay personal when politics continues to turn these battles into higher stake ones. It’s no wonder, really. We are a broken generation.

And that’s the crux of the thing, isn’t it? For all that we’re supposed to be reckless youth without a care, unaware of our own mortality, we’re living a different reality. Instead, we’re cynical and pessimistic because of the world we have been raised in. What’s going on right now in the world – terrorism, xenophobia, homophobia, sexism, undeclared wars and civilian casualties, economic crashes- keeps everyone reluctant to look outside of their immediate surroundings, because it’s already enough to deal with. You have the current farce in America, turning democracy and politics into a sham. And it’s all being broadcasted 24/7 wherever you turn, on television and online blogs and social media. This is what we are watching. We’re watching this as young adults trying to find something to believe in, and the next generation is watching, knowing already that there’s nothing to believe in.

If we look to relatively recent history, a pivotal moment in American politics was Nixon’s scandals, coming to light through his tapes, and at the top was Watergate. Before Nixon, American had unrealistic trust in their government. Maybe they didn’t always like it, but that faith existed nonetheless. But after the proof that our leaders were so far from infallible, our government now carries a stigma. Don’t trust it. Don’t trust authority. Authority isn’t a threat we’re stupid reckless kids, but because we’re intelligent enough to be wary, aware enough to know better to put faith in something that we all unanimously agree is corrupt.

Now there’s a President surrounded by scandal and corruption allegations, who spent his presidential race unashamed of his blatant xenophobia, with weak excuses for sexual assault, who is still being backed by members of his party. In between the time I write this, post it, and you read it, there have probably been at least four more major scandals. But despite the obvious mess that is America’s democracy, President Trump still exists. And the next generation is watching it. Sure there are protests and marches and even wins for marginalized communities, but at the same time, there are an awful lot of people who still support and back the current government. What are they going to take away from this?

After all of this, is it any wonder we all have such serious trust issues about the world we live in? We can’t trust any public figure to be telling the truth. Most of the time they hardly even try to be subtle about it, and when they are, that’s when we’re even more suspicious. With this new Orwellian regime settling in, it’ll be a miracle if we’re ever anything but broken.

A generation of lost kids.

It’s not apathy. It’s disillusionment, overwhelmed by conflicting information and a lack of leaders to turn to.

Despite perhaps having lived hardships that we can’t relate to, our parents at least had a clearer idea of the future. The notion was that if you worked hard enough, did all of the right things with the right amount of effort, you’d make it. But that doesn’t count in debt or emotional stress or the time it takes to make it in such competitive fields where everyone’s parents think the same. And so you end up with a profession full of kids who were pushed there, who don’t care about saving the world so much as paying back what they owe and surviving, moving forwards. All parents seem to be pushing their kids harder in school and to college, because that’s the only way to make it in this world, because it’s not about what you’re passionate about or what you want to study, it’s about what, pragmatically, will make you successful. And they’re right. This economy leaves no space for love.

But we can’t even believe in the education system anymore. We don’t believe in authority when they say “trust us,” or the media, or the government. The propaganda is so clearly everywhere, in commercials and newsrooms and our textbooks, and it’s ridiculously see-through when you’ve been taught rhetorical analysis for years. When you’ve seen hypocrisy in historical context, and then see history repeating itself. When the lives on TV and the lives lived in reality don’t match, and don’t seem like they ever could. Then there’s this onslaught of information, and with the current political clime, everyone’s really aware of what’s happening- and what we never realized was happening behind closed doors.

Maybe this really does relate to only a small portion of the population. But with depression and mental instability on the rise, along with political instability and an increasing awareness in a globalized world, maybe there’s more to it all than anyone is willing to readily admit.

There’s such a large gap between the thinking processes of those a decade ahead and a decade behind. Take our entertainment right now as an example; it doesn’t show the future as a beautiful utopia of progress and science, it shows dystopian rulers and a broken world that can’t sustain humanity the way we know it. That’s the future we see.

But then a decade behind us, technology raced forwards just as we came out of childhood, and so the lifestyle we know and the one they know are radically different. But they don’t have it any easier. They’re not exposed to the same ideals we were, as children, but at the same time they never got the luxury of believing them to be a possibility in the first place. And now none of us get to indulge in the fantasy of finding your purpose and what you love doing, and make it from there. Now it’s about pragmatism. How do you succeed?

Having those ideals ripped away hurts, though, and it left scars. Having direction and purpose taken away hurts. No wonder we’re cynical and bitter. Now what are we working for? To be pawns, to be cogs in a system that doesn’t seem to care about us, if the current legislation in Congress is any indication? We see the successful and now we know we’ll be lucky to reach upper middle class, never the upper class. We’ll be lucky to settle.

Who are we, really, as a generation? Lost kids, where are we going?

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

On subtle sexism (and what could come from challenging it)

Again, my college has inspired me to write this piece, so I’m not sure it’s accurate everywhere. Nonetheless, if parts from this speak to you, do share- after all, the need for feminism is an international one.

Sexism manifests subtly but consistently in this college. Sometimes it’s not so subtle, of course – we’ve had teachers actually state that the boys should take more interest because they’ll be the ones making the money, whereas for girls it would more of an on-the-side type of earning– but either way, it is consistent.

Of all the teachers we’ve been exposed to in the last couple of years, only one out-and-out laughed at the arrangement of the classroom, with the boys and girls segregated carefully on separate sides of the room. The rest either quietly support this status quo, or rigidly enforce it. It isn’t all about seating- the differences are manifold, from interactions to hostel rules to teacher behaviors. For most of the facets of our college experience, there is a silent but clear line dividing the two sexes.

Perhaps derived from the lack of freedom before coming to college, there is an expectation on the girls to be more studious, to have the answers in class, to be well behaved and quiet. After all, for the last twelve years, these girls have lived under their parents’ supervision, rarely allowed the opportunities to go out and roam around that their male counterparts were.

Then on the other hand, boys are actually assumed to be the rowdy ones who shirk doing their work (with exceptions given for the ones established as nerds from the start), with most questions asked in class directed their way to keep them in line. Yet at the end everyone assumes it’ll be the boys who will cram better, who will get the higher scores.

And some of my classmates have asked me, well, why complain? As a girl, surely it makes class easier for you? It’s not like these difficult or suffocating expectations, or even entirely incorrect. But this whole thing isn’t about accuracy levels or difficulty in class. It’s about double standards. And those are harmful to both sexes, now as well as later in life. To be honest, despite the fact that this part of the system works for me, I probably push the status quo more than any guy does, since I don’t care about the social consequences, and I drag my friends along too. I know lots of guys who are way more studious than me, because I have a tendency to sleep all day after college. Because we’re not our stereotypes, we’re all individual people, and forgetting that in the classroom setting only enforces a divide that should never have been there to start with.

Outside of the classroom, there’s another kind of sexism too, one already present between students instead of imposed by the teachers. Boys don’t talk to the girls; they form tightly knit packs and even if one is friendly enough on their own, they’ll never properly acknowledge that friendship in front of the other guys. Going up to a boy when they’re with their friends is guaranteed to end in embarrassment for him, if he even talks to you.

Girls do the same thing too, or maybe they just respond to it. If you push that line, a lot of your fellow classmates won’t support it. They’ll pretend they don’t see what you’re doing, or cut you off entirely. The status quo wouldn’t exist if people didn’t want it there. Again, it goes outside of the classroom. The few times we’ve tried to arrange a mixed group party or outing, it’s completely fallen apart, because no one wants to interact with each other. Either the girls don’t want to come to something with a mixed group, or their parents wouldn’t allow them to.

And outside of parties, even casual outings are hard to accomplish, because most of the boys don’t want to be separated from their group to hang out with some of the girls, and the whole group of boys would never consent to going with those girls either.

There are no mixed groups of friends, and if any guy spends too much time with a group of girls in front of the others, the sneers and disparaging comments begin. The ostracization begins.

College, which should be a fertile ground for new thoughts, new ideas, new perspectives, instead serves the purpose of enforcing the separations that have been insinuated since birth – they are different, stay with your own caste, gender, social strata. Do not challenge the status quo.

What a modern generation.

It sounds innocent right now. Okay, so boys and girls don’t talk much too each other. They don’t sit next to each other. But then that leads to not understanding each other either, and one sex starts to believe that they’re better than the other because society at large has handed them more advantages. So with that gradient, is it really surprising that these distinctions lead to the discrimination and crimes and oppression perpetuated that a system designed to divide us? When you’re taught from birth that you are different, when your formative years are spent reinforcing the idea, when you can’t catch a platonic boy-girl friendship anywhere in the college without a multitude of rumors following (or jealousy, if one of them is committed), when exactly is this thinking supposed to change?

Well, it’s not, of course. You’re not meant to change your ideas. Change means you’re thinking about it, which means you’re analyzing the thoughts and beliefs you were supplied with throughout your life and supposed to follow without question (and if you’re thinking about this anyways, consider, how many of your beliefs are actually yours versus how many are thoughts you’ve been taught to think?) and  that would be dangerous. Imagine a generation of young adults who could think for themselves, who pushed past prejudices to work together and come up with new ideas, new solutions, and at the same time shield themselves from the corruption of the political parties whose very platform is setting one group of people against the other. Imagine what they could do.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

On the brilliance of our existence

After the realization that we don’t know the meaning of everything, I want to zoom back to the big picture for a moment, just to remember what’s worth living for, sometimes.

Humanity is amazing. We live on a rock hurtling through space, we are small specks in the universe, and we’re such children we've barely even existed on this planet yet. And yet, we've carved out this complex existence, all these rules and guidelines that seem logical enough to follow. But what is logic, exactly? We made it up. We made everything up. Every word you are using, every time you speak, is just a series of sounds that each culture unanimously decided would mean something, and on a different part of this planet a different combination of sounds is used to mean the same thing.

Do you know the difference between a wall and the air you breathe? The composition and the speed of the atoms. That's it. We see edges because it makes sense for our senses. Because it is useful for us to see the world that way. Not because it actually means anything, just because we can't quite comprehend the world otherwise.

The difference between the colors on your shirt? All because of absorption and reflection of light. Color is a concept we created too. And most likely, the color I believe to be green and the color you believe to be green aren't the same. There's no way to prove that, but there's no way to prove that it isn't either.

Reality isn’t even objective. We set up rules and guidelines and have followed them for so long they feel absolute. But anything that can happen could happen, with the right steps down the right paths. It’s all about the choices we make. Everyone sees it differently, and all of their absolutes are different from the next person’s, so doesn’t that make reality just a compilation of a multitude of realities? Which one is real, then? All of them or none of them?

Things only mean as much as we give them leave to. Which is both terrifying and beautiful- we are creating meaning out of nothingness.                                                                                                                                                             And with all of that, we choose the silliest things to care about.

We're so small in the big picture. Humans live in such deep denial and give purpose to such tiny things and it's amazing in its ridiculousness. The stars don't care about our heartbreak and our envy and our grudges and our anger. Bitterness and hate in the big picture have no use in the big picture, and yet we waste so much of our small existence on such things. On the immaterial instead of the genuine. Anger is a heavy burden and negativity chokes your soul, and for what? Why give them such importance?

The world we live in is an illusion, and the possibilities are enormous once you break out of it. We have this idea of success in our minds, and it’s easy to get so caught up in your head that you forget how small everything is. But what do we want to add value to in the face of that infinity? What do we decide means anything?

Because in the big picture of things, we're all such children, and we really don’t know what we're doing. Because how would we know what we should be doing? Why feel guilty for mistakes you made when you didn't know any fucking better? Learn fucking better. Try not to make the same mistake, gracefully accept the consequences, and move on. Not everyone will get it, but that doesn't mean you should limit yourself to their mindsets. Your strength is in your conviction, not in the accuracy of petty revenge.

I mean if that's really all you want from life, go for it. I'm not one to tell someone how they're supposed to think or behave, as long as no one gets hurt. In my opinion, your soul gets hurt like this, but that's up to your judgment.

The only thing that matters is the energy you're putting out. You can feel it, if you try. Some classrooms are toxic with their negativity. Some places of worship vibrate with the conviction and faith permeating the atmosphere from the devoted, and some coffee shops are alive with the bright thoughts that gather there. Thoughts can be positive or depressing or hopeful or sickening, depending on the person you let yourself be.

We are just a moment, infinity comprehending itself. Let’s live with that knowledge, break out of the illusion, and see what happens, shall we?

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

update: the college settled with the family at Rs 25000. For reference, my class was trying to figure out how to raise 1.5 lakh. I don’t know if it was a coincidence, but the next trip we had a different bus driver. 

unfortunately, a true story

Perhaps it’s not surprising. Perhaps I’m only surprised because I was brought up to have full faith in common decency. My parents and my community instilled in me the idea that if I needed help, I could depend on the people around to help me- especially authority figures.

Age has taught me that this is a privilege born of being raised in the suburbs and being white-passing. And coming to India has completely dispelled the idea that authorities and administration care about anything other than profiting from their job, especially if they can do the profiting without doing their job.

But I guess some part of me retained those childhood beliefs anyways. Which is why when we stood around the bus with eyes wide and hands covering our mouths in shock, I still wasn’t jaded enough to not be angry at the college.

I wanted authority figures to trust. We’re the only authority figures around who care. If you haven’t surmised from my previous articles and videos, my college inspires very little pride in its students, and for good reason.

As students in our third professional year, part of our curriculum for community medicine is to visit a nearby village to learn how to treat and guide a family over the course of a year. After about half an hour to check up on our assigned family, seventy five students got on the bus for the drive back to the college.

Today on our way back, I had my headphones on and was thus completely oblivious to the world. The first sign that something was wrong was a sudden jolt of the bus, as if it had suddenly gone over a speed bump. This was followed immediately by cries and screams from some of the girls.

I was later informed that at this point, we had only gone over the foot of the buffalo. It was when the driver reversed the bus that the poor animal became stuck halfway under the bus. The girls with a visual of the accident looked near to tears, yelling for the bus to please, please stop, help her!

It was probably the first time I fully agreed with any sort of hysterics from my classmates. I didn’t even have the strength of will to look out the window, to be honest. I wasn’t sure the animal was still alive, and I couldn’t imagine the blood if she wasn’t.

After a moment of shock, the first year postgraduate student in charge of the class got into motion. We were all directed to exit the bus, to at least be able to push it up enough that the animal could move out. Yet despite good intentions, all of the boys pushing the side of the bus yielded no results.

With the help of the villagers, some of the softer dirt was dug out from under the animal, and a combination of pulling at the buffalo and pushing the bus up finally got her free. It wasn’t enough, though- with a broken back and useless legs, the poor animal died within half an hour.

Such an animal is a significant part of a family’s income. With the difficulties being faced by villagers already, a loss like this can be debilitating. Those difficulties are an important topic on their own, one that I’ll elaborate on at another time, but it’s not really necessary to understand right now. Because it’s obvious that the compassionate, and to be honest, the most practical thing to do would be to pay the family for the loss and maybe even help them find a way to replace it.

Compassion is something I feel to be torn out of whatever dictionary our college administrators use.

See, we all knew right away that our college was not likely to pay. Huddled in groups, we tried calculating how much each student would need to donate for different amounts of hypothetical losses. We weren’t the only ones aware that the college was likely to slip its way out of responsibility. Some of the available leading voices in the village gathered to confront the driver and the poor postgraduate student stuck in this mess, arguing that they wouldn’t allow the bus to leave until compensation was given. The students from the school down the lane joined in, angry voices overlapping. We watched from a little ways away until ma’am directed us to go sit in the bus, the strain evident in her voice.

Most of us walked reluctantly towards the bus, though less than half actually sat down. We were frustrated and irritated, wondering where the college representatives of the village were, wondering what the college would do, and attempting to figure out whether they would let us leave in the first place.

They finally did, after another twenty minutes. I’m not sure what agreement they came to, but ma’am came onto the bus and took attendance as quickly as possible to get us out of there as soon as possible.

At the moment I’m writing this, it’s only been an hour since everything happened. I’m hoping the college will do the right thing, to save face if nothing else. But unfortunately I can’t be sure of that, and honestly none of us are holding our breath.

Within a few days we’ll know more about the outcome of this incident. But what happened was terrible. It was an accident, but that hardly matters for the family and the village. Compensation isn’t something that will be needed over time, but is rather an immediately pressing concern. And if the college doesn’t pay up, the family is going to pay for it.

But if the college doesn’t pay up, we the students and future doctors are not going to let the suffering go on without interference. We’re all prepared to donate whatever we can- even if it’s not directly our problem, I’d rather give up money that I know my parents will be able to easily recover than to make a family suffer over our mistake. Whatever donation can be made, please keep it in hand.

Because there’s honestly only so much we can handle our college getting away with, and this is the point where we get angry. If we have to supplement the finances, it’s not going to end there. Know that SGRD, a college run by a leading body of the Sikh faith, couldn’t find it in itself to help those in need, those who they had put into such a position in the first place. Know this, and refuse to let them get away without being held accountable.

It’ll be easy to be angry in the moment and then move on. But the family whose buffalo died can’t do that. The other people who fell victim to SGRD’s practices probably couldn’t either. We have the privilege to make it past whatever they throw at us with relatively minor discomfort. But we’re going to be doctors; we’re in the position to become leaders of the community. And this is where we start making the choices that make us worthy of our responsibility.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

Welcome to Punjab (while there’s still something to see)

Punjab doesn’t get the credit it deserves for its beauty; fashion, food, and spirituality all exist in unexpected harmony. See, this is a state that was once defined by such a vibrant culture. At the core, that culture is still there. And at its core, it's also dying.

The Sikh faith was born in Punjab, and over the years the Sikh culture pretty much came to define the state itself. It’s where the Sikh Raj was brought into existence, and held a prosperous reign for years until the British invasion. This is important for the reason that Sikhism holds a solid belief in the ideas that words are important, that sense should not be given up for tradition, and that the best way to spread a message or to convey thoughts is via poetry supported by music. Our very holy book is poetry written by well-known poets of the day, all from different castes and religions. 

But back in the end of the 1800s, when most students attended convent schools and knew more about Christianity than the Gurus, the community felt that the faith was dying out. There were too many sects, the children didn’t know their own culture, and when the youth stop understanding is when the elder generations comes to realize that there is about to be a debilitating identity crisis. The Khalsa values were fading out, and the era of the Sikhs seemed to be coming to an end.

But after all that Sikhs went through, they were hardly about to let such a thing happen peacefully. The response thus came in the form of the Singh Sabha movement, which was basically a more politically-minded Sikh Renaissance.  It was a physical and philosophical battle to bring back the true nature of the Gurus’ teachings.

With that determination, corruption was exposed and members of the movement went to cities and villages to preach of the inspiring heritage and the important ideals that had been diminishing in value. There was an outpouring of books, poetry, and magazines; centers of education were built and the right to control them was brought back to the religion. The SGPC was founded to govern and ensure that these victories remained. If you go to my college, you understand the irony in this, and can probably now understand exactly what we had and what we lost.

Because maybe that made up the 1900s, but it’s not really something that has made its way to the 21st century. If anything, we’ve reached another point of crisis. But this time it’s not just about the loss of the values that make up a religion, but rather the loss of the Punjab’s heritage and health as a whole.

Today, too, the majority population of Punjab is the Sikhs. But you can’t see a focus of those values, either secular or non-secular, in the citizens. There’s little to no deep, thoughtful writing or education centers which focus on the importance of what the Gurus believed- respect all as fellow humans, challenge tradition, believe service to be the highest purpose in life, and help those who need it. There’s barely any respectable art (in any form) to be found. Some of my classmates write and sing, and their works are beautiful. But it's done in secret, and while I completely respect their right to keep it personal, that leaves very little to create an impression. I want to know where that proud and dignified culture went.

This is the richest state in India, and it has the least influence on the country. It is drugged up, drunk, with villages dying both literally and figuratively. There is an epidemic of farmer suicide, and it is rife with drug addiction, illiteracy, and poverty.  This is India’s cancer capital, much of it due to lack of knowledge, pesticides leaving heavy metals in the water, and pollution in general. 

And no one is being informed of any of this.

Nothing exists in the "indie" genre in Punjab. There is nothing in the way of independent work. No independent music, movies, nothing. You know how in America so many kids have that dream of becoming a rock star, or they make bands in high school just because they can and they want to? Yeah, that’s not really a thing here.

I don't know, maybe I'm too much of an outsider to be commenting on lack of culture. But I know for sure that the medical parts are real. The epidemics linked to alcoholism and poor hygiene and drug abuse and lack of education are real. Pollution is killing and it's so easy to deal with but politics and corruption keeps anything from happening.

How do we make things happen? Everyone complains about it as an integral part of their teatime chats, but the conversation always ends before anyone reaches anything close to a solution.

And then there’s that part about culture, again. Where is it? Where are the words, the music, the moving movies and documentaries not produced by Bollywood in an attempt to reach a liberal audience that barely exists?

Honey Singh, Badshaah, Bohemia; Hard Kaur, the only female Punjabi rapper; these are what we dance to and who the culture worships. Maybe they have talent in some way I can't relate to, but the only thing they sing of is drinking and partying and hooking up. Maybe because that’s the only thing this generation wants to hear. (Side note- watch Udta Punjab if you want to see more on that scene; it’s one of my favorite movies to come out that's based on reality)

This is the part I’m a bit more reluctant to bring up, only because I know that the less aware will take full offense if they haven’t already. But the truth is that my classmates are more than half the problem. They’re highly educated, with significant connections, well off parents, and absolutely no interest in what they're doing or what they could be doing with their privilege. They all vote for AAP and then get bored five words into any conversation about reality.

Since you probably haven’t realized this yet, let me make it clear: YOU HAVE THE POWER TO MAKE CHANGE.

Americans are rising up because of neo-Nazis in the White House and a president who really shouldn't be there. But for these guys that's just business as usual. There were marches all over the world, from America to Africa to Europe, and even in other states in India; Punjabis didn't even know that it was Women's Day. There are strikes and protests happening right now from the ones who really can't afford the consequences of a strike failing to pull through, but just as same can't afford for things to continue as they are.

Historically, the ones who can actually start and maintain a revolution are the ones who have the means to call for change without worrying about issues like living hand to mouth, or losing their livelihood over such actions. That's us, by the way. In this day and age, our generation is the one with that power. We're the ones who should be rising up and calling for change.

But the only change being discussed is rising up for more parties, less rules, and more ways to go on adventures and get drunk without failing classes.

And I get it. I really, really do. I want to go on adventures and have fun and not have to worry about things like responsibility. But have you seen the streets and the people you pass? Have you seen how we have to cover our mouths when we go into the city and wash our hair when we come back? We can afford to have fun, but the rest of the state can't afford our apathy.

It’s just such blatant hypocrisy. Voting for the idea of change, but not consider doing anything personally. Attending colleges that people work so hard to reach, and then acting couldn’t-care-less when it comes to actually doing something with that knowledge and with that position.  

Why aren't you aware of your own power when they're terrified of it? I'm not telling you to stop drinking and partying. But put your glass down, we can get to the party when the work is done, yeah?

Because after all of this, I refuse to believe that this beautiful state is slowly killing itself. Just as the Singh Sabha movement came about because they refused to accept that as inevitable, so am I waiting for our movement to come forth, because this death is not inevitable.

Personally, you can expect to see me on my blogs, on my twitter, and on my YouTube channel doing my best with my works, forcing these issues and ideas into the forefront until they can't be ignored.

And if you have opinions on that, commentary, or even disagreements, please email me, comment below, or send a message on my blog. I want to start a discussion, even if it's because you hate every word I said, as long as you can counter it logically.

It may be easy to avoid these ideas, but there's only so long you can pull the wool over your eyes, before it slips down over your mouth and chokes you.

Okay. Maybe that was too extended a metaphor. But you get the point- this exists, we will only be able to make any change once we finally fully acknowledge it.  

It’s far past time to rise up. We outnumber the opponents of change. If we sustain energy we can do so, so much, it’s actually incredible. We could quite actually change the world.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

unfortunately, a true story

Perhaps it’s not surprising. Perhaps I’m only surprised because I was brought up to have full faith in common decency. My parents and my community instilled in me the idea that if I needed help, I could depend on the people around to help me- especially authority figures.

Age has taught me that this is a privilege born of being raised in the suburbs and being white-passing. And coming to India has completely dispelled the idea that authorities and administration care about anything other than profiting from their job, especially if they can do the profiting without doing their job.

But I guess some part of me retained those childhood beliefs anyways. Which is why when we stood around the bus with eyes wide and hands covering our mouths in shock, I still wasn’t jaded enough to not be angry at the college.

I wanted authority figures to trust. We’re the only authority figures around who care. If you haven’t surmised from my previous articles and videos, my college inspires very little pride in its students, and for good reason.

As students in our third professional year, part of our curriculum for community medicine is to visit a nearby village to learn how to treat and guide a family over the course of a year. After about half an hour to check up on our assigned family, seventy five students got on the bus for the drive back to the college.

Today on our way back, I had my headphones on and was thus completely oblivious to the world. The first sign that something was wrong was a sudden jolt of the bus, as if it had suddenly gone over a speed bump. This was followed immediately by cries and screams from some of the girls.

I was later informed that at this point, we had only gone over the foot of the buffalo. It was when the driver reversed the bus that the poor animal became stuck halfway under the bus. The girls with a visual of the accident looked near to tears, yelling for the bus to please, please stop, help her!

It was probably the first time I fully agreed with any sort of hysterics from my classmates. I didn’t even have the strength of will to look out the window, to be honest. I wasn’t sure the animal was still alive, and I couldn’t imagine the blood if she wasn’t.

After a moment of shock, the first year postgraduate student in charge of the class got into motion. We were all directed to exit the bus, to at least be able to push it up enough that the animal could move out. Yet despite good intentions, all of the boys pushing the side of the bus yielded no results.

With the help of the villagers, some of the softer dirt was dug out from under the animal, and a combination of pulling at the buffalo and pushing the bus up finally got her free. It wasn’t enough, though- with a broken back and useless legs, the poor animal died within half an hour.

Such an animal is a significant part of a family’s income. With the difficulties being faced by villagers already, a loss like this can be debilitating. Those difficulties are an important topic on their own, one that I’ll elaborate on at another time, but it’s not really necessary to understand right now. Because it’s obvious that the compassionate, and to be honest, the most practical thing to do would be to pay the family for the loss and maybe even help them find a way to replace it.

Compassion is something I feel to be torn out of whatever dictionary our college administrators use.

See, we all knew right away that our college was not likely to pay. Huddled in groups, we tried calculating how much each student would need to donate for different amounts of hypothetical losses. We weren’t the only ones aware that the college was likely to slip its way out of responsibility. Some of the available leading voices in the village gathered to confront the driver and the poor postgraduate student stuck in this mess, arguing that they wouldn’t allow the bus to leave until compensation was given. The students from the school down the lane joined in, angry voices overlapping. We watched from a little ways away until ma’am directed us to go sit in the bus, the strain evident in her voice.

Most of us walked reluctantly towards the bus, though less than half actually sat down. We were frustrated and irritated, wondering where the college representatives of the village were, wondering what the college would do, and attempting to figure out whether they would let us leave in the first place.

They finally did, after another twenty minutes. I’m not sure what agreement they came to, but ma’am came onto the bus and took attendance as quickly as possible to get us out of there as soon as possible.

At the moment I’m writing this, it’s only been an hour since everything happened. I’m hoping the college will do the right thing, to save face if nothing else. But unfortunately I can’t be sure of that, and honestly none of us are holding our breath.

Within a few days we’ll know more about the outcome of this incident. But what happened was terrible. It was an accident, but that hardly matters for the family and the village. Compensation isn’t something that will be needed over time, but is rather an immediately pressing concern. And if the college doesn’t pay up, the family is going to pay for it.

But if the college doesn’t pay up, we the students and future doctors are not going to let the suffering go on without interference. We’re all prepared to donate whatever we can- even if it’s not directly our problem, I’d rather give up money that I know my parents will be able to easily recover than to make a family suffer over our mistake. Whatever donation can be made, please keep it in hand.

Because there’s honestly only so much we can handle our college getting away with, and this is the point where we get angry. If we have to supplement the finances, it’s not going to end there. Know that SGRD, a college run by a leading body of the Sikh faith, couldn’t find it in itself to help those in need, those who they had put into such a position in the first place. Know this, and refuse to let them get away without being held accountable.

It’ll be easy to be angry in the moment and then move on. But the family whose buffalo died can’t do that. The other people who fell victim to SGRD’s practices probably couldn’t either. We have the privilege to make it past whatever they throw at us with relatively minor discomfort. But we’re going to be doctors; we’re in the position to become leaders of the community. And this is where we start making the choices that make us worthy of our responsibility.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

On the concept of community

Over the past few years, one of the things I have come to appreciate the most about traditional Indian society is the overarching sense of community. Unlike in America, where everyone is content to live their own lives (which isn't necessarily a bad thing until it reaches the point where you don't know your own neighbors), Indians live lives tightly integrated with their neighbor and friends and old-school-friends-they-run-into and family and distantly-family-barely-related-I-think-I-saw-at-a-wedding-five-years-ago etc. Sometimes it feels like the aunties know every piece of gossip in their corner of the city, and that they can pull out a connection from almost anyone they meet, however tangential. You'll be sitting at home, casually going about your day, when someone will drop by randomly because they were just in the neighborhood, or sometimes just because they felt like it. Suddenly the aunties are in the kitchen making tea, pushing you to take out plates and lay out snacks and pull together a fully set table. Americans can't quite appreciate what it means to 'have tea.' The aunties are walking back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, waving off protests to come sit. This leaves you to continue the formalities, serving food to everyone's plates, pushing if they say no, occasionally being called back to the kitchen to bring out something else to eat or drink. It's a full production- Indian kids learn young how to play host. Sometimes the topic of conversation will be the weather, or politics, or how the kids are doing and how school is going. Sometimes it'll be about the marriage of the son of a shop owner a couple streets down, and how the girl is highly educated and that the elder son went abroad but this one would be staying to run the shop. It's not malicious at all, just another conversation. The closeness manifests in other ways, like recognizing the guy who runs the clothing shop, so he pulls out the nicest product and gives you a discount because he knows your mom. Or it's sitting outside when the weather is nice, all the aunties on the street with their plastic chairs, gathered in a corner and swapping east conversation, gossip, tips on sales, what they saw on the news last night, or pointing out something in the paper. Because yes, print newspapers are still very much in fashion here. I've seen the best example of the benefit of this kind of thing in the village, where the surroundings are green green fields, people are mostly self-sufficient, and life is nice and slow. (It's not ideal- lots of problems plague these places, don't misunderstand). A lady's husband had died, leaving her with no source of income. She had multiple malignancies in her body, along with an untreated case of tuberculosis for four years. Unable to even take care of herself, a neighbor had been making her meals and checking up on the lady multiple times a day for the last few years. I make it sound as if this is solely the purview of the elder generation, but it's not really. Living in hostel, you get accustomed to friends randomly dropping by because they were heading over to someone else room, usually with a poor excuse to cover the fact that they were hoping to get some chocolate. Or my neighbor coming over a couple times a day with some task, and ending up caught in a half hour conversation. We sit in the hospital waiting for teachers, sharing whatever news we've heard about our classmates. Whatever problems I have with the atmosphere of college, I know that I would trust someone from my college over a stranger when in need of help, whether I knew them or not. There's something about being from the same place that says 'one of us' even if there's no real unity on a daily basis. I don't know how common it is in other countries, or if maybe it's a developing versus developed world thing. I just know I didn't come to understand or appreciate the concept of community until I came to India. It's true that there's a lot of ways India can benefit from the direction of modernization it's moving towards, but I hope this one won't be left behind- it's definitely one of the reasons Indian culture is so rich and beautiful.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

WHY THOSE OF THE SIKH FAITH SHOULD COMMIT TO THE RESISTANCE AGAINST DONALD TRUMP

Less than a week ago, Donald Trump was sworn in as the 45th president of the United States of America, the highest and most powerful office in the nation. Not only did he become president of the American people, he also assumed the position of leader of the free world- in an increasingly global society, it is a position heavily laden with responsibility. The effects of his words and his actions will ripple through every nation. On January 21st, the world was watching. The very next day, a march of resistance and celebration of women's rights was seen all over the globe, with a strength that easily overpowered that of the inauguration. It was a warning that the rights of the people would not be taken away easily, and a reminder that the president answers to the people and not the other way around. Though Donald Trump swore to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution, his actions betray his lack of genuine interest in doing so. And for everyone who still hoped he might appreciate the honor of his position, his divisive speech speaking of a chaotic America in need of saving quickly dashed any such idea. The actions of his administration mere hours after the ceremony made it abundantly clear that rhetoric of Trump the candidate would not be going anywhere despite the title change. Let's be honest; the man ran on a platform of xenophobia, racism, misogyny, and blatant lies (sorry, "alternative facts," as his people now call it.) The entire election campaign was unabashedly smeared with scandal to an overwhelming degree, every revelation worst than the last. The man isn't going to change in the next few days, and he's now been charged with representing America. Any Sikh well versed in their history is not unfamiliar with the concept of a power-hungry leader who was more invested in self aggrandizement than the well being of their people. Though at its core a peaceful religion, the history of Sikhism is painted with blood. Guru Nanak Dev ji preached to us the virtue of tolerance, and Guru Gobind Singh ji taught us to defend it. We were taught to use our pen to protect, and that if that fails, to pick up the sword- that it is our duty to do so. Sikhs aren't directly under attack, except by the virtue of being largely immigrants and a minority population. Muslims are being targeted, blacks are, hispanics are. So why joint a fight when staying out of it would be so much less of a headache? Because you know that the gurus would have joined the cause. There may not be a call for swords, but there is the need to stand up against a poisonous narrative that tramples the ones who have struggled the most in favor of the comfort of those already is a position of privilege. Our brothers and sisters and non binary friends are in danger, both physically and legally. If our history is a bloody one- because we have defied those who tried to deny us our right to be free, a battle still being fought in a different century across different nations but for the same principles- it is also a history full of martyrs. The gurus taught us of the value of the sword and the pen, and also the duty to defend and protect those in need of our help. Guru Tegh Bahadhur Ji sacrificed his life without hesitation for people of a different religion because they came to him for help. Guru Harkrishan Ji sacrificed himself to heal the sick, and Guru Arjun Dev Ji and the chotte Sahibzade gave their life for the right to be. With these kinds of leaders, who are we to forsake their legacy, the very essence of what this religion prides itself on? Why would we abandon our fellow citizens when their rights and lives stand in jeopardy? Who are we not to march, to serve, to protest, and to fight back? Really, we should be standing on the front lines, or we put all the sacrifices before us to shame. I know some Sikhs believe in what Donald Trump promises. Some agree with his stance against Muslims, which is wrong for reasons which are hopefully obvious, but others because they agree with his policies. I understand that- I agree with some of them too. But that's not enough. This man is a hypocrite who has lied and deceived and scammed the American people to reach this point. He has wavered on issues multiple times, and made promises he clearly does not intend to keep. The first few days have illustrated already how much more interested he is in his image and in increasing his wealth than the well being of anyone who has pinned their hopes on him. Shame and honor do not exist in his world, and neither does truth. He is not anti-establishment; he and the cabinet he has assembled are the establishment. Trump is a 'billionaire' (though he suspiciously won't release his tax returns) who has profited off of tax breaks and loopholes and a struggling working class. It's not even that he wants to prolong that suffering- it just seems clear that Trump doesn't care what happens so long as it benefits his business interests. He is not the salvation - he is the downfall. Let me make this as clear as possible- this man is a fraud, the antithesis of almost every word in the Guru Granth Sahib Ji. The Guru Granth Sahib is full of poets expressing the idea over and over that everyone is created equal, that women should be treated with respect, that religions should not be pitted against one another, because it is the commitment to faith which makes a person a good person. If we truly believe that everyone deserves the right to be themselves without fear of persecution, then we should stand together, shoulder to shoulder with them, and defend that right. Sikhs have fought endlessly to earn us the right to the lives we now lead. This civil rights movement of our generation is our turn to live up to that legacy. And I know we can.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

On our current cultural phenomenons

Take a moment to contemplate the fact that at this point in time, both Hamilton: An American Musical and President-Elect Donald Trump co-exist. Both will most definitely stand as defining moments for their own reasons, and yet, I feel as though down the line it’ll be hard to imagine a society that lived with these contradictory manifestations of American culture at the same time. Actually, even as a spectator in this time period, with history being made for both the right and wrong reasons, it’s a hard enough concept to wrap your head around.

Consider it thoroughly; one is a proof of progress, a celebration of what makes our nation unique and deserving of its reputation, bar the international disasters we entrench ourselves in. It is about a collection of vibrant cultures, melded together to create something beautiful- the musical and its resultant phenomenon stand as a microcosm for America as a whole. These are the ambassadors of the ghost writers of this country, telling the story of its founders but also representing the unnamed and uncredited revolutionaries who fought alongside them, the ones who didn’t win their freedom until much later. One could argue that the fight to tell their full story is still continuing, as the Hamiltons’ had for so long.

And the other? One could argue that his candidacy, his election, all of it is the embodiment of the reason that fight continues. Trump is the face of everything that roadblocks progress, a premonition of something ugly rearing its head due to the destabilization of a foundation that has long been cracked and painted over instead of cemented

We hold parades of pride, march for hard won landmark victories like the Supreme Court legalization of gay marriage, and get to see an increasing acceptance of minorities in creations meant for public consumption.

And yet at the same time, the indigenous people who were fucked over to settle the roots of an experiment that would prove to create something with the possibility for greatness continue to take the brunt of the worst of what our nation refuses to acknowledge- the greed for power, for easy solutions, for driving profit forwards and callously disregarding anyone who gets trapped under its wheels.

At the same time, black youth and their families live with the knowledge that they could be shot by an officer of the law and fight years for justice that is not guaranteed to ever come. Transgender youth are targeted and driven to suicide, Muslims and Hispanics face serious discrimination, and women still struggle to stand on equal ground with their male counterparts.

For every success, there is a flip side that draws us away from full patriotism; for every beautiful story captured in the government-sanctified history books, there is a darker one written in between its lines. But somehow, even with full knowledge of those failings, America continues to write between the lines (Well, that may no longer be strictly true- under a Trump presidency, those shadow words may well become bold print. And isn’t that a depressing thought? More than that, actually- for some, it’s downright terrifying.)

How have centuries passed? One generation after another of those very ghost writers integral to progress has been crushed to build the platforms used to elevate politicians and opportunity-seeking orators who preach either hypocrisy or utter bigotry or both at once.

We live a juxtaposition.

We have fads of clean energy, fads of healthy eating, fads of countering climate change, fading passing fashions of everything that should be top priority if all our priorities weren’t horribly skewed: Military over education. Tax breaks for the rich over universal healthcare. Reality television over anything of substance. Oppression written into the system instead of facing up to wrong decisions. Again and again, choosing to be asleep instead of awake.

People are dying in the streets and the privileged sit in front of their television screens and berate the angry for being too angry, the oppressed for having too much to say, the victims for ‘oppressing’ the victors. They laud false leaders who promise a return to ‘better times’ as if such a thing existed, as if half the nation wasn’t haunted by discrimination, as if the majority designated minorities didn’t live under the shadow of impending disaster

This is not what had been planned.

And wouldn’t it be easy to blame the government for all of this? That they had been derelict in their duties to their constituencies, that they had done this to us? Wouldn’t it be easy to blame the media, to blame social media, to argue that our leaders have led us astray and brainwashed us to follow along passively?

It would be so easy. And it would accomplish absolutely nothing. No, to fix mistakes ingrained in the very structure of our culture and society, we must acknowledge ourselves as complicit. No one is innocent, hands painted red for every news story relegated to white noise in the background of a conversation, for every purchase that contributes to nothing but the lining in the pockets of the rich, sucked out of the hands of the underpaid and hardworking, for every choice to make the easy decision despite its far-reaching consequences, for hands firmly over our eyes and ears and mouth so we won’t have to commit to a position. If you stand for nothing you will fall for nothing too.

Our silence is in and of itself its own act of oppression- and I’m talking directly to the minorities here, not just the privileged. You can’t stand aside and still flaunt the right to complain about your rights being unjustly denied, when you just refused to stand with your people in solidarity to force the solidification of a dream into something more concrete.

America is an experiment with the potential for greatness but it is not yet great. We keep making the same mistakes that stop us from reaching that place. It is a symphony with discordant harmonies and I’m not sure if we’re stuck in the middle of a crescendo going nowhere, if we’ve not yet reached it, or if the high point is over and this is leading into a pianissimo before a last pizzicato. Whimper, not a bang. It’ll go down with our handed over liberties, with our implicit willing permission, not in flames. Maybe the experiment is coming to an end without ever having proved true the hypothesis.

…but does it have to? We are the musicians, the writers, the orators, even if our voices are being drowned out right now. We are the young impassioned and hungry and the story doesn’t have to end if we refuse to let it; not if we choose awake instead of comfortably asleep Trump and his rhetoric may stand for everything ugly left festering in the country- even if there is a rationale buried deep beneath the layers of fear-mongering- but now we have a final boss to defeat. Now we have to acknowledge everything that we purposefully blinded and deafened ourselves to, because the proof had never been so blatantly displayed before us. Now no one can hide from it without having to declare- directly or indirectly- which side of progress they stand on.

And if Hamilton has proven anything it’s that this story is an ongoing one, so long as you are actively engaged in it. It is a story that shows that despite mistakes the greats were once nothing but young people with a belief- and look at what they achieved.

So what can we achieve? When this era is written down, what kind of legacy are we going to leave? Because honestly, it may be nothing but a foolishly hopeful belief, but I don’t think this is a story even closed to completion, and I think there are many who would agree with me on the matter. I think there are many taking to the streets to protest, because whatever mistakes our forefathers have made, we are not beholden to that heritage. I think we have a chance at reaching greatness.

And I don’t think we should stop until we turn this world upside down

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

The Necessity of Change (Rise Up)

I suppose saying that the majority doesn’t care is a bit unfair.

It’s more like very few are making the conscious decision to go out of their way and care. Other than the ones who have chosen to devote their time and efforts to charities, not many out of the general population go out of their way to do, or god forbid, even think anything about the issues plaguing humanity.

Which makes sense, really. It’s just so much easier not to care. It’s easier to imagine that things are just the way that they are, and nothing could change that. When your only concern is your own success and rise in society, and passing the fruits of that labour on to your children, your goal is much simpler to accomplish. There’s different problems with that mindset, but that’s not the point here. The point is that even though it’s an easy path for the individual, that narrow-mindedness is detrimental to society at large.

Oh, society will never admit it. Society will pretend that everything is good and fine and moving along exactly as meant to because anything else means that change is necessary, and change is what society vehemently does not want. Not unless it happens slowly enough that everyone can turn their heads and just pretend it’s not happening.

But such change does not happen on its own, and as the population grows – 9.1 billion projected by 2050 – life expectancy of the average human increases and the demand for resources increase, it’s imperative that we start paying attention to more than just our own successes, because soon we will have no choice but to. Maybe we’ll get away with it. But we’ll be leaving behind all those problems for the next generation to solve, and after all that work in passing on individual success to your children, it’s rather contradictory to leave the world at large a worse place for them. When our generation has inherited our own share of problems from a generation that didn’t care about consequences, why would we voluntarily choose to make things worse and pass that on?

I mean sure, an argument could be made that progress happens naturally, and that things will change for the better on their own. But that takes generations, which is time we just don’t have. And even then, it’s not an entirely natural process. There are people changing their small corners, and those small corners pass down morals to another generation of slightly larger corners, which all end up coalescing into a nation with a new mindset.

Ideally, that is.

But not entirely.

The ones in power, they pass their ideals to their children too. And due to their position and inheritance, those children are more likely to follow in their parents’ footsteps as leaders, with very little inclination to change the way that things are run. Maybe some of them will, when they realize what’s being sacrificed. But will that really be enough?

History is littered with examples of citizens getting fed up with the way things are run and deciding no, we’re not waiting any longer. We’re not letting someone else make decisions for us, we’re not sacrificing our freedom for ‘safety.��� That’s how America was born. That’s the Enlightenment, the Renaissances, the revolutions. That’s how dictatorships fell and democracies rose.

Sure, we have a ‘democracy’ right now, so to speak. But a democracy is meant to work in a way that leaves leaders answerable to their people. A system of checks and balances, where the ultimate power rests with the will of the people. That power isn’t meant to be reserved for those with something of use to the government, or those who can buy the attention they need.

So where are the disgruntled citizens, tired of oppression? Why are they not paying attention to the wrongdoings in the country, why are they not enraged, why are they satisfied with not demanding more? Why are they resigned to the way things work, as if society was a fixed thing instead of a reflection?

Society is not a rigid system that we are meant to bow down to. It is what we are.

Of course, if we want things to change, we have to change the way are – we have to be better people, more driven, more responsible, and most of all, we have to care about those outside of our own close circle. These changes will be reflected in the values of the culture, and those values will bounce back and force us to maintain them. It’s not going to be easy; of course it’s not. Destruction is always easier. Who enjoys being held responsible for their actions?

But honestly? There is no way that things can last going the way that they are. It’s not sustainable, and either we intervene now or we’re going to have to learn it the hard way later. We’re steps away from irreversible damage, from global warming to extinct species and destroyed ecosystems to nations ruined by poverty and war.

You’re living on your knees, pretending you meant to be there all along, but time’s up. Time to rise up.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

A Message to My Fellow Doctors-to-be

Throughout history, arts and sciences have been intrinsically linked. Yet in the modern era, it seems they have become divided by an impassable chasm.

The most notable scientists in our history books were also the leading philosophers of the day. The exploration of the human condition and the actual physiology and treatment of the pathology of human conditions were not so different. And yet, it seems like in this modernized world, which places profit and efficiency above culture and thoroughness, you have to choose which tp pursue, and your future standing in society depends on your choice.

Why have humanities become so lost in medicine? These days it seems that doctors isolate the disease, call up their theoretical knowledge and past experiences, and send along their patient with the latest medicines. There’s nothing wrong with that, per se, but when it’s done so objectively, it leaves doctors treating diseases, not patients.

Current research shows that there is a psychic component to nearly every somatic disease. While the medicines will take care of the body, they do nothing to treat the mind. This is why, overseas, patients are turning more and more to alternative medications and treatments. The common complaint is that allopathic doctors don’t make them feel like they’re being treated as a whole person, but instead as a collection of symptoms. There is no connection between them and their doctor, which can prove risky when it comes to eliciting crucial information that the patient may not feel comfortable sharing.

Understanding the human condition is essential to understanding human conditions. Why people behave and believe the things they do – this will color how they should be treated. Besides the philosophical importance, there is a more practical and economical side to the argument. If every aspect of the patient’s mindset is taken into account, if doctors remember that they are speaking with fellow humans, they can push for more prophylactic actions that will not only increase the wellbeing of the patient overall and positively impact the doctor’s reputation, it can also reduce the number of future cases and repeat complaints of the same or similar problems.

Doctors and hospitals in India are currently swamped with patients. Cutting down on the number would allow for more effective focus on each individual patient. And if the loss of profit is an issue (though if it is, you really should consider what being a doctor means to you), consider the loss of revenue from patients who decide to seek out another doctor, unsatisfied by their current treatment.

Many of us have a long road ahead of us before we reach the point where we can call ourselves an experienced doctor. But how we proceed, how we think of the connection between humanities and humanity, between medicine and the human condition, will make a huge difference in the years to come.

What kind of doctors do we hope to be?

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

in the end, it takes very little to change the world 1. have an idea (of what is wrong and how it can be right) 2. have a voice (and a method to share it, whether online, in your community, through art or words) 3. adjust with the flow. but don't let ANYONE stop you

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

A Review of the Indian System

The nature of students here is paradoxical. It takes very little observation for it to become clear—this is a nation of followers.

That’s not meant as an insult or as a condemnation of character. It’s an impartial observation. Followers are all they were raised to be, the only mindset they are allowed to possess. There are exceptions to the rule, of course, but they aren’t much better. We’ll get to that later.

The first important thing to remember is that creative, free thinking, intelligent leaders are not desired by society. This makes sense. They’re good for progress, but not so good for the ones in charge, the ones satisfied with their positions and against the very idea of progress.  A youth raised to believe that it can cause change and achieve whatever it believes in will never be content with the status quo, especially not the horrendously imbalanced one which has taken root in this country. A youth that desires equal opportunities, that believes itself worthy of such things, is a danger to the delicate balance of power.

So they are never allowed to think that way. Instead, they get a media that sends them chasing for their other half, advertising that sends them on a never ending quest to be ‘good enough,’ which they are assured they are not yet, not yet, not, yet. A school system which gives the questions and answers and directs them to memorize so that they can regurgitate the same questions and answers on a test over and over again. Tells them to keep their heads in their books and work harder, harder, if they ever want to make anything of themselves; and by ‘make’ they mean molten which can be shaped in a readymade mold into the perfect copy.

They are taught not to draw attention. Not to ask for attention. Don’t let the teachers notice you, don’t let anyone else notice you because then you become a target. Keep your head down, find the shortest path from A to Z, and pass along.

This leads to a very peculiar type of competitiveness. It’s not spoken, but it’s clearly seen in the way they pretend they haven’t studied, as if they haven’t stayed up all hours pushing the limits of their memory. The way they discourage others from studying, quietly putting each other down, because another’s success is your failure.

Be better, but don’t be too good.

And that’s it. That’s their goal. That’s all they care about. They don’t know anything about the world outside their books, they don’t know what it means to challenge yourself, to embrace the thrill of an adrenaline rush, to do something that has no obvious personal benefit except that it’s different and opens your mind and your eyes and teaches you something. They don’t believe there could be anything more important, any way time could be better put to use than cramming the necessary facts, basics and applications be damned. If it’s not a test question, it’s not worth learning.

And they are proud of it. Proud of their own limitations, that they think the same as their parents and their parents’ parents, bias and judgment and narrow minded focus passed down as precious family heirlooms.

When no one wants to learn the world, when no one dares learn the depths of their own souls, how do you teach them? In a nation of followers, how can you get them to do anything but play follow the most convincing leader?

Of course, there are exceptions. Some have worked out that they are products of a system, and that their self-awareness makes them unfit and undesirable. They are almost admirable. Almost.

Because they see things differently, and what they see makes them angry. Yet instead of trying to reform a broken system, they shun it entirely and think of nothing but the next adrenaline rush, the next time they can flip off the system and the world, and they think of this as ‘rebellion.’

What they miss is that it isn’t. It doesn’t break down the status quo, it upholds it. It allows those who set up the system to say “see? See that reckless impertinence, see that callousness, see how they will never amount to anything useful? This is why it is important to follow. This is why you should never step outside of the lines.”

In the end, they are just followers of a different dogma, falling prey to the same traps. The allure of power, the easiness of corruption. They just become a bigger part of the very machine they profess to hating.

So what is the solution?

The solution isn’t to condemn the world, or give up on humanity, no matter how much you want to. It’s to keep learning, keep loving, keep being invested in the world.

The answer is to not be a passive observer, because to refuse to take action is to take the side of the oppressor, or in this case, the inbuilt system which sucks the passion and originality right out of you. Being everything they don’t want you to be makes you dangerous. It makes you capable of impact, of change. It’s difficult, and they will try to distract you and destroy you and bring you down, but it is so so important and it will be worth it.

And if you can read this and dismiss it out of hand, you’re too far gone. They’ve got you, mind and missing soul. But if there is some small doubt in your mind, that maybe, maybe, you could do something, that maybe you would like to be a part of something, to break out and see a world that has previously been too far out of grasp, then don’t give up. You’re close, and you’ll make it. We’ll be waiting for you when you do.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

A Diagnosis and a Cure

The atmosphere is toxic.

There’s a thin veneer of diplomacy over it all, small talk and fake laughter and in-the-moment lamentations at the fragility of “class unity.” On closer inspection even that is patchy- the moments of camaraderie followed by insidious gossip, double edged conversations, and the pervasive contemptuous dismissal of everyone not deemed ‘one of us.’

It’s toxic, stifling, and enough to choke on. Enough to wish you could.

See, it’s not just that people don’t like each other. Open anger is purifying in its own way. Open things breathe. But when you hide all that truth and emotion below layers of pretend, it starts to fester. Some of it is so far gone it has possibly lost its ability to function ever again. On one level, it’s pity-inducing.

To be honest, there’s not much point in victim-blaming. There rarely is. It’s a disease, after all- a treatable one, but when you refuse to admit you’re sick because you had no such idea such a thing was a disease in the first place, it’s hard to get any better. It infects in childhood, from observing trusted adults doing the exact same thing- smiling and serving the guests, bitching to no end once they’re gone; from being told never to wear your heart on your sleeve, because it could fall off and be used against you; from that desperate wholly human need to fit in, even if that means dismissing everyone else, even if it means your voice will forever be tinged with that arrogant contempt and you’ll never know the feeling of pure emotion.

That’s how it starts. This is how it presents. A sneer overtaking the face when speaking to anyone ‘not on your level;’ constantly manipulating people and information to keep yourself in power and others below you; always on the lookout for anything to bring down other people and keeping yourself as tightly shielded as possibly to keep it from happening to you.

Nothing to draw undue attention to oneself, but instead blending comfortably into the group. Never showing sincere interest or anything which could be construed as a weakness. Never anything real.

Fracturing a class into small groups of people who can’t stand each other. Refusal to talk to or be in the same place as other groups. The constant search for interesting things to do to assert dominance over others, playing it up so that everyone can see how much fun you’re having, how much cooler you are, but not so interesting that it goes beyond your comfort zone and upsets that delicate balance of power.

It’s highly infectious, a communicable disease. The presentation is rarely consciously noticed, after all. And when surrounded by so many diseased, it’s hard not to be infected yourself. And often enough, you’ll not notice or care enough until you’re too far gone and in too deep.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that there’s no hope. The disease is entirely treatable, the symptoms curable, with little risk of reoccurrence following a complete recovery. But the treatment is not easy.

It requires unwrapping the years of layers, and exposing the long hidden parts of you to the open. Letting it breathe. Teaching yourself to ignore the toxicity and open yourself and breathe, deep powerful breaths. It’ll hurt at first, it’ll probably burn. There will be many moments where you feel like giving it up because what’s the point? No one else is doing it and your ‘friends’ will pull at the torn edges, pour salt in the wounds, make you want to cover it all up again.

This is the hard part- the part where you decide to keep going.

Then it’ll become easier. Drink a daily tonic of two parts hope, one part sincerity, and close your eyes to feel it filling you up. Marvel at the taste of chocolate, coffee, food, and stories shared with others. Be unabashed. Exchange smiles and compliments and random acts of kindness with strangers, diseased or not alike. The infection can be spread but so can the relief.

Once you’ve learnt how to feel purity, how to shed slimy duplicity, you’ve developed immunity and gained so much more.

Congratulations.

Go spread the cure.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

A Review of Udta Punjab

(warning- spoilers ahead)

Udta Punjab was a beautifully done movie. I’m not talking about the acting or dialogue or filming, which I am honestly grossly under qualified to critique. What I truly appreciated as a spectator of this film was the strikingly important characterization and storylines. No one was mindlessly evil; everyone had their reasons and their convictions for their actions. And yet at the same time, those reasons and convictions didn’t excuse them or redeem them.  

Tommy Singh, one of the main characters of the film, deserves no sympathy for what he got himself into. He started drugs in high school, it was all he knew, and it pushed him to stardom and fame. Who would turn that down? And yet it’s not like he stumbled upon the drugs by accident. With the right (or wrong, in this case) type of company and guardians, there’s not much of a moral conflict between the easy ecstasy of drugs and the wearisome reality it offers a relief from. And yet, when he saw a girl working so hard to survive the shitshow that her life had become, all because she wanted an escape from the poverty that held her back her whole life, his perspective entirely changed. Suddenly he had a purpose beyond drugs, and that saved him.

Balli, the younger brother of one of the other main character, shows an entirely different perspective. As far as the film showed, he idolized the drug-addicted Tommy Singh and everything his life represented. He wanted to be ‘cool,’ and he most likely followed his classmates down the path that led to an overdose and a hospital stay. He had no reason, no tragedy, nothing to defend him. And then when Balli was offered a chance to save himself, to redeem himself, he chose not to. He ran, killed, and got a lot of other people killed too.

These were just two of the character plotlines, but they clearly convey the struggle gripping this country. The girl we see fighting her way first out of poverty, then back to self-dignity, represents the innocent casualties of the political war. Because that’s what it is. Like the female lead Preet Sahni said, there are two wars being fought. One against the corrupt politicians who use the drugs to bend a population to their whims, against the system that allows cops to make money damning the innocent to a life chasing the next high, whatever the cost; the other one in the choice those people make to fall down that road, to not fight the addiction and to not try and be something beyond that easy relief.

And that’s how the movie ends. The fight for what’s right despite the personal cost, facing down against the people who don’t want to be saved, who would gladly drag the world down with them for just another high.

It’s a very real war being fought, and while it’s amazing that a film with such a strong message premiered in Punjab, the sad truth is that it’s not exposing much that people didn’t already know. The ones who didn’t know aren’t likely to try and do anything with this new knowledge; the affluent who could afford the seat in the theaters aren’t likely to stop their recreational use, because they don’t see themselves on that screen. They don’t understand that at any point, that could be them. One slip up and they could become the next tragedy.

The problem with Punjab isn’t just the horrors taking place every day, the girls and boys and men and women falling victim to this conflict, whether by accident or choice. It’s the people who have an idea what’s going on, and yet dismiss it. It’s the people who could be making a stand, who could be fighting against the system and pushing for change, and yet they’re engrossed in their own lives, willfully oblivious to their own luxury and how they could be using it. There’s no neutral in a situation like this- keeping your eyes averted doesn’t keep you out of the problem, it makes you complicit.

And I understand that a lot of people are unable to spend time and money on such ventures. They’re barely eking out their own survival, trying to help their children succeed, get enough money for food on the table, enough to pay off the consequences of corrupt politicians and keep their lives at peace. And the ones with enough money and free time to not even worry about such things are usually living off of the imbalanced system. Why would they want change?

But where are the youth? Where are the young adults filled with zeal and so much potential? They’re the ones who should be taking to the streets, so where are they? I’ll tell you. They’re lying in the gutters; they’re partying to the very songs that Tommy Singh’s were a mockery of. They’re throwing back shots and laughing at the idea of mortality, or they’re stuck in their books and fantasy worlds where the only thing that matters is their own success. They’ve lost their sense of empathy; they have no concept of fighting for others to make the world a better place. These young adults have lost their way. And until they get up and start paying attention, until they open their eyes and decide that they want to be part of the solution, not the problem, there’s no hope for this country. Until they decide they’re done losing, we’ve truly lost Punjab.

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

This is how it begins

Short intro- my name is Eveleen Kaur, you’ll probably be seeing me the most on here. There are others too, but they’ll introduce themselves as they see fit.

The purpose of this blog is to share the thoughts and observations that we either can’t on our own, or hope will make some sort of impact.

I’m in medical school in north India, and the freedom of speech here is rather… limited. The circumstances are bit unique too. So the types of stuff I’ll be posting are mostly my observations of my college and classmates, and venting frustration on the various problems plaguing our society. I’m also big on calling my fellow young adults to action. I honestly, truly believe that if we try, we can change the world

Feel free to call me out if you disagree with anything or if I make a mistake, as I acknowledge that I have much to learn and am likely to make many mistakes. I love discussions and highly encourage any counter arguments you would like to make.

Hope you join our rebellion.