What am I doing here?

Tiffany to herself: " What am I doing here?"
And then realizing I am nearby, she apologized to me and remarked that I should be asking that question to myself quite often; More so than her because I am from a different continent. I replied, " No.... I have not asked that question because I came here by choice, to pursue what I wanted". I am still wondering about her reply!:" Oh! then you have asked that question to yourself!". "No!... I was just responding to your remark" I protested feebly.

This small incident was such a small thing in the larger picture of the workday. However, in my mind, the question it raised was no small thing. Have I really asked that question to myself? Do I question my motives for having come here? Is this question so important in the first place?

Well, I slowly went over the events that led to where I am right now; The first time I saw the term 'genetic engineering'; The first time, someone explained the potential of 'gene therapy'; The first time I thought of gene therapy and HIV in the same sentence; The times I thought of half-baked ideas to cure HIV; The times I was called the AIDS guy; The times when I would immediately wake up from monotony upon hearing anything about HIV; The times I knocked on the doors of the labs working on HIV only to be refused; The days I waited in tense anticipation after applying to Universities with strong research cores in HIV; The year of waiting along the sidelines as the world marched inexorably; The process of reapplying; The days of interviews and finally the decision to come to Missouri; Looking back and listing out these thoughts, the journey seems to be long. The common theme however has been passion- passion that I will settle for nothing lesser than pitting what little thought I have against HIV.

Where is this passion leading me to? Today I am here working on a part of what I have always wanted to work on. Esoteric it be as it may, my work is leading me to someplace, I know not what, I know not how- but someplace where I shall find satisfaction. An advanced science degree, recognition for being what I am and the sense of self-satisfaction seem to be breathing points in the longer journey that I have embarked on.

Now that I am here, what am I doing here? Am I on the journey or am I on the threshold? As of today, I have started on the work/walk part of the journey. The cognition and the queries that go along with it have just now started. I am learning and learn I shall to slowly trudge along the road to salvation- The road which will ultimately lead to some important day when the virus shall be stopped in its tracks. In the larger picture of the things, I am just a small part of the machine. I hope to be an important part of the machine someday.

Again, What am I doing here?- Walking. Walking the walk

The Mask

About 3 years old....
I wanted the hot cars racer. My mom refused to get it for me. I cried.
About 7 years old...
I wanted a new board game. My dad refused. I threw a tantrum.
About 14 years old....
I wanted a parker pen. My dad said I would lose it very easily. I acted sad.
About 19 years old....
The girl I liked said no. I acted heartbroken.
Now- 23 years
I think about all these and one thought comes to my mind immediately- The MASK
Every single time, I would have done easily pretty well without whatever I had wanted at that point of time. But I just had to act out my emotions then. It was all a mask. A mask that would have conveyed how I felt about it at that time; A mask that would change with time. A mask is just something that I want others to perceive- a part of what I want them to know- A truth that is half exposed.

Today, I wonder what are these emotions. Are they what I feel? Are they real? I am not sure I know the answer. Why should sadness be expressed with tears and frowns. Why should happiness be expressed with a smile. Is the reaction innate? or has it been taught to us in this fashion? If my face were to be carved in granite and every time I feel something, all I have to do is wear a mask that would depict my face in a contortion that would be understood as my thought. Well seems to me like I am just thinking in a weird way, where the social convention has a different meaning to me. Does not mean that I am going to change it. I shall practice this and make the mask perfect such that I can let others know what I am not feeling too.

Calmness, when my heart races and does a little dance.
Happiness when all I want to do is wring my heart and do the crudest surgery on it.
Sympathy when all I want to do is tie the other person's tongue in an irretrievable knot
Impassiveness when some comments have guillotined my ego

This is what everyone does and it is the accepted social convention. The planet of masks welcomes you!