Edgy Trams and Ugly Doctors

Graz, Austria, 2018.

  

  I am so fucked off today. Not only did I wake up grumpier than a grandpa and groggier than a hobo who'd just shot up heroin, I also woke up late. To make matters worse, I had to wear a microphone in class for an agonising one-and-half hour, further perpetuating the Indian-working-in-a-call-centre stereotype.

  I have been doing more of what I love this week and not overwhelming myself with social obligations. So, naturally, the first thing I did was getting my procrastinating ass to Graz on Tuesday. Now, I might have been too penurious to buy avocados for the rest of the week, but the important thing is I made it there. I saw a new place. 

  Graz reminded me of Salzburg; I loved how accessible the woods are from the city and how I only needed a debilitating twenty minutes to receive a stunning view of the city. For free! No need for metros and buses. I realised just how acutely I missed walking. In Innsbruck, I would walk everywhere. Never mind how far, I would walk. The Inn would wail, the mountains would weep, as the pollen swept the air, the trees would shed their leaves in respect. 

  Anyway, now that we have taken care of my oh-my-god-I-am-enjoying-life bullshit, can we, finally, take a minute and discuss the fact that the medicine uni shuttle/tram in Graz is edgy as fuck?
Matt black. 
  
  Matt black!
  
  The fuck is this magnificence is wasted on med-students? 

 Matt black. Matt-mother-fucking-black. 
  
  The fuck do they need it for? Aren't y'all too busy saving lives and stealing drugs to stay awake on your shifts? I, for one, always am suspicious about attractive doctors. You mean to tell me that you are that attractive and you do not depend on your looks to get you through life? For me, the uglier my doctor, the more likely it is that the honour of treating me is going to befall him/her.  

  This is precisely why I refuse to grant my grandma's wish of getting with a well-to-do Indian boy (a doctor) - because all the good ones are ugly. What's the point of marrying a good-looking doctor if you are going to be neck-deep in lawsuits because your significant other sucks? 

Eight A.M. Lectures Are Unnecessary

  

  Could someone do me the favour of shooting me?

  Would it be considered rude to pull out my spanking-new Sedaris and read? Probably not—I am sitting at the back of the lecture hall—, but I'd be judged by my neighbours, and I am just not ready for that kind of social pressure. Not now when I am going through my people-free phase. To be fair, though, how people-free could I really be whilst sharing the same kitchen and lavatory as a friend and being too well-mannered to turn around and not answer when someone asks me something at university in their adorable Austrian accent. Did my parents have to give me a good upbringing? Why couldn’t I have had two heroin addicts as my parents, who had slightly more pressing issues than their child growing up without the respectable amount of comity?

At least, I am writing this blog post, so not everything is in vain, even though I still consider eight a.m. lectures quite unnecessary. It’s not like anyone is actually listening. 

  I read this interesting observation in Goldberg’s Writing Down The Bones: women, more than men, frame their sentences as questions. We seek constant validation by doing so—an affirmation what we believe is true. This made me analyse how I use language and ta-fucking-da! My sentences often embody the interrogative form. So do most of my female friends. For the past week, every time I catch myself doing that, I stop and remove the question-bit of the sentence. 

  
  Another thing women employ more than men are words like appear, seem, might, I feel, etc.—another sign of unassertiveness. Passiveness, even. 

It is fascinating how a simple sentence changes if you take out a few words. 

This conversation is quite redundant, isn’t it? 

  Now, take out the last two words. 

This conversation is quite redundant. 

  Different, right? Now, take out one last word: quite. 

This conversation is redundant. 

  Read that last sentence again. 

  And again. 

  Be honest. Whom did it sound like? 

  It sounds like a certain type of person—a certain type of man. 

Doesn’t it?

This New Place

As much as I love moving around constantly I have to admit that moving to a foreign place is unnerving.  I moved recently, again. It is not an unchartered territory for me; I have come here pretty often in the past year. But at the end of the day the truth is although not unchartered, this city is foreign. I have no friends, no routine, no favourite places here. So, this is me giving a few helpful tips to all those who find themselves in my position.

1) DISCOVER: Discover the city. You might be thinking DUH!, but let me tell you, it is easier said than done. Especially, when you can go back home and are holed up in your bed with Netflix and a pizza. Find new cafes, restaurants, gardens, running tracks and who knows what, because you need to get to know your new home. Go walk random streets until your feet are sore, and begging you to stop.

2) ROUTINE: We humans are creatures of habit, and as loathe as I am to say this, we do need structure in our lives to prosper. So go ahead and build a new routine; have Pizza Fridays or go buy breakfast from the same bakery every morning.

3) ACCEPTANCE: Accept that it is inevitable that you sometimes feel lonely and homesick, and that it is okay because it is a part of this new chapter of your life.

4) RESEARCH: Yes, research. Google if there are places near you that irk your interest, or day trips worth taking on the weekends. This will make all the difference. 

5) TOURIST: Be a tourist. This is the best time to do all the touristy things possible; you have just moved here and nobody knows you, hence there is no way that you will bang into an acquaintance when you are doing something stupid. Go take stupid selfies in front of the town's main attractions and be stupid.

6) FAVOURITES: Find your favourite coffee shop, your favourite place to sit at when you need a safe haven. This step is inevitable and crucial at the same time. It can be compared to a brand new house that you have just bought, bare of all your belonging. Then, you start unpacking and shuffling things around - a few photo frames here and there, your favourite souvenir on your bed-stand- and suddenly that house you just bought transforms into your home. Just like that, this city that you moved to becomes your city.

7) FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR CITY: This is, by far, the most important thing that helps you feel at home. You have to go out of your way and fall irrevocably in love with your city. Notice the random things that make it a great city to live in, your favourite season over there, your favourite things about it. 

Hopefully, by the time you are done using some of these tips, you will be feeling more at home than when you started.