The Diary of an Unemployed Academic – Part 2
The disengagement phase took a rather long duration of time for me. In fact, as of the date of writing, I feel the college still has been in touch with me. Some in the senior management want me to resume my services too. However, I think that is not the best for any party concerned. When there is a change in management or differing ideas about how an organization should be taken forward, it is best to part ways as friends. This is precisely what I wish to do.
After the disengagement phase, it is obvious to think that there is an engagement with another organization. However, a few more stages between disengagement and re-engagement seemed to exist in my case. For me, this stage was seeking purpose.
Seeking purpose:
For some time after resigning, I kept asking myself, “what am I doing with my life”. Clearly, there were bills to pay and staying at home was not going to help me with that. So, I decided to help-out around home and find activities to do that I really enjoyed. I began trying to have deeper conversations with my two-year-old, make tea, help procure groceries, keep the house clean, baby sit the neighbor’s kids (and cat), fix my seven-year-old Royal Enfield, wash my own car, and groom Midgey (my cat). The process of detoxing took some time. During this time, I kept constantly looking at my phone and expecting it to ring. During the first week, there were many students who called and spoke to me for some time, asking me about how I was and if I would teach them some courses online for which I replied in the affirmative.
What my heart really earned for at this time was an adventure – AN opportunity for adventure presented itself in the form of Dr. Avadhut’s marriage. Dr. Avadhut was one of the sweetest people I know, and his marriage was scheduled to be held at Kolhapur, a fairly large town situated about 350 km south of Bombay. After much debate, it was decided that Dr. Alka, Dr. Sanja and I would travel to Kolhapur by car, and that I would drive. Given that having conversations with the road was my specialty, I was really looking forward to this trip. The night before the journey, I had cleaned the car, refueled it, checked if the pressure in the tires were ok and if all spares were present in case there was any emergency.
At 7.00 am on Friday, we had started off on our journey. The wind was fresh, the sun was just getting out of his slumber, and the car was whirring through the old Mumbai-Pune highway, a meandering road with an excellent view. Our plan was to intercept the Mumbai – Pune expressway at Lonavala, go to Pune, and then move to Kolhapur from there. The academics that we were, we had chalked out reasonably detailed plans on how the day was to proceed, but everything came to a halt just 30km into our journey – in Khopoli.
Just as we ascended the hill after Khopoli, there were white fumes that began coming out of the engine. Some quick thinking made us find a relatively safe spot to park the car and investigate. A preliminary investigation revealed that the coolant had leaked and evaporated on coming into contact with the engine. But why the coolant leaked, we did not know. Perhaps it was due to a stone hitting some internal spare part during a bumpy ride. Whatever the case was, the coolant had leaked, and it was not safe to drive a car without any coolant.
What followed from then on is probably best interpreted as divine intervention. Just as the economists and I were trying to find out what had occurred, a from a passing car saw us, got down from his car, and enquired about what had happened. We told him about the plan to drive to Kolhapur and the white fumes. After a bit of thinking, he gave us a phone number. He told us that this was a mechanic who was located nearby and mentioned that “ he may be able to help”. We called the number once the gentleman left and spoke to the mechanic. He informed us that he would be in our spot in ten minutes and asked us to relax. Relaxed was what we were. There was not an ounce of doubt in any of our faces. After what each of us had gone through in our individual lives, the leaking coolant was the least of our problems.
About fifteen minutes later, a Toyota Innova approach us, and parked just ahead of us on a slightly less steep part of the hill road. Out walked a slightly plump man in gym shorts and shoes. I had expected this to be someone who was just curious about our current predicament. However, I was going to be proven wrong just moments later. He introduced himself as Mr. Salim, and as the man who was on the other side of the phone just moments ago. After inspecting the car under the hood for a few minutes, he informed us that owned a garage near there and that he would ask his people to come tow the vehicle and get it fixed. After a few phone calls, arrangements were made to move the car from the hill road and towards Khopoli. Some of his people inspected the engine and found out that one of the angles that kept the coolant flowing throughout had cracked. Their guess, age was a factor, and the car was now clocking eleven years and 125,000 km.
While his people were busy trying to get replacements for the spare that was fractured, Mr. Salim took us around Khopoli. He showed us the beautiful Gagangiri Maharaj Mutt that was absolutely astounding after having arrange some breakfast for all of us. He was a very hospitable host who seemed to have a certain warmth radiating from him. All three of us, on a normal day, would never accept anything form anyone for free. But to this new acquaintance, we were unable to refuse pretty much anything. Over the course of the next three odd hours, she had shown us around Khopoli, and arranged for lunch too. His people went all the way to Panvel, over 30 km away, to procure the spare to get the car running. While we were by the Mutt, I called one of our other faculty colleagues and explained to her what had happened. I also informed her that we did not want to go back home but wanted to go to the temple by night fall. She listened carefully, and told us, “The Goddess test those who try to come to her. Now that this hurdle is crossed, your journey will be smooth, and you will see the Goddess”. Just as she told us this, the news of the car having been fixed and ready to move reached us. Mr. Salim escorted us to the location, and after testing if the fans of the car were starting at high temperatures, he bid us farewell.
The journey to Kolhapur after this was largely uneventful. We had reached the city just around night fall. We then checked into the hotel that we had booked, freshened up, and got out of the hotel to go to the temple. We took and auto there and expected to reach the temple by around 8.20 or so. The temple was beautiful, very well-lit and quite small when compared to south Indian standards. Just as we were getting a glimpse of the Goddess, my phone rang twice. I missed the calls. But managed to return them quickly thereafter. On the phone was the voice of the first man we met today, the man who gave us Mr. Samir’s contact information. I thanked him profusely and introduced myself. His name was Dr. Aslam. And he was a professor of Strategy in a local college near Khopoli. Imagine the mysterious ways God connects people. He then told me that his two children (twins) were autistic and he spends most of his time with them. He then asked if I could pray for his children too. Just as those words entered my ears, my eyes started tearing. In a world filled with some much of hate, specifically along religious lines, here was a Muslim man asking if I could pray in a Hindu temple for the welfare of his children. If this was not God’s Thiruvilayadal, what was to follow is just one step. I offered my prayers for his two children, my colleague who was going to get married the next day, and everyone else who was near and dear to me.
After having darshan of the Goddess, we decided to perform sixteen prikarmas (going around the temple). Since going around just the Goddess was not possible (because the security would not allow it), we had to go around the entire temple, within the inner walls. After fifteen prikarmas, when we were just about to embark on the sixteenth, the goddess herself was brough out on a palanquin. We had happily gone around the temple one last time, this time with the goddess. The thought on all our minds was this, “it was for this moment that everything that happened earlier that day happened”. Perhaps this was all a journey to seek some sort of purpose. The whole of the next week was going to be spent attending one faculty recruitment seminar after another. And I hope and pray that all will go well.
