Hindsight is faulty, I remind myself, every time I find myself mulling over my past decisions and their outcomes... I'm not a very important person, thankfully, with many lives depending for their directions on what I do; but certainly, at least for some lives, for those lives whose I am a purpose of life, my decisions do matter, and so their outcomes. It wasn't an exam, there wasn't fear of failure, the only conditions were strong determination maybe reaching to the levels of stubbornness, a commitment of not leaving or not changing the pathway, of sticking to the decision and tolerating whatever the consequences might be, suffering everything without surrendering to the situation while keeping the morals alive breathing with unadulterated mind, while keeping inner desires alive and the passions burning—without suffocating because of lack of hope or chance or stimulus... Joy had left my mind a long ago, there wasn't fear of being devoid of it, there wasn't fear of pain—my mind always bathing in it; tolerating huge ugly surprises offered by the destiny, I used to think I couldn't be surprised any more. There wasn't expectation of someone understanding my situation, everyone including my loved one's judging the situation with their own viewpoints, distant, far away, far far away from me, and far away from my feelings.
I loved research, wanted to explore some questions in my mind, a chance to search for the answers, to check my viewpoints and the viewpoints mentioned in my books; tired of searching my answers in books of religion and philosophy and in my own uninhibited mind and in minds of others, I knew, to take me closer to the truth science was my ultimate option. Every voyage in ocean of science for exploring the answers introduced me to a new set of unsolved questions, burning, calling my attention, waiting to be solved, so interesting that I could spend years living on their Iceland... it was like some addiction, like some drug, some hallucinogen or stimulant bathing my neurons, making me to forget my identity, it was my joy—capable of killing me without making me to feel bad for my lost life.
Life isn't just a journey of adventures in some fantastic ocean, the destiny wanted to teach me, with mundane deserts and banal landscapes occupying some of its span, life is something more than just a burning desire. Typhoons came, or tsunamis, or black outs... I got lost, living my life, trying to keep my wish alive, trying to survive in pure 'no science land', mute, as shouting was not allowed.
It was a world of mark oriented students, and teachers teaching nothing but how to gain marks... I, stunned, stunted, suffocating tried my hard to pass this zombie zone, but blind, as there wasn't light, landed into something more horrible, into a world of profit and loss, money seeking people, immoral, corrupted, harmful and even threatening to life and career if their demands left unfulfilled... I was by law forced to spend one year of my life in this managerial branch in area studded with toxic people, or people made toxic by the situation, by the filth of lack of knowledge and lack of desire for getting knowledge, the only desire they had was money, and ways of getting more money, science wasn't in their lives close to their list of joys, mocking me, harassing me for what a dumb strange alien creature I was... for my loved ones it was period of honour, for I was a medical officer—a gazetted officer and a doctor with a staff of more than thirty working under my supervision; for me it was a dark period with me struggling to get out of my intellectual and emotional coma, crying when alone, always counting the remaining days of my bond period.
Days passed, months went away, years passed, and here I find myself, alive, striving again near my starting point. More than a decade has passed in my efforts, and here I am, still trying, stubborn, with increased passion, and with a bunch of certificates, some money and a degree allowing me to write a prefix 'Dr.' before my name and a license to practice medicine, some nightmares, dull dark memories, some scars, some unhealable wounds on mind, some altered beliefs, lots of pain, unbridgeable loneliness, but stronger, tougher, more informed, and aware that I still can be surprised... It feels good to be conscious again. Maybe Phoenix isn't just a myth, maybe it's a symbol of the scientist in my mind.