The Thesis Story Part V: Completion is Sweet.

The more I think of it, the more I see the entire year as a long marathon. Clique I know. But true.

The last few days of thesis writing was a nightmare of endless writing and editing and begging for people to read and edit it. It became a whole routine. Your shoulder ache, your mind is bursting at the seams. You eat and think of thesis-worthy phrases. Walk out of the door and wonder if you are wearing underwear. You forget if you have brushed your teeth for the night, or for the day.

Think of your worst nightmare… Envision it all happening while you are awake and conscious.

Now you got an idea of how it all feels.

But there is a clear difference, between your horrible nightmare and the thesis writing process. Yours end in sleepless nights and sweaty PJs, mine end in a bounded book and peaceful nights free of thesis thoughts and full of sleep.

You see the difference yet?

So anyway, I had to say, thank you dear friends and wayward readers, for reading and understanding my life all this while. And if you did not understood it, thanks for trying.

And thank you, blog. For being the platform for angry and vent-ish thoughts. While sometimes I do feel angst at having to pluck blog-a-ble material out of thin air, mostly I feel released and clear-minded after writing a post, or two. And the blog was a great great object for these. Although inanimate.

Geez… felt like I am writing my acknowledgements all over again. Anyway, for the record: I cried while writing my acknowledgements. But that is a story for another day.

For now, I leave you with a short thing I wrote about running sometime back. Random I know, but it means too much to be to not share it.

There must be somewhere that this path must end.

Pounding breath. My vision jarred with every step. Howling winds. I feel the earth rising to meet my feet.

Would I be able to stay the course, moving one shuffling feet in front of the other? Meeting effort with hard gravel, keeping my eye on what may be waiting at the very end.

This path. It twists and winds. I see not further than the next ten feet. But anxious minds seek; further.

I need to make the intangible: mine.