The price of pursuit.

At many points in my life, I have wondered if what I someday hope to achieve is really worth all that I am giving up in this pursuit of the elusive. I am at that point once again. Recently a lab colleague received the news that her mother was in an accident and had to rush back to her native country. I don’t know if she made it in time. That was the trigger for my latest bout of contemplation. In the past, on occasions like this, I would deliberate and argue with self, resulting in some really bad effects on my psyche. So this time around, I have decided to let it out. As a graduate student in India, I was pretty clear about what my goal was. There was probably a kind of arrogance that I knew what my priorities at that point ought to be. Work hard, be as much published as possible, keep my supervisor happy, get a PhD. So I skipped over many many important events. I would visit my parents at the most once a year though it would have taken only an overnight trains to reach their place. I did not take a day off to meet friends who were visiting from abroad after a while. It was really hard to take some time off to attend friends’ wedding or school reunions. I did not even remember to take my mind off the depressing spectra so I could call and say good-bye to a dear friend who was setting off to distant lands in pursuit of scientific truths. In the end, I managed to work hard and was even given a piece of paper in recognition of that work which proclaimed that I am a doctor (“who cannot cure people”). But I couldn’t accomplish my other two goals of graduate school. At the end of it, I asked myself, was it worth? As a post-doc, living thousands of miles farther away from my family, I have published more work and have earned the respect of supervisors. I have still not got my life’s priorities straight, though. The greatest regret of my life yet is that I was not there to welcome my son into this world. Now, as I watch him grow up over Skype, I find myself asking yet again, is it worth?