Somewhere in the middle
The art of living is all about learning how to live in the moment. To be. It’s obviously very difficult to shred away the bullshit and…
The art of living is all about learning how to live in the moment. To be. It’s obviously very difficult to shred away the bullshit and enjoy the lightness of now. Our mind remains addled by garbage that it shouldn’t bother itself with but somehow does. We already know that nothing matters except the few people who do make a difference to your existence. None of our I-care-about-the-world nonsense holds water in the long run. Sooner or later, it becomes clear why we are the way we are. So many moments, so few realizations. The answer was supposed to be hidden in us but it turns out the answer doesn’t recognize the question anymore. It has achieved complete independence. If only we knew how to replicate this stunt.
I am scared of so many things that it’s not funny. Sudden movements startle me. Loud noise destabilizes me. Graphic images leave me without appetite for hours. My desk/table has to be set in a particular manner to enable peace. These are examples of causes and effects; hence manageable to some extent. The worst part to deal with are the unsubstantiated fears. Unknown variables trigger anxiety in me and as the day progresses, I learn to steer myself through. However, it takes practice. Earlier, say 6–7 years ago, I used to go blank worrying about what-may-happen scenarios. As of today, I tell myself that it’s OK to not know how the day is going to be like by 9am.
Do you sleep well? Yes? Good. Do you dream well? No? Cool. These questions are mutually exclusive. There are people who sleep very well; 8 hours straight with no pee break. But it’s not necessary that they visit an exquisite dreamland. Not to suggest that they should have a secret fantasy world where pleasant events are unfolding but wouldn’t it be nice if it occurs? A place where you are able to express yourself in ways you can’t do in the real world. A place where you fly and run at a speed that defies the laws of physics. A place where you driving a train and applying the brakes just moments before a herd of elephants cross the tracks. A place where you never fumble and are eloquent as fuck. A place where you get to meet folks you know aren’t meant to meet you. Such a place — regardless of how impossible it seems — exists only in your mind. And if you are able to visit it often, aren’t you lucky? Moreover, if you remember few instances at least from such sojourns, aren’t you the luckiest?
I spotted a sunbird this afternoon. It’s the closest India has to a hummingbird. A petite bird that appears to know what it’s doing. That’s the beauty of nature anyway; everybody is in sync with the stories of their lives. Hummingbird is the tiniest bird of all but its size shouldn’t deceive you. Here is a species that has evolved in a manner that continues to astound biologists. As you must have read somewhere, it can flap its wings over 60 times per second. Imagine. But to do that, it has to consume nutrients throughout the day. In fact, it spends almost its entire waking hours either looking for food or feeding itself: close to 50 meals a day! Yes, and if that isn’t self-sustaining enough, they have to wake up every morning. If a hummingbird doesn’t get up at sunrise, it’s going to die. Why? Because its energy-efficient body needs constant food intake. For a bird that lives for 4–5 years, it really does get going, doesn’t it? So, the next time you don’t feel like getting up from your bed in the morning, think of a hummingbird that doesn’t have a choice.
Do you remember those two rascals who flung a dog off the terrace in Chennai? I won’t suggest you to watch this viral video from 2016 but there were several tidbits worth noting. For one, the poor dog (her name is Bhadra, she was rescued later) was wagging her tail as this rowdy of a medical student was preparing to canon her off the parapet. You could see the perfect mix of evil and indifference in the man’s face as he carries out his cheap thrill. In his mind, he must have felt so proud of himself to mete out such a cowardly act. The fact that these two (other guy recorded the video) were in final year MBBS tells you a lot about empathy. Now that we know Bhadra is doing fine — she is a survivor like most street dogs are — I wonder what happened to these medical students. They were fined by the authorities but that’s about it. The definition of ‘justice’ doesn’t cover animal cruelty.
Without readers, there are no writers. Yet, seldom do we hear somebody being propped for great reading. She enjoys reading books and has ‘voracious reader’ plastered on her IG profile but does that say anything about ‘reading’ as an art form? Those who can read and are good at it don’t realize how rare their skill is. Most people can’t read, despite spending close to two decades on formal education. They start yawning and cure their insomnia within minutes of going through three pages. On the other end of the spectrum, great readers devour words at a scale mere mortals can’t relate to. Not only is their reading superfine but their retention is extraordinary. They read 10 pages and remember almost all of it. Such specimens aren’t celebrated as much as they should be. Because for every Murakami who isn’t bagging a Booker or a Nobel anytime soon, there has to be a reader there equally talented on the other end who remains unrecognized.
The less said about COVID-19, the better. As of now, there are about 146000 cases of coronavirus in the world, with 5450 already dead in less than 3 months. With footprints in 110 countries, this is indeed a classic case of a pandemic outbreak. In comparison, between 2013 and 2016, Ebola killed over 11,000 people, mostly in African countries. So, yes, there is panic in the air for a good reason. Interestingly, India has fared better than most, despite sharing the border with China (the worst affected country of all). So far, despite a gargantuan population of 1.38 billion, India has registered 84 cases with two fatalities. If we manage to control the tide going forward, with the right mix of knowledge and precaution, nothing like it. As of now, it seems like this disease is airborne — vectored by those who can afford to fly in airplanes — and hasn’t bothered those who haven’t stamped their passports yet. But if we fail somehow and go down the way Italy and Iran did, then there will be chaos of unprecedented proportions. With the sort of media we are blessed with, we must hope and strive for the best.
A broken jar on the cold floor,
Hundred pieces scattered galore,
What was once beautiful is no more,
Only remnants left of a magnificent lore.
Well, the potter saw things differently though,
He picked them all up and brought them home,
With the axle spinning inside the wet womb of earth,
His palms brought those pieces back to life once more.
For decades, following our independence from the British yoke, the economists used the phrase “Hindu rate of growth” to describe our twisted adherence to socialism. Shows how bigotry can be normalized as long as the masses are subservient to a popular idea. It took Narasimha Rao’s government in early 1990s to carry out the most logical task with our marketplace: open it. And with that move, we finally lost the privilege to laugh at ourselves for our sluggish economy. About 30 years later, it’s intriguing to note that in the presence of a so-called nationalist government, whether our economic growth is more Hindu or Secular than ever before?
When you admit that your marriage failed, are you taking responsibility or are you removing yourself from it? Also, in a conservative subcontinental setting, all failed marriages don’t end up with a divorce. Although there are different reasons why two individuals enter the institution of marriage, the most practical reason has something to do with acceptability. Otherwise, these two humans can live together without having to call themselves married. The way I see it, marriage is a long, enduring act of teamwork. Both the parties should be on the same page even if they aren’t on the same paragraph. Failing which, things begin to lose steam and the coach goes awry, and in worst cases, gets derailed. Sadly, a lot of emphasis is placed on the concept of passion. I personally feel passion is a poetic word for purpose. A couple doesn’t necessarily have to keep touching each other all the time — particularly in these testing corona times, they certainly shouldn’t — but intimacy plays a significant role. Sometimes, binge-watching a series with your SO on Saturday afternoon can bring you closer than a romantic dinner on Friday night. Depends on time and circumstances. Yet, the answer to the question proposed in the first sentence of this paragraph is hidden in the details: somebody certainly didn’t pull their share of weight.