The little things I enjoyed today

 Will make this quick:

1. A beautiful walk in the neighborhood. A bush had lavender blossoms that looked so serene and meditative. I also saw an uprooted tree which was slightly tragic. But the exposed roots looked magical - like the workings of a complicated destiny. (I have some pictures on Instagram, which you could check out.)

2. https://youtu.be/JHm39JA0YoE - I have been bingeing on this show so hard. I watch segments of this show on YouTube and I love it. I would like to be a salesperson in a store like this. (I love bridal gowns - especially the fitted ones with lace and beading all over. The online H&M store also carried a selection a while ago.)

3. Made a dip with vegetarian mayo, chopped green chillies, and a smidgeon of mustard oil. Had this with poha and corn chips.

Knot or tangle

There are some NGOs that send you updates for the specific individuals whose cause you contribute to. So if you have given money for someone's baby's hospitalization, you get an update on how the baby is faring.  At times you get a message that the baby has passed away. Could not be saved. It is really, really hard.

I had written to these organisations on considering alternative therapy. In my experience, medical treatment without insurance can really break your back, stress out the family, and I think maybe the patient himself or herself starts feeling that they are being a burden and should not continue. Of course little babies may not know what is going on. But slightly older children, the elderly...

My mom's treatment for breast cancer was so one entirely without insurance. I am so grateful that we could all earn and bring in the funds as and when required. But it can cripple a family for years to come, even after the patient is no more. 

It's not like I think that alternative healing like Ayurveda or Reiki or Pranic Healing is more effective. (I know that I find them more effective for myself. And also that it is so hard to find a good, wholesome healer who is also not using a patient's case to push their own agenda.)But I really do wonder why are all these energy-centered practices called 'Alternative'? Why aren't they mainstream? They have certainly been around longer, their methods are codified (no one is relying on oral history here), experiments and studies have been conducted...is it because studying these do not require as much rigor as studying conventional medicine? Or there is no central authority to monitor the practice of these areas? 

This model of the NGOs only raising money for traditional medical treatment is not seeming to be a very good idea. I don't know if they are getting doctors to operate for free or less money. But for every individual case if you have to look at raising 1, 2 lakhs or more, how can it be sustainable? I wish I could look at the picture of a person and heal him or her. Especially a baby. The one that passed away today had tiny pixie-like ears and a little cookie-dough face. He had bright, shiny eyes and a head full of hair.

I don't think death is either bad, avoidable or even the end. That little baby is in a good, happy place free of pain. One just wonders if we could have provided some relief to him and his family while he was still around.

A tender little flower, in the sweetest hour, lay down to sleep and dreamed up a lullaby

Today I finished my last day at the company I was contracted with. It was a three-month contract and a good stint. I really like working like that...one or two months at a time. I want to be so good at my work that when people engage me on a project for a brief spell, it should feel like a 'season of Mukta'. That's nice, I think...I like to see myself as a season and not a freelancer. The thing is that I have started feeling like I am not very good at my work anymore. Because it is coming too easy. And I am not giving the work to percolate inside me, stew a little, maybe even become rancid and acidic...but basically mingle with all the other words and failures and successes I have had in life. I want to do some work, some writing, some creation of course content - where the pain shows through but not the labour. I don't know if it makes sense.

Now, obviously, nobody on LinkedIn is really looking for a 'season of Mukta' or anything like that. (It is heartening to see that the delusion is restricted to myself now.) Or if they have worked with me and not had a good experience, then all of my procrastination, temper, etc. has just led them to equate the Mukta season to be some hot, sweltering mess. But actually, I have never worked for myself. I think I should do that now. Take some time out to pick something from my heart and write. Give myself three to six months to do this. I do think I deserve it now. I do think I have to build myself some more to do this. And I am working on it every day. So soon, I will be prepared and ready to engage with myself. 

I am having a nice cup of tea now and blogging. Today, I was really madly agitated about a hundred things so I wrote it all out in my diary. I think I will write some more. Right now, I do not go back and read back what I have read. I am waiting to finish the whole notebook and then I will revisit it. I love to see lines and pages get filled up with my handwriting. 

Sometimes people approach me for their start-up ventures or things like that based on what they have read on this blog. They want me to write like this for them. And try as I might, I can't. Rather, that request itself puts me off a little bit. I mean, I don't know why. This is something that I have always wanted - that my writing alone should get me work. But the blog - is not so much writing as it is living. Or maybe not. It is still writing. I think I feel a little anxious because I don't want to write like this for anyone else before I have written like this for myself. I don't know why I am referring to myself as two different people but ever since I have started writing my diary properly, I sense a certain detachment from the actual business of living.

So, interestingly, some people read this blog and they get a feeling of underlying joy. And they want me to bring that optimism and cheer to their venture. Some others read the blog and sense an underlying sorrow. And they want to bring that tristesse to the writing. I don't know what underlies the writing on my blog. I would think joy. But I have noticed that I do better writing for those who detect the sadness. 

I had seen an interview of Zoya Akhtar where someone asked her about the casting of MC Sher. When she talked to the actor, apparently he had asked her whether she wanted Sher the tiger or Sher the lion? She responded that she wanted Sher the lion. Apparently that was the question that made her realize that she'd made the right decision. (I had absolutely loved Gully Boy!)

I think even though I think I am fairly upbeat and cheerful, maybe I trust the instincts of those who see the sadness. 

Younique

When my office was in Marol, commute was tough. At times, I would wait for over an hour and a half and not get an autorickshaw. Often, buses would be crowded. Cabs would be too costly. No one was carpooling and I wasn't friends with anyone who could drive. There was no Ola or Uber. So I would often walk home from Marol Naaka to Ambedkar Road, Bandra West. 

It was a long walk and during rains, it was especially treacherous with open drains, potholes, etc. 

Still, the toughest part about that journey was crossing the road to get to the other side. Cars would not stop or even slow down. There was no cop and the red light didn't really matter. So I would wait there, on the side. A crowd would form. A gathering of a motley group with assorted footwear (heels, slippers, Oxfords, sneakers, etc.), different types of clothes (snug skirts, low-rise jeans, rayon trousers beginning at the chest, tees, blouses, etc.), and different types of strides (long, sideways, teeny tiny advancements, etc.) All of us would wait and suddenly, we would all move in the face of ongoing traffic and hefty danger from speeding cars. It's impossible to know who moved first, who took the risk first...but someone did and collectively, it seemed as if we would float across to the safety of the other side.

So many times, I would think of that as a mundane miracle happening every single time a crowd reached a tipping point. As fascinating as it was to be part of it, it was equally surreal to watch it from a height. We could see this precise traffic spot from high up and it would feel like a symphony...that at a specific moment, this crowd, like a note, would rise, float across, subside and dissipate.

Strange...the things one remembers.

Walk around the neighborhood

I went for a short walk around the neighborhood. I had to buy a few kgs of rice but all the shops were shut by the time I reached them it was around 6:45 in the evening and the sky was a rose potion pink. It was beautiful. I had just opened a suitcase full of clothes that had come from Bangalore. Found a snug black tee from Nike with bright pink and white stones studded on it. I like stuff like that - things that make black cheery. Wore that with a pair of joggers (such a useless style of pants) and a plain old mask. 

The parks in Vashi are outrageously beautiful now! The green is pure and grass gleam like shards of jewels. Sure, the parks haven't been mowed but the trees have grown and gotten stronger and so many vines and creepers seem to have taken over neighborhood walls. It was quite a sight! I felt like I was walking through the Metropolitan Museum of Leaves. There should be such a thing.

I have been journaling a fair bit today and I can honestly say that it is not just saving my own sanity, but my personal scribing is helping my family. I realised that a lot of my emotional reactions are just forces of habits. And like a habit, an emotional reaction can change. But it is important to understand the full landscape of that habit, as it were. It was formed for a reason, in a context, and it served me well then. It's not serving me well now. But I go back to it simply because it is familiar territory. And anything unfamiliar, even if benign, seems to risky for survival. When I feel triggered, I first write down a set of basic tenets that help me formulate my thoughts. The first foundational tenet that I write to keep reminding myself is that whatever is happening in my heart or stomach or throat or head...it is still happening inside me. And as long as it's in me, I can tend to it. The other thing I realised while writing is that when I use the phrase, "I will tend to my anger or anxiety or frustration...", it soothes me instantly. Instead if I write (or think) the words, "I can control it...", I can see a stubborn little territory in me raise a tiny black flag in response and declare war. Not what we want.

Also, I have decided to tackle one issue a month. This way I can do justice to exploring  what exactly the entanglements are. Sixteen years as an instructional designer has taught me something...that the stated problem is very rarely the actual problem.

Now the blog post is done, I will have some coffee and pick out happy ex-Bangalore clothes for tomorrow.