So...

 Today has been spectacularly painful. 

And a stupid week begins tomorrow.

But the moon was beautiful tonight. I went out for a walk later than usual. It was sweet and peaceful...and hot. Had Malta juice at Bagel Shop. Returned.

Spoke to Dad. Brother pinged something about local trains. An invoice is still not cleared.

It's feeling so exhausting. But cook had made really tasty pyaaz parathas.

Not too shabby then. 

But I am still nauseated and I really don't want to tackle work. Maybe tomorrow I bow out. 

This is what it feels like

 In an attempt to remove this suffocating pain and anger, I have tried to paint it out. This is what I came up with:

It's a dead still-born inside an angry womb. But it is growing more coarse and black with every passing second. It's tentacles are reaching inside everywhere and soon they will reach my head and my heart. And then I will turn into a beast. The only way to get that out is to soften the dark knot by seeping it in something pleasant. That's when the knot will soften as well as the tentacles. They will dissolve into a dark sea of meaningless fury and hurt. But they will not have reached the heart and the brain.

I might be saved yet.

Shitty Saturday

 Today was crap. It still is crap. And it's likely that tomorrow is not going to be any better. And it's never going to get better. It's a shitty day. And it's a shitty world. And it's full of shitty people. Everything is horrible. And everyone is horrible. 

Even so, there were some things I learned today:

1. I quite enjoyed painting canvas. Well, I am not good at it at all. But I liked the two that I did. 

The second one is the one I painted first. It is Varanasi...the ghats that I painted from memory. Maybe that's why the temple-tops are looking a little like Hiranandani Powai. But I like the sweet, sepia-tint of the early evenings in Varansi, just before MP and I would take our boat rides. Tried to replicate that. 

The second one is...well...lips of a woman who belongs to pleasure and pleasure belongs to her. Like Venus, maybe. After I painted her, I tried to paint a bit of the background. But it came out looking like a flag. That is interesting...The Republic of Sensuousness. It would be an interesting country to live in. Passports would be luxe velvet, scented with sandalwood and mogra. 

2. A little boy and his father (I assume it was the father) approached me for alms. Rather they asked me if I could buy them flour and oil. Brother and V had told me to not buy them stuff because they sell it back to the grocery store. These people didn't seem to be cunning like that and that little boy was cute. So I told him that I would get them toasted sandwiches. While the sandwich guy made them, this little fellow was poking the hot stove, cheekily looking at the sandwich-waala and me. He knew he was being naughty. Later when he got the sandwich, he asked me if he could have more chutney. I asked him if he would prefer ketchup. He said he wanted chutney. So the sandwich guy gave him some more and told him that it was spicy. This boy grinned and ate a tiny bit. He beamed and told me that there was a huge cat in a neighbouring lane. I wonder if he was volunteering information in exchange for the sandwich...but that was sweet. He was a charming little fella.

3. Today I was thinking about my biggest gain when I left Bandra. It was the fact that I made real friends. Today I got the sense that here, address is very important. Proximity and convenience are important. Friends will be there if you stay close by. Otherwise not. Otherwise it's out of sight and out of mind. Actually this was the case in Bangalore and Noida as well...but Noida not as much. But this zonal premise for bonding...I think when I moved out of Bandra, that's the first thing that I saw through. And well...got a refresher today. Not pleasant. But required. 

3. I watched 'The Judge'. Quite liked it. Once you get over Robert Downey Junior's umpteenth reprisal of a cocky, unpleasant genius and Duval's stoic portrayal of a hard but principled man, it's Billy Bob Thornton all the way. I think he speaks maybe 10 sentences in the movie and features for maybe 7 minutes tops. But man! So, so good!

4. This year I thought I will read a proper Gita today...by proper, I mean a reasonably exhaustive one. Not an abridged version. I started with a few pages today. I have the set by Paramhansa Yogananda (the author of Autobiography of a Yogi). If there is one thing that I do in 2021, reading the Gita will be it.

5. I think I will talk to some of my clients and return the projects. I am getting some clarity on what I need emotionally. Some project purge needs to happen.

So ya...shitty day. But some shit is good. Shows that the system is working. 

Strange

 Last night we may have had a fire in one of the distant buildings in the neighborhood. Can't say for sure. I was feeling nauseous so I slept fitfully. Nervousness seemed to be balled up like a solid nugget inside my stomach. 

I had a dream. I felt very creeped out. Felt that someone was outside my window looking in. I woke up sweating pretty heavily. There wasn't anyone outside...well, obviously, since I live on the 8th floor. But I sensed being watched. As if someone with binoculars was peering. I also sensed that the person who was peering in was no stranger. We had met before. And he had done that before.

And then I turned towards my bedroom door where I felt something else. There was fire. My room was on fire. I opened the window, climbed onto the ledge and jumped down. 

Then I woke up. I thought I was screaming. But I wasn't. It's as if the solid nugget of nervousness was responsible fory silence.

Woke up. Made tea and put out brekker for the cleaning lady. She askede where my cook from Orissa was. I told her I had sent her to Vashi. Then she laughed and said, "So you are all alone here." I laughed and said, "Yes!" Felt good to laugh off the nervousness.

Worked a little bit. 

Felt nauseous. Slept. J called. She sent me a link of a YouTube video. We talked about that for a while. Felt dizzy again. Slept.

Woke up. For some reason, I remembered that I had to get garbage bags. So walked down Linking Road. Almost got run over by car. Got two earrings. Looked at cotton shirts. They are beautiful...that collection. But I knew that I was trying to get away from this nervousness in the pit of my stomach. Didn't help. 

Came home with garbage bags and a Diet Coke. Put it in the fridge to chill. Started feeling very sick and suffocated. Felt like weeping or punching something. Didn't. Saw the full moon.

Went out.

Walked to Bandstand.

As I stepped on the promenade, it hit me...why I preferred Carter Road to Bandstand. I was being followed. And from past experience, I know that Bandstand can be dicey. 

But I was feeling too sick to care or confront. I walked. He walked behind me. I stopped and sat to have the little cup of coffee. He sat on the ledge behind me. I picked up a ball to give it to a child. He hung back. I stopped at the amphitheatre setup there. He waited. 

Then I finished my walk. I didn't rush. Couldn't really. Was feeling too dizzy. Then tried hailing an auto. No luck. So I crossed the road and started walking. He did the same.

Then I stopped suddenly and turned and looked at him. He continued to walk past me, not looking. Then he walked in the front and stood outside a cigarette shop. He turned and looked back. He was tall, thin, wore a green cap, wore a kerchief around his face like a mask, and had a backpack. 

I hailed an auto and came home.

It has been a while since I feel I am being watched. Or followed. And now, if all this nervousness, bad dreams, and nausea in my body is any indication, this is not random. 

Walked up 8 floors to my flat... something I do everyday. Was wondering if I should go to Vashi. I would get a good night's sleep there. But no. Decided to stay.

Went to the bathroom. Threw up. 

That's when I noticed.

The blood on my dress.

Nowhere to go... that's the thing to remember...

 That there's nowhere to go.

Dad left today with the cook and I am feeling a little relieved. He will be taken care of for a bit. Which leaves me to...

I have a very dark, sinking feeling in my heart. I feel that something drastic will happen. I'll refrain from calling it 'bad' because, really, labels like good and bad don't make sense since we don't really know what is good and bad for us. But it does feel heavy. In fact, it felt so heavy in the afternoon that I slept clutching my stomach. I felt a dark knot in my tummy. A strange, hidden fear that was waking up.

J called today. That's always such a cheery thing. V came over. That's a lot of fun too. The feeling didn't pass though. Tried to make a few plans with them. But my heart is feeling choked now. 

Maybe it knows something the rest of me is not ready to see. I think I will close out for the day and close my eyes for a while. 

Nothing is going anywhere - me or whatever is inside of me. May as well get to know each other. 

Stupid, stupid day

 I worked through the night on a document and I lost it in the morning. Of course I didn't know that none of the changes had been saved. So I celebrated early morning looking at a russet sunrise and eating two bowls of phirni. V had got extra for my cook from Orissa, who I have called for a few months to take care of Dad. But she is spending a couple of days at my house first. She leaves tomorrow and I really am sad. She is so so good. 

Anyway V had got extra phirni for her and since I really love phirni, I was only too happy when she said that her doctor had ordered her to not have it. Still, I felt a little bad when I knew I was having her share. But then I peeled off the tin foil and scooped the creamy, delicately sweetened phirni and didn't feel bad any more. I got her a papaya which her doctor had recommended. (This is why I avoid docs. This useless advice on giving up phirni and all that I can't follow.)

Then my Dad came and I swear it's like he doesn't even know me. He asked me today if I wanted to learn vermiculture and go to Satara and do something. Vermiculture! Satara! I have been in the doldrums because I haven't been able to go to Zara. 

Anyway, really sad because my cook is going away tomorrow and there is no phirni in the house. I ate so much today...am happy. It's really as if my tummy is working to its full potential. Anyway, anything for Daddy. 

Losing a good cook is quite traumatic. Don't feel like working anymore. I think I will take a few days off. Anyway, my regular one is there. She is really nice too. 

I want to go back to Varanasi and be surrounded by happy kachoris and joyful jalebis. Oh...and the Ganga, of course. 

Phirni, jalebi, kachori, bhaang, Ganga, my cook from Orissa...so many things I don't have/ won't have anytime soon. Truth be told, I am feeling a little sorry for myself.

One lives in hope though. 

Ciao Tuesday

I like these little snatches of light and colour I see from my window. It looks like the road is embroidered with mismatched glitter. Leaves one with a cheery feeling.

This morning I had gone for a walk and in the evening, I did a little yoga. I often forget just how nourishing I find yoga. And how fascinating its efficiency is at showing just how misaligned and stubborn one has become. (One of my yoga teachers in Pune had told me that the spine stores memories, as does the rest of the body...but the spine more so. The whole idea of making the spine flexible is to make it easy to release the past. And if you have a stiff back, etc., it means one is holding on to something stubbornly.) 

I just mainly dawdled through the day. Had a few calls and ate one phirni again that V had got. I then didn't do much. Not that I was idle but I want to go about my life with purpose and rest. J had once told me that when one lives in flow with some universal or cosmic current, you live with 'Sahej'...(Sahej in Hindi means ease. It's a beautiful word. In Koregaon Park in Pune, there was a  clothing store called Sahej. They had beautiful stuff in organic cotton. Sahej is a great name for apparel I think. Whatever drapes your body must feel and facilitate ease.)

Anyway, day ends. There is backlog of work. But I will tackle it tomorrow.

 

A week ends

A heavy heart.

A couple of heavy meals to make myself feel better. V had got phirni and shrikhand. I ate one bowl of phirni and aata halwa. 

I think I will eat the other bowl later tonight.

Bought some inexpensive dresses from Hill Road. These I didn't need to buy. But was feeling a little sad. It's okay to fill up the void of a heart with some empty purchases and food. Especially phirni and aata halwa. I love both. If I had a house, I would make it out of bricks of aata halwa and plaster it with phirni.

Anyway, let's see what the coming week brings. (More phirni and aata halwa I hope...and some lightness of heart.)

V for Vendetta, Vendetta as Charm

 I was mighty upset with V a couple of days ago. He really can be quite insensitive. As can I, am sure. But that day I wasn't. I really wasn't. Anyway, I mulled and stewed in my displeasure for a couple of days. Then we met today.

He really is quite charming. And that's a hell of a lot of trouble. I am not really charmed but I see the mechanics of the 'smooth operation', so to speak, and it is quite admirable.

Especially when he is sitting under an open sky looking at birds. When I see him like that, I get the same feeling of joy and abandon as you get when you see the book cover of 'Motorcycle Diaries' - of Che and his friend on the bike, lit with sunlight. 

Anyway, he took a few photos at Bandstand and I love the lilt and nuance of his pictures. They are as much about what he could capture as they are about what he couldn't. 

My favourites...

In each of these, a story, a sin, a sonnet...Much like the gullies of Bandra.

Varanasi, carousel, and a child

 Back from Varanasi.

Still soaking in the spell of that place. But whilst I marinate in the rich, lush peace that I have returned with, thought I would scribble something I have been mulling about.

When we reached Varanasi  (that airport has such a doll-house quality to it, especially if you are traveling from a city where you jostle for space on the last shuttle to the plane), we strolled into the airport and waited for our luggage. 

A family with a couple of kids were waiting close by. As the luggage came on the carousel, the mom and dad started reaching for their suitcases. This distressed their little son. 

He didn't understand why they were picking up the same bags they had dropped off in Mumbai. He kept pointing to other bags and suggested that those looked nice. How about they take those? The father laughed and said that those didn't belong to them. They would have to take the same bags they carried. The son insisted that they were in a different city now. So why should they? At this point, the parents had given up. 

The little boy was given his Spiderman backpack and they were on their way out.

I spent a few days in the city. It has symbolism of epic proportions. And 'epic', for once, is not used hyperbolically here. You hear the casual references of Tulsidas writing the Ramayana on one ghat, you hear the fervent bhajans at Kashi Vishwanath, you see the Ganga, you feel the rolls of her waves on your fingers, you see a child flying a kite, hopping nimbly across boats, you feel the weight of a million hearts at Manikarnika, you feel the empty weightlessness seeping in through bhaang... it's impossible to not feel the endurance of eternity. But it's not as if my life has changed drastically after the Kashi visit, nothing is easier. I returned to the keys of my home getting stuck. And not being able to receive emails. But something is altered. 

I think of that little boy at the airport.

Maybe it is inevitable to have some baggage as you travel...after all, there is a body to take care of and a world to live in. But maybe you do get a chance to pick a different set of baggage once in a while. 

And maybe that's what makes all the difference in this trip we're on.

Memory #6

Early days of the first stint of freelancing.

Scheduling client meetings in the afternoons to benefit from empty roads and window seats in buses or local trains. 

But usually tired and cranky because I would work through the night and get only 2-3 hours of shut-eye before the meetings. 

Loved the heavy sleep in the hour long travel time. Would meet clients rested but craving coffee and snacks. Worked harder for clients who provided both.

One such trip. Was in the bus that went to Borivali from Vashi. I had to get down in Goregaon East. Looked forward to the trip because I was meeting a friend after and we were going to head out for drinks and dinner. 

Sat by the window, paid for my ticket, put my head down on the railing in front of me, and slept off. Luscious, thick sleep. Summer and heat outside. Play of shadows as the bus moved under trees. 

I woke up in the groggy state of half-sleep as the bus was passing by Powai. Saw the Powai lake. Glistening like it had a sheer shimmering fabric of rhinestones on it. It dazzled. And there was something else. Beyond the glaze of the water and light, the world felt like it was receding. It felt as if this whole world was something that was painted onto cellophane. That if you reached out and poked it with a sharp object, it would rip. And something else lay beyond. 

That feeling and that memory is so vivid. This world and all this stuff we do or don't do - it's all beautiful, flimsy, and ready to be peeled off.

Bluster

 Today is my parents' wedding anniversary. I don't know if I should say 'is' now that my mom is no more. I suppose I should say 'was'. At least legally that's the correct tense to use. I called Dad to...wish him? I didn't know what to say... didn't want him to feel sad. So I asked him about what the cook was up to and he described some cauliflower dish in great detail. I sent him a mental hug (there are some things I can't say or do to my Dad without him thinking I have a terminal disease. Hugging is one of them.) But I did hug my Mom's picture. Tight. And I don't care if it sounds crazy. But she hugged me back.

I decided to go to Ram Krishna Mission today. Wore my mom's red chiffon saree. (My blouse didn't fit...so I wore a shirt instead. My cook draped the saree for me and she was most aghast at the misappropriation of attire. Oh well... can't please them all.) 

When I was growing up, we used to visit Ram Krishna Mission very often. My father had studied in Ram Krishna Mission in Belur matth near Kolkata. 

The Mission in Khar is small and simple. They have a large hall where they have book exhibitions. I had read a small booklet on Karma yoga as a child and had a huge crush on Swami Vivekananda then (whose birthday it was today as well). I went to their meditation space and sat down. 

I thought about my parent's marriage. It was not a perfect one. But I don't know if I have seen love stronger than what they shared. To keep commitment simple, deep, and forever... that's not even love. It's character. It's the penultimate rung of education. And it's just the sort of thing human beings capable of having respect for self and each other do. To infuse a certain dignity and nobility in quotidian relationships.

Sometimes I wonder why I didn't have that. They say that kids who come from broken homes can't have strong relationships. That's not true. I came from a very strong home. But I can't have strong relationships either. I am not sad about it. Curious though. 

I reached home. Met my neighbour. Aunty and I will possibly be going out for coffee tomorrow. That should be fun. 

I called V. It's not like him to respond on short notice...the celebrity status that he maintains. But he did come over. 

There's something steady and scary about him. When I am with him, I feel like one of those trekkers who leans against a very rocky mountain and goes to sleep. There is comfort, sure. There is support, definitely. There is also the dangerous tendency (on part of the trekker) to start expecting the mountain to soften for you...to make it easier for you to climb. It's strange...with the way he smiles or points to a flat close-by or talks about fruits in a market... it's strange how 'present' or 'now' he can be, and yet one can sense the footnote of a farewell. That's the fine print I have begun to recognise. (And appreciate.) 

Maybe that's the chief appeal of 'Ciao', a salutation that means both hello and goodbye. 

Another day

 Had a really good walk today. I took a turn near Rizvi college and spotted a group of people dressed in the most stylish athleisure I have seen in a while.

One man was in a white hoodie, dove-grey joggers and neon-yellow kicks. I liked the length of his hoodie. It was slightly cropped but the guy had a well-proportioned torso. He wore it well.

There was another guy who looked suave... I know it's a strange term to use for people who are sweating it out...but he looked mighty stylish in a pale lavender t-shirt that had an interesting gravelly print on it. (I would wear something like that.) He had paired it with tracks in an unusual shade of French Navy. It's not very often that one sees that shade in India, much less on sportswear. It's a fresh twist to regular shades of blue. But the best part of his attire was a fanny pack that was embroidered with fruits and birds. It looked lovely! 

The girl in the group had a pretty neon-green ensemble with a dainty line of diamontes running vertically in the centre of her t-shirt and jacket. That little bit of detailing really elevated her look from marathon to martini, if you know what I mean. She had slick, glossy hair and was wearing flip-flops with a little bit of heel and tiny daisies stuck on the straps. 

I liked this group. They were chatting and having coconut water. They looked like they took joy in what they wore, that they picked out their stuff with thought and care. 

Just look at what Carter Road looks like. Who wouldn't want to be dressed for it?

Wazah

 Something was playing on my mind today. It was a good day. Can't complain. My cook didn't seem too happy today. She is worried about her kids. They are unemployed and they don't want to do housework because they feel it's a step down.I had asked to meet with her daughter. Her daughter had apparently worked in an office. But my cook is not very forthcoming.

I was not feeling too nice so V took me to Bandstand to watch the sunset. Today he told me about rust on boats and how one cleaned them. We sat at our favourite spot and had coffee and boost. Sometimes I wish I had a month or so to just meet him for a few hours everyday and simply hang out. Walk around with no agenda, go sit at Worli seaface or Juhu. I mean...I don't mind spending the downtime alone either. Which I most likely will because V makes too much of a fuss being out in the heat. For someone who grew up in Bombay, he has such a problem with heat and humidity. It's laughable.

Anyway we came home and I made a quick cup of tea before sitting down for a call. He was getting ready to leave anyway. Then the call got delayed. So I decided to wear my gold dress and tall black boots to convince V to go out to a nice place someday. I think the black and the gold scared him a little bit. He mentioned quite a few times that maybe Bombay was not the place to wear it, where is the AC going to be strong enough, etc. etc. I think he was just going to get embarassed walking next to me. But I am going to wear my boots and gold dress before it's too late.

I had worn shorts and a cotton tee today to Bandstand and I wasn't really cold. It will soon be hot. That gold dress and those black boots will have to be relegated to the back of the cupboard until eternity then. 

Hmm. So what should I do?

Anyway, I had weighty issues on my mind in the morning. We have progressed to figuring out wardrobe. Not too shabby. 

A few pictures, a few words

This is the lazy kitty, one of several, sleeping outside the laptop store. The cats in Bandra are so fat! 

My school! Unlike my brother's posh school (which had Naseeruddin Shah's children and kids of a ton of celebrities), mine was a humble one. I still remember the day when my brother came home from school to tell Ma that he had swimming classes next week onwards. They would be going to Otters Club! It was the same day I had drawn a pool in Art class. That's the closest my school got to those amenities. :-) Sweet times though.

'Title Waves' (isn't it a cute name for a bookstore?) is opposite my school. It wasn't there when I was growing up. In fact, I think we had a few hutments opposite the school. A couple of kids from those places came to our school.

I used to visit this library in my ninth and tenth grade. My closest friend, R, had recommended it to me. I discovered Barbara Cartland here.

This spot also opened much later. It was called 'Just around the corner'. They had the best (and also the first) salad bars and sandwich counters in the suburbs. But I think it wasn't doing too well because people wouldn't come there thinking it was only a gym. (The name didn't indicate an eatery. And I am only speculating here.) So they changed it. I think the original name was much better, though.

It has become really swanky inside!

Black coffee with hazelnut syrup in cutlery the colour of snow. Ah!

Picked this up at Title Waves. Seems interesting. Got started on it while sipping coffee.

Me. Really really REALLY missing Goa, hammock, a lazy or crazy sea, and peace! Ah, Goa. Even in its absence, it makes me smile.

Last day of the first month of the year that's entrusted to soothe it all

The day began really early with a text from Papa. He had left his charger at my place. So I cabbed it to Vashi around 6:15 in the morning. It was a swift, beautiful ride. Took me only 35 to 40 minutes to reach and approximately the same amount of time to return.

I think one of the projects that I really had my heart set on...and I had worked so earnestly on it...I think that my role in that project is off done. I felt sad. I do believe that at some point the project will resurrect in a different avatar maybe. I won't be a part of it. But I suppose one takes heart from the fact that the project will always remain a part of me.

Then V came home in the evening. I had lit up tealights and we were chatting about this and that. I wonder if it says something about our lives and our personalities that in environments such as this, V prefers looking the citylights and I prefer the candle flames but in time, we both settle in on the dark night sky. Something to be said for absence of light then...darkness as the true common denominator.

Today he told me stories of snakes and snake-bites, especially the Russell viper. The venom can start rotting the flesh very quickly, apparently. Interestingly, a quick first aid is that if one gets bitten, one takes a country chicken and applies its backside to the bite. (The chicken's rear convulses and sucks out the poison giving one enough time to save yourself. The chicken dies of course.) Then he told me of another snake that bites only when one is asleep. You don't feel the bite until its morning. 

I have always been fascinated by snakes. I especially love the way the way they shed skins and slither away quickly. Not needing legs for speed is quite phenomenal. 

Once V was in a village where he and his friends were clearing off leaves from around the place where they were staying. While chatting, a villager told him that when a snake passes through, it leaves behind a scent the other snakes picks up on. The other snakes know that a snake has been in the area but they aren't sure whether that snake is more or less powerful than them. They don't know if they are entering the zone of a predator. So it's likely that they will stay away.

On the face of it, these stories seem so far removed from city life. But you scratch the surface and you see that this checks and balances for survival and dominion is the exact thing an urban landscape is fashioned on.

Welcome to Mumbai.