Bagel

 Today Dad and I had whole-wheat bagels from Bagel Shop and a mushroom soup thickened with coconut milk. It tasted like a stew.

I never quite liked bagels but the whole-wheat ones tasted quite nice. They are quite filling.

Today I watched a little bit from the movie, Haasil. I think Irrfan Khan was one of the greatest. I never realised how good he was earlier. But now I realise why his performances are so good...there is a quiet dignity and understated excellence about his work. It's reflective.

Tomorrow is another day.

Today pretty much feels wasted. 

Midweek

 My very first job was direct sales. There we used to refer to Wednesday the 'Humpy Wednesday' because it broke up the work week into two. 

But it's not Humpy at all. It's sickening. Came across this bit of news that Barkha Dutt's father passed away due to Covid. And she did one of her shows a couple of days after she cremated her dad. Sometimes so much of our living is on autopilot. The way we reach out for work like it's comfort food.

I remember last year, during the pandemic, Yogi Adityanath's father passed away too. I don't think his demise was Covid-related. But I remember thinking that it must have been really tough for him. 

Loss of a parent is never easy for anyone am sure. But losing a parent when you're single... it's not harder for you. But you hope that in his or her final moments, your mum and dad didn't worry about how you would survive without spouse or kids. (As it turns out, living is done one breath at a time irrespective of marital status. So nothing horrible there.)

Maybe since he was a Yogi, Adityanath's father was accustomed to his renunciation. I wonder what it must have been for Barkha's father. But he did raise a fierce daughter. Perhaps he took comfort in that. 

I know my mom used to be very worried about me not having a house of my own. She could never understand why I would choose to live on rent. 

Well, she did get her wish. I am living in our home now. 

Sometimes I miss the look and feel of a rent deed though. Maybe I will draw one up for myself. I am the landlady. And I am the tenant. Yep. No time like the present to get omniscient. 

First Impressions: Wanderlust (on Netflix)

 Wanderlust has Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd and is possibly the most avoidable film ever. And it's not because you can't get past the Friends hangover. Although with the umpteenth rom-com, both Anisto and Rudd seem to be reprising the other Friends characters. In a movie where Aniston is a perfectionist, you immediately think of Monica. Where she has a job, you think of Chandler. Where her partner turns gay, you are reminded of Ross and in this movie, where she plays a free-spirited artist who can''t hold down a job and joins a commune with her husband (Rudd), you of course, think of Phoebe.

Aniston and Rudd are a couple in New York who have decided to buy a house. They can afford a really small one. The broker sells it to them as  a micro-loft whereas it really is a studio apartment. Rudd loses his job, quits a subsequent job with his obnoxious brother, and the couple then move into a commune because (for some very inexplicable reason) is their only choice.

It is such a dreary, tired formulaic film. It really is tedious. Hollywood's notion of what vegetarianism is or a shamanic ritual is or what 'Namaste' means (basically an invitation for 'free love') is the stuff stereotyping is made of. 

I guess it comes together towards the end - because one does (and always feel fondly) for our very own Rachel and Mike. But it is quite bottom of the barrel.

A good day

 Today I returned the advance money I had taken for a couple of projects that my heart was just not in. I felt instantly better. I tried and successfully walked up 8 floors after said refund. One of the things that I am very grateful for is being able to not take the money for days I have not worked or for projects that I found really biring. Am not a millionaire or anything but I would rather lose out on money from projects that warmed my heart than earn from those that left me cold. This is not just honour or anything. I am very sensitive about the energy with which I earn money. If I do not feel I deserve it, I fall sick. Of course, as a counterpoint, I am looking for ways to sue a company that really made my life hell for so many months. 

PG had visited me today and it felt so so good! I felt a little normal after a long while.

Papa is coming tomorrow (fingers crossed) and I can't wait! It will be a lot of fun, I think. If not fun, it will be a lot of relief. I will have him in front of my eyes and that's good. Now that I think about it, he didn't sound so eager to be watched over too closely. But coexistence requires rules and he will just have to put up with my constant monitoring. Unlike my brother who always looks for a way to get out of the house, I have been living quite well as a hermit. 

I suppose I can be a scary figure. 

Anyway, yay for tomorrow! 

Now, it is sickening

 The body ache is too much! It is really too much. It feels as if I have worked out a lot and I haven't. Well, I did do some stretches the other day after a long while but...

It's interesting just what all is aching. My eyelids are. It's strange but they actually are. And my breasts are so sore. It's horrible! The other day I was watching a series where this girl's mom dies of breast cancer and she also has the same mutation gene so she is also susceptible. So she goes for check-ups and all that and it gets too tedious for her. So she decides to get a double mastectomy done. In the series - which is really glossy - this portion felt a little gritty. She was not able to lift her hands, her new breasts were sore, etc. Maybe that got inside me - this could be my story. Except that life without medical insurance takes a different turn. 

Anyway, even the sleep feels as if I am buried somewhere - somewhere nice though. It's pink, candy-flossed, and laced with arsenic (I had LOVED that Cary Grant film - Arsenic and Old Lace). 

But the sun is shining, the birds are flying, and the sky is blue-ing. 

There's great solace in this. 

City in a bar

 Early summer evenings.

The sun is bright and mellow. 

There's a very delicate outline of a moon in the sky.

The light glows, gleams, shines, rubs off, melts and melds onto various buildings and the humble wall outside my house that I stare at.

The city that I see reclining on my bean bag - skewed tops of buildings, a croocked sky, a planter that looks giant-sized from my vantage point...they remind me of liquorsin large cutglass bottles. 

One of them is a fresh, light white wine.

Another is a robust, tasty Sambuca.

Another is a fun and flirty Beetlejuice liqueur.

Bandra says cheers! 

A vignette in three pictures

 

Unwell

 Not feeling too good.

Or good at all actually.

Sleep has been really surreal. 

Body is paining really badly. 

Throat hurts.

Fingers and feet seem like they are on pins and needles.

My dark circles look as if my pupil melted and trickled down my eye. So black.

And for some really strange reason, my lips seem swollen. Like surgery-type swollen. 

Oxymeter is not available anywhere close to my house, interestingly. Although this doesn't feel like the big C. 

Everything should get better soon.

Sweet little walk

 Today, R and I had stepped out at around 5 to check if we could get anything. We were down to very few rations and I was feeling a very special type of suffocation that this pandemic has brought on. 

The weather was beautiful. The sunlight was butter and honey. While walking up Pali Hill, I saw a large-ish patio of a flat in a dilapidated building. It seemed to be overrun by all the potted plants and creepers. There were tons of large, round danglers that seemed to be made of mother-of-pearl...they had that sort of luster. The walls had such pretty knick-knacks. R told me that the patio seemed to belong to world travelers who brought back pretty things to decorate their place with.

R and I were in luck. All the grocery stores were closed or were only doing home deliveries. But one told us to separate, move to the opposite side of the road, stand by the gate, etc. And then the shopkeeper came out, furtively looked side to side to check if there were any cops, and gave us our sugar and two bottles of Chinese sauces. It was all quite exciting.

On the way back, we also got two coconuts and I spotted a beautiful tree with pale lavender-mauve blooms. It was so gorgeous! 

In the building, R and I sat for a few minutes in the patio. It is really tiny, has a few swings, and has a kitschy mix of plastic and real plants. The walls and pillars are painted with monkeys and birds. I like it. It's a charming little spot to just sit and gather your wits together.

I am sitting with hot coffee now and typing this. It was a good day.

Not quite done for the day so...

 Today I ate masala puris, aaloo mutter, and aata halwa. I love puris. I also love chhole bhature. I told J that I will see her in July and we will eat deep-friend stuff every day. I hope that is still a thing in South Delhi where I have encountered horrors such as sugar-free moong daal halwa and air-fried bread pakodas. This is why no one trusts people in South Delhi - they really do take the joy out of everything. And by joy, I mean grease. The finger tips must shine and gleam with unabsorbed oil. That's when you know something is well-made. 

I am having a cup of black coffee now. I like it. I also like coffee with a splash of coconut milk. Also a bit of almond milk or a tablespoon of Milkmaid - condensed milk. In one of my trips to the US - I think this was when I was staying with my friend in Chicago - I came across cans of unsweetened condensed milk. I was horrified. I didn't even know that that could exist or why someone would get the unsweetened version. Milkmaid is really good! 

I would love to have some good vanilla ice-cream now. My favorite flavour is vanilla - French Vanilla if one is paying 4 times the regular amount...but I love vanilla. I love vanilla flavored anything. My mom used to LOVE chocobars. And she would only eat the top chocolate coating and give me the rest. She wouldn''t order a chocolate ice-cream. She would order chocobar which ic basically a vanilla ice-cream dipped and coated with chocolate. But that's what she liked.

I feel my moneyplant is getting a life of its own. I mean, it is a living thing so it does have a life of its own. But now it is turning away towards the window and ignoring me. It's behaving like an adoloscent. 

Scratch posts

 I am typing out this series because I have to work on an email but it's not coming easy.

I am also trying to process (or shut out) a snarky comment from a client to get a schedule to start work for her. I don't blame her. She has been patient with me. But things have not fallen into place so far. One lives in hope. 

Okay, so the first bit of stuff to get off the top of my head - I was sitting by my window early today morning. It was beautiful and cloudy. I could hear koyals and some other bird that sounded like a thrush. I saw two parrots flying about. They sat on one part of a wire. Then they were hopping to the other side when one of them seemed to realize that they had wings. So they took off to the other side. The mornings are filled with so much birdsong that the crows are actually the quietest. Who knew? I see them sitting around, pontificating here and there. I never thought I would say this but I miss the cawing of crows. It reminds me of a simpler, more normal time. 

R had gone off to the market to buy some veggies. I was supposed to go too but I stayed back to finish the first draft of the email that I have to revise. There's another little morselled piece of work that I need to get through. Tomorrow maybe.

Okay. I will end this here for now. Will resume later.

**************************

I finished the second email draft. 

While typing, procrastinating, and getting back to work, I realised just what is at the core of the pain and despair I feel. I will just articulate and accept it straight up now: I want my mother back. 

That's it. And I don't think it's impossible either. Death is no reason why two people should actually be apart. I mean life hasn't proven to be a strong reason for people to be together. I want my mother back. All that meditation and journaling and working and giving up working and leaving home and returning home... nothing has helped. I want her back. It's that simple. I don't know why I fought that for so long. Maybe J is right that I always fight something when it's simple. Maybe. But I have clarity now. I would like to be with my mother. 

Just have to work out a plan. If I reject everything that is accepted and knowable about the current world, it should be okay.

**************************

Some pretty pictures of a world that does seem to breathe out poems.

Whatever it holds

 This little clay pot held creamy phirni yesterday and today, it holds some ghee, a wick, and a flame.

There's a lesson in this for me somewhere.

The 'Stuck'ness

 A while ago, I was stuck outside my house because I had jammed the wrong key inside the keyhole. 

I could not get the key to move, open the lock (obviously), or come out. I jiggled the key this way and that and nothing happened. All this while, the right key dangled from the keychain. It wasn't lost or stolen or forgotten in the back seat of a cab. It was right there. Yet, the wrong key refused to budge. And I was stuck outside.

The only solution was to dismantle the lock, remove it completely, open it up, and take the key out.

This is how the last few days, weeks, or months have been feeling. I feel stuck. Clearly there's something wrong. I don't know if it is a neurological problem or what. But there's something wrong. I definitely need some kind of a psychological reset. I sense that the right stuff - whatever this right stuff is - is right there in front of me or in me but for now, it seems to be hidden in plain sight. 

And I am stuck. Outside my 'home' - whatever and wherever it might be. 

You

To take a block of life and grate it into something somewhat poetic is how I get through when it all gets too much.

And it is all getting too much.

Happy birthday, Ma!

A call, a post that was, and Sex and the City types

 Today was a strange Sunday.

Didn't do much. Just bracing myself for the week that will be coming up. Was supposed to meet V which didn't happen. Slept. Bright afternoon sun on my face as I napped in my curtain-less bedroom. 

Woke up. Talked to J. We spoke about the situation in Delhi. I really want to go there. I love summers in Delhi...the smell of melons and flowers. 

Slept again. Ate. Procrastinated. Turned down a client because I found him irritating.

Then Jayegee pinged. She's a friend from long ago and now, in a really far away place. She asked if we could talk. I got so excited that I immediately went for a bath and got tidied up. 

It was so great talking to her. So comforting and nourishing. Today at home I was feeling the burden of a certain sense of ennui...and I also felt that this feeling is not going away anytime soon. I think I am done with wanting things to be different. This is it I suppose and I am good with it. 

A neighbour came over. Uncle told me that he started feeling his age after he turned 80. He is 87 now. He is such a good, sweet soul. 

Anyway, I spoke to Jaygee and it felt as if something deep and parched inside me got watered. 

I am watching this series on Netflix, "The Bold Type" which is yet another variant of Sex and the City but with millennials. So far, it's the equivalent of eating chips (which I did - soaked in tangy chilled Kombucha. So yummy that I will have this combo patented.) The series is not crackling but after talking to Jaygee, I realised why I like shows of groups of girls navigating life together. I realised why I loved Sex and the City as well...not so much about the NYC life, the romance of writing and documenting your days as they pass on, or the fashion - all of them are hefty, worthy reasons. But I loved the show because I hadn't seen anything that showed strong female friendships among strong women. And I have experienced that all my life. If I miss anything now, it's not having a female friend to go visit or have someone come over. For some reason, female friendships are so misunderstood. I know so many men who believe that two beautiful women can't be friends. Or women talk. Or they can't keep secrets. Or they will not be happy for a friend. I have never had the SATC life but if I have ever gotten the strength and courage to get through a rough patch, it's because of my women friends. 

Jaygee and I worked together nearly 15 years ago. We would travel by the office bus and she introduced me to a lot of gourmet stuff in Bombay. We went for plays together. She was there for me in Delhi when my marriage was breaking. She was there for me when I moved to Bombay and helped me get a writing gig with HT Cafe where I wrote, ironically, about relationships. 

Speaking to her today reminded me of just how much we have lived through...

It's special. A good, solid friendship is special. One must make it one's life's job to keep those equations in life.

They get you through a lot maybe because they remind you of just how much you got through.

Caved

 Returned home to Bandra.

Spent some time with my brother and sister-in-law. Watched a few videos. Warmed up a bowl of rice and daal, had a couple of Kombuchas, and picked up reading my novel again. Then slept off. I could hear ambulances hurrying past at night.

To have a little space to retreat into is a very deep privilege. Am very grateful for this.

A day, a day, a day

 A list of 5 things that I am grateful today:

1. Father seemed to have more energy today.

2. Had really tasty food today. 

3. Enjoyed the snippets of Shark Tank on YouTube.

4. Cab ride through BKC was pretty and peaceful. The flowers are gorgeous. The leaves are green with a vengeance. It is awesome to have such lush life break through.

5. R told me about some interesting fishing stories. She said that they catch these small river fish and bring them home when they are still alive. Then they kill them using their hands. Apparently using metal to hack the fish spoils the taste. Then they run the fish in the sand to clean it and remove the scales. After they remove the git, etc., they then wrap the fish in different kinds of leaves of some local plants. These are roasted crisp in mustard oil and had with rice.

6. My dinner was simple but really tasty. Hot rice cooked with a little extra water (I like the rice to be really soft and squishy), a pat of butter, plain boiled daal and hot fried potatoes with a couple of chillies. 

7. Have a house, family is alive (if not too well), there's food on the table (good food that too), running water, and some money in the bank to provide help to a stranger if needed. (An invoice got cleared today).

I overshot with the stuff I am grateful for today. It's a good thing!

Heavy heart

 Am not feeling too good with a lot that has transpired since the last two days. Especially not after being stopped by cop on Pali Hill now and being told to return home just when I was going to buy chilled Diet Coke. Anyway, I had ordered Kombucha earlier today so I have that. 

Anyway, let me list ten things that were nice today:

1. My cook made very tasty palak daal and cubed crispy potato.

2. Slept okay in the afternoon.

3. Dad is feeling better.

4. The sky was beautiful. Early evening I saw three kites flying very close to each other and they look like they were being moving to music.

5. Spoke to J who told me about this series 'The Equaliser'. It has Denzel Washington which should be good.

6. I have a house, running water, electricity, and coffee to last me 3 days.

7. My new shoes have arrived (some of them) and the black Lee Cooper ones are awesome! So awesome that I want to wear them and position the camera on my feet during Zoom calls.

8. Saw a really beautiful woman and a very goodlooking man running up Pali Hill. They could be part of a Shutterstock videoclip.

9. Listened to music from Manmarziyaan again. What an album! I love it.

10. Provincial, the place I had ordered Kombucha from, sent a complimentary cup of hot chocolate. I am not a fan but when you are out of phirni, hot choc can make you feel loved.

2021

 I pronounce you dead.

Rather you are dead to me. 

Things falling apart

Pema Chodron said the following thing...and I suspect she said it after having the kind of days I have been having since the last few days:

"Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing.  We think the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved.  They come together and they fall apart.  Then they come together again and fall apart again.  It’s just like that.  The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen:  room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”

Since yesterday, things are just splintering around me. I woke up really early to finish a job that I had slipped by me. And I was emotionally exhausted. I was tired and parched and thirsty. In times like this, I always call J. She is so good at calming me down, getting me to climb down from a mental parapet, so to speak. I was able to pull myself together and complete a job with as much a clean slate as possible. Then there was a call from Dad and it's looking difficult. There's a lockdown in Bombay again. That familiar knot of nausea and panic was getting created again.

Then V came with phirni and...what really touched me was the coffee he made me. It was so nice and thoughtful and he does have some crazy skill-sets in the kitchen (which he will update you about). So the coffee was tasty and felt so good! Then he told me stories of his time at sea. And that's such a joy.

I really am so grateful for having friendships that nourish me! 

There will be much to tackle tomorrow. Got through today.

(This is the happy coffee I had. Good coffee really is a strong, supportive pal. I don't know what I would do without it.)

A day like that, a night like this

Birdsong and traffic

And an ordinary day

Chaos and jitters

And a crazy, crooked way

For cracks to widen

And things to slip through

Losing trinkets and time

Until I finally discover you.

(On crazy days, one is glad for fairy lights.)

A mixed bag

I finally managed to finish one assignment today. That was good. It was difficult at first. Projects that have been left alone for too long start having this stench of staleness. And then I have to really clear my deck completely to immerse myself in the project again. 

But I was happy with the work I did. And the feeling of a job well done is still one of the most luscious feelings in my life.

I felt bad for all my uncharitable thoughts related to the family. Sure they are difficult but they are all I have. I didn't realise how much of this experience was buffered by Ma. But one has to own up and show up. If I have to see things from their perspective, it's not like they won the family member lottery with me. I am sure they would like someone more amiable and cheerful in company. 

Dear God, give me the strength and peace and hormones necessary for coexistence.  

First Impressions: Dear White People (Netflix)

 George Orwell's Animal Farm on a campus - in a kinda, sorta, slightly stretched sort of way.

'Dear White People' is about racism in an elite Ivy League college, Winchester, that does the token lip-service to diversity, inclusion, pluralism, etc. It centers around a radio show called 'Dear White People' hosted by Samantha White. Sam, as she's called. is a biracial college student who calls out the intrinsic bias of her college mates by explaining acceptable and non-acceptable behavior towards Blacks. We see her journey navigating this petridish of prejudice with her friends, through her conflict of belittle entitled white male yet getting really close to one of them, not extending the same 'sisterhood' to her friend Colandrea for making decisions different from hers, and other teenage angst - the sort that comes from being 'woke'. But can any movement or ideology be completely inoculated against power dynamics amongst its own believers? 

No.

So we see the drama play out where people are so exhausted with just raging against the system that they start letting things slide, there is no unity, they themselves are criticized for what they stand against, etc. Overall I liked it but I did think that the writing was stronger in the first two episodes. The last episode did tackle a very interesting question of whether technology is really 'neutral'. If there is no Black representation amongst the VCs in Silicon Valley, can a start-up culture be tilted against a demographic? 

In India, there is such a furor against any kind of reservation - gender-based, caste-based, region-based, etc. We often question whether reservation dilutes meritocracy. Should people be included in groups only as token representation? How much is too much? If you do happen to be part of the entitled' group, how long should you go through life apologizing for your historical privilege? And is it fair that your voice be silenced then? 

This show is sufficiently far removed for many of us to reflect on the questions without getting triggered, I feel. I particularly did not like Sam's character. I loved Colandrea, though. For those who have seen 'Hazaaron Khwaishein aisi', Sam reminded me of Kay Kay Menon (although she wasn't as spineless as him) and Colandrea reminded me of Shiney Ahuja - a character who understands the real practicality of just how immensely the system is weighted against you So you join it and play it to your advantage. 

That seems to take the smarts and guts that matter.

Good watch. 

Keeping up with keeping up

 I had planned to finish work today and yet again it didn't happen. It's beginning to feel chronic. It's quite difficult to get some of my father's medicines. Went to 4 medical shops here today and managed to get 40 percent of his prescription.

I think I am losing a lot of energy feeling resentful. If I need anything stocked in the house, I have to do it. If my father's medicines are going out of stock, I have to arrange for it. If I want coffee, then I must get the coffee powder, the sugar and milk...and make it myself. Because I can see my cook getting overworked, I wash the dishes sometimes and make her toast and chai. I really feel as if my brother doesn't do anything. And it's not as if I have anything less to do with managing Bandra. It's one thing to have to take care of everything when you are by yourself. And quite another when you are living with someone and still somehow it is ALWAYS your responsibility.

This is what sucks my energy. If you don't have a husband, children, pets, or a job then you apparently have ALL the time and cash in the world to invest in whichever household you find yourself in. This is getting really exhausting...to have to constantly earn your place in an environment.

You can't afford to take a day off, make a lapse in judgement, afford to spend a little extra cash somewhere else...all because you have to get the groceries, pay the bills, arrange for help, and tend to a VERY stubborn patient. Why? Because I am not married and I don't have kids and I freelance. So clearly, I don't have 'obligations'. 

It's so frustrating that as an act of defiance, I bought a lot of shoes online.  

At this rate, I am not going to have any energy to finish my projects and lose whatever good client base I am building now. 

Anyway, I have to figure out some way to tackle this. Otherwise I am going to fall sick. And it is very apparent that I am really low in the social hierarchy to warrant any medical intervention on priority.

Deep breaths. Really deep breaths. 

So...

 I reached Vashi and I didn't think I would make it in time. After 7 Ola cabs had cancelled because they wouldn't accept Ola money, I finally got one. He was a young chipper who made such a face when I sat in and unpacked a phirni to eat it. I asked him if he had a problem if I ate in his cab. He asked me if I could do it without pulling down my mask. Sheesh! These millennials and their sarcasm. Anyway, I dropped the phirni when I got out of the cab and it was a small devastation in my already weary heart. But seeing gorgeous large guavas on our tree helped along the healing process.

This shuttling between Bandra and Vashi is getting so hassling. I hate packing and unpacking and leaving things here and searching for stuff there. I really need a personal assistant. Someone to go and pick up stuff from the laundry, organize my cupboards, tackle groceries, manage my calendar, scout for good tailors, print and scan invoices, set up meetings, etc. I expend way too much precious energy doing all these things. 

Okay, if all this is too much then just someone to help me pack. There should be such a concierge service in Urban Company. 

Anyway, had to do a lot of follow-ups and calls and didn't actually finish what I was supposed to. Maybe tonight.

Or tomorrow morning.

There's always the next day. And it always comes. 

I had my season's very first mango. It was SO good!

There will be mangoes throughout the weekend. Suddenly, there's so much joy! 

Things I am grateful for today

 1. It was cloudy - lush and peaceful and the turmeric yellowness of some flowers spilled out like a teenager's secrets in a chat room. It was gorgeous.

2. Buying fruits and veggies at the Hill Road bazaar with V. It is such a joyful, delightful place. I didn't go to the fish market today. (I don't eat fish anymore but I love fish markets) and I bought a ton of stuff. V was quite patient. I had expected him to crib and complain because he doesn't like the heat. I love it though. The sun is our friend and summer is life. Anyway, he was surprisingly easy at the market. He did get all difficult once we reached home but well...one puts up with some behavior if they introduce you to fresh fruit and vegetable-sellers and are kind enough to manage the cash for you in a crowded bazaar.

3. My FAVORITE part of today was walking up the slope of my friend's building after maybe 20 years. 20 years. A lifetime ago. No. A life ago. The building is broken down now. As I walked up, I suddenly couldn't recollect when my friend had left the building, did we even say goodbye...but it was lovely. All those memories from all those years ago. She and I would meet to go for walks up Pali Hill early in the morning. I would go for French tuitions there. There would be boys with some notoriety hanging around. It just occurred to me that I don't have any girl friends in Bandra anymore. I don't have friends in Bandra anymore, except for V. But he is a man. Nothing wrong with that of course. And friendship is friendship - wherever it comes from and I am really happy to have V to hang out with. But a girl's friendship is sweet and nourishing like summer rain. One misses it when one doesn't have it. 

(I still can't believe that walking up the slope of that building today. Felt good. It would be nice to go there in the middle of the night sometime.)

4. V also grew up in that building so he seemed to know of spots and crannies around. He plucked some very sweet berries from a tree. They were tender, soft and juicy. He gave me a handful which I savored under my mask as I went to the tailor to collect my clothes. 

5. Spoke to J. It's always great jo to talk to her and I learn about the most random, useless things. But it's always a mood lifter. Anyway she was sleepy. She said it's because she wakes up early in the morning nowadays. But I suspect she is watching something stodgy and boring on Netflix. I have to admit that she had recommended 'How to get away with murder' which I loved. But all these pirate and Viking shows I can't follow. And I sincerely, until today, don't get the plot of Fast and Furious and the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek. But she had recommended 'Outander'. It does seem interesting. Maybe I will watch that next.

It's amazing - I got very little done from my to-do list but it was still a full day and it has ended and the time is marching on. It amazes me just how little regard the great big forces have for my task-list.

Onwards to tomorrow.

Back to Basics

The fatigue is not because there's a lot. But because there's a lot of the same stuff, there's a lot of uncertainty, there's a lot of expectation, etc. etc.

Anyway, looks like work is going to be picking up soon in this gorgeous setting of lockdown/ no-lockdown game. Important to get back to basics. May as well keep a list handy of what to focus on:

1. Keep expectations minimal.

2. Make a to-do list the night before.

3. Focus on strengthening focus.

4. Rest with eyes closed. Netflix is not rest.

5. Meditate without agenda...not peace or nirvana or whatever. Meditate to just hang out with who matters.

6. Talk to as few people as possible.

7. Begin the day early, preferably before the cleaning help comes in. 

8. Work on point number 1. Rigorously.

Not feeling so good

 It's all feeling quite meaningless. I am a little hazy about the story of Sisiphus (is that how you spell his name?) That Greek myth of this king Sisiphus who is cursed to roll up a huge rock up the mountain only for it to roll back down. And this goes on for all eternity. 

It's late and I am tired so I will make a quick list of some good stuff that happened today.

1. Formally got out of a project. It felt like the right thing to do because it felt hard. Someday maybe I will write about this experience of one of my worthy failures in a Pune project. But it's one that taught me that sometimes your own passion for a project could be hurting it badly. Anyway, goodbyes were said, done and dusted. It's out.

2. Worked on a short assignment today and it went well.

3. The soundtrack of Dear White People is so good! I have never liked rap or house or trance (I realise they are all different genres but I don't quite follow anything with men in large cars, thick goldchains, rundown houses but caviar-priced sneakers). But Dear White People has some gems. I absolutely loved this: https://youtu.be/szdyKpSnWyw

4. Returned to Bandra this morning. Even though I left post 8 am, I reached in 43 minutes.

5. The electricity bill wasn't as monstrous as I had imagined it to be. 

That's it for now. 

First Impressions: Champions (Netflix)

 There is a certain category of light, fluffy, feel-good sentimental films or videos that you can watch when tending to an ailing parent or waiting for a couple of hours for a late-night call. It can't be too light and insubstantial to make you feel like you've wasted your life. It can't be so heavy that it requires anguished involvement. 

'Champions' hits that Goldilocks spot. 

It is the story of two brothers who barely keep a run-down gym afloat in New York. One brother had a promising past as a footballer but life happened. His extremely good-looking but undouchebag brother was too slow to graduate high-school and has a deep, unsettling attachment with his older brother. One day, these guys find out that the older brother had a son  15-years ago with an Indian woman (Mindy Kaling) in college. The off-spring is a 15-year old gay boy who grew up in Cleveland ('mistake by lake' as the city is referred to in the series) and has aspirations to write a musical and become famous on Broadway. 

He has to move in with a very reluctant dad and a very affectionate uncle due to circumstances. And how they all settle in is what the series is about.

This is such a charming, delightful little watch. I suppose the show is similar to practically every similar show of reluctant dad-son bonding storyin broad strokes. Nothing is wholly unpredictable. But it is precisely this comfort that is delicious. And the cast and the dialogues. The writing is sharp and funny (I'm actually smiling as I type this). The gym employs a motley group of characters as trainers, not one of who is actually fit to be a trainer, except for one, . There is a large lesbian who abuses and insults her clients into working out. There's an Italian guy who was friends with the owner (these men's father) and he only sits around in the cafeteria. There's a timid accountant with an irritating dog and a jerk of a boyfriend. There's an Indian diva who wants to host dubious vodka-launch parties. There's an African wannabe actor was wants to remake 'Jesus Christ Superstar' with Prophet Muhammad in the lead. They're all wonderful. 

There's Hasan Minaj in one of the episodes and he's the one I found a little sore in the ensemble. But the rest of the cast is solid. And that 15-year old Michael Patel - I doubt if I have enjoyed an insufferable teen on screen as much.

I was surprised that I enjoyed the show as much as I did. If you're looking for something to lighten the mood, this is a good show to pick.

April 3rd

 I am sufficiently deluded and self-centred to always be happy on my birthday. Maybe it is my fascination with death and ghosts and traversing the years to get to the final milestone and beyond is extremely appealing. I also like to think that my existence has touched and gladdened the lives of many. I have emails from several clients and other communications from friends and help of yore that contradict said assumption. But they don't matter.

My brother got me a pale pink kurta that's really pretty. I wanted to wear it today but the only place I was going to today was the diagnostic center to get a COVID test done. So this will have to wait.

R got me a cake (Appa means big sister in Oriya) and made me a vegan tiramisu without rum. There were flowers. Someone else sent me flowers and a cake with a card that read, "May your year be as fresh as your smile, your Anonymous Wellwisher". I don't know who that is but if it's my sparkling smile they have registered, it's certainly not a dentist.

Anyway, my father told me about a childhood memory of his ( and several of these seem to come flooding his mind considering he is in a room all day.

When he was three or four years old, he would go fishing with his uncle and cousins. They were a troop of eighteen children of various ages. My father, being a little one but with very sharp eyes, used to sit on a low bough of a tree and fish. The idea that no one thought it dangerous to let a child be on a tree near water unsupervised is beyond me but he really did grow up in a different time. 

Anyway, there seems to have been a hierarchy of sorts in the household regarding the use of baits of rods. The seniors had use of proper fishing rods with metal hooks and worms as baits. The others got handmade rods with ropes and water reeds to which little bobs of floats were tied. Their bait was interesting. They would roast fenugreek (methi) until it got really fragrant. Then they would spread cooked rice on a large plate and add these methi seeds to that. Then they would make balls of this rice mixture and throw these balls in the water. The smell was good so shoals of fish would swim towards these balls and even the amateur fishermen amongst them (basically four year old kids) could catch them. Then my father told me that in the early evenings, his uncles would go on shikaar or hunt down large birds and cook them on stone. 

His face seemed happy thinking of those times.

Anyway, I gave his medicines and left only to check an hour later and find that he hadn't taken them. I was so pissed and I wish someone up there will give me a medal, a HUGE GOLD MEDAL for all the irritation I am swallowing down. 

Testing my other limits of patience is R. She equates te following things with the equal amount of urgency - rise in Dad's temperature, running out of medicine, not finding the right granular formation of aamchoor powder, not having change to give the dhobi...and for each of this, I am either woken up from sleep or pulled away from a bath or interrupted in the middle of a call.

I miss my empty space in Bandra. Heck, I miss it even if it has a ghost.

Anyway, one is coping. I remember what my friend Rahat had told me eons ago. "Sabar karo. Shukar karo." (Be patient. Be grateful.) 

Lesson to be applied, I guess.

Thus far

Dad has Covid.

Work has stalled.

Invoices are stuck.

I can't be in Bandra.

In a strange turn of events, I find myself in a large house without a room of my own.

Conference calls behind the kitchen.

And my birthday tomorrow.

Dear Universe, last year it was complete lockdown for my glorious birth anniversary where the only thing available in the market was spinach and potatoes. And this year, there is this smorgasbord of constraints.

That's cool, dear Universe. This video-game level weirdness every April 3rd will be our thing then. 

Let's see how it is

 The day began with my heart and stomach in a churn. I was very angry. And I am very angry now.

Anyway, I may as well list a few nice things - or if not nice, then things that did not make me want to torch the world.

1. The trip from Vashi to Bandra took only 35 minutes in the morning by Ola. This was around 6:30 a.m. The sun was rising and the world was quiet. There was no traffic and that new bridge that gets you into Bandra was like a smooth gulp of fine martini. There is a point where you are on top of that BKC bridge and you the tiny harp-like silhouette of the Bandra-Worli sea-link. You feel that there is such a large distance to traverse but there are connecting lines to help you through...and it's a good-looking journey, if nothing else.

2. I met V. That is always a lot of joy. Rather, it is usually a lot of joy. Matter of time before I get pissed with him as well. But he did get me phirni and lassi. I love phirni. That puts me in a sweet, benevolent mood. Of course, why he has to lace every gifting of phirni with his knowledge of torture tactics, I don't know. I'll park that aside for now.

3.The return trip to Vashi was also 35 minutes or so. This was fabulous because I left Banda at 4 and I thought I would encounter trouble. But no. Zippety zip.

4. I have running water, electricity, and food in both the houses. Very grateful for that.

5. I have a family. Always seem to forget about them. But sometimes when I feel like a continent that broke off to float away, this family seems to be like the equally clueless landmass that followed it so we could all be together - a misshapen, wonky world.