That question, that answer, and possibly peace someday

My grandfather, mom's father, was a judge. He was also an ace chess player. When I studied law, I would sometimes call him up in Cuttack and ask him a few questions about what I was studying. If I prepared for a moot Court competition, I would go over my case details with him.

He was very strict code though. One night at dinner, he did not let me have dinner until I completed understand a particular part of the Civil Procedure Code.

When we played chess, he would flare up sometimes because I was not strategizing enough. Often he would tell me that to win a case, to arrive at truth or justice, and to trump at chess, you had to question, not guess. It's in the subject matter of the questions that a lot of success lies. Much later I came across this quote. I think it's by Voltaire or some French philosopher. "Judge a man by his questions, not his answers "

I think of this because today is Friday the 13th and my day didn't begin well. I had a conversation with someone who said something so cruel and went on and on about it. Or maybe it wasn't cruel. Maybe if the same thing was said to him, he wouldn't mind it. But, well, never mind. I wonder if something about me gives the impression to random strangers that it's acceptable to talk a certain way. Anyway, I don't have answers to any of that. But I felt like crap and I just stayed in bed for a major part of the day. Had two work calls...one with a client who was so vague that it was unclear whether he wanted copyediting or cake.

When I woke up, I noticed that I was clutching the bedsheet, the way I would clutch my mother's nightie when I would sleep next to her. It reminded me of one afternoon with Mom.

Her health had started failing and she had stopped eating. She had had a bad fall and was in pain. If any of us tried to move her or change her, she would cry out in pain. Sometimes she would get angry and scratch. And then throw away the food and go off to sleep like a baby. Later when she would wake up, she would feel very contrite and sad about how she had behaved. We would make her listen to some music and she would away a little bit and go to sleep.

One afternoon I sensed that she was not sleeping. This was around the time that she would sometimes not be able to remember something. The way Ma was sleeping, the way she looked, she reminded me of my grandfather.

I asked her if she was sleeping. I could see that she had heard me but wasn't replying because she thought that I would force her to eat something. Then I pressed her tiny, soft hands. She loved massages. She extended her hand a little. I don't know why I asked her that...but maybe because I thought of my grandfather and how he had always insisted on asking good questions. I asked her if Ma knew that she was loved.

She nodded. Strongly and surely. She said in a voice that was the clearest that I had heard in a long time. She said, "Yes, I know."

For the rest of the days here, I think I will be very sensitive about my mom. The pain is unbearable. But it's unbearable now in a predictable sort of way. So I suppose that is the first step to healing?

But I can't explain the deep peace and joy I find in this little incident. That at her weakest...at OUR weakest...my mother knew that each one of us loved her.

That is a good way to go.

Day 87 of 14,600

I have a theory of how to work with Time. I am tired and don't want to write about it now. But will do it soon.

Today just out of stubbornness, I decided to take my own time getting ready even though there were lots and lots of little things lined up.

I used a lavender shower gel, my soft lavender fluffy towel and took my time sitting in a patch of sunlight. Just. Sipping coffee. Looking around.

I would be unspooled soon. But it's practically become a happy little dance by now.

I will go now.

Light some candles. Make my coffee. Thank the night. Thank the day. They will pass and return soon anyway.

Day 86 of 14,600

Today I slept in. Woke up around 2 p.m. and then I finished some pending work.

I have started writing professional resumes and I really enjoy that. Anyway, after that, I felt really light so I lounged around some more and ordered a ton of food. Believe it or not, I have just discovered  Swiggy. It's super fun to just check out what all is on offer and all that.

Anyway, it's close to 11. As I haven't really cleaned the house yet, will do that after an hour. (Feeling stuffed.) Will also wash clothes and then nod off.

Let's see how it goes.

Day 81 of 14,600

Today is Indian Army Day.

Ola informed me of this when I stepped out in the brittle cold of a Bangalore night. I had to take a cab to traverse the short distance from the co-working space to my home. But there were no autos and I couldn't walk because I was feeling lazy.

I could not make it for lunch to my friend's home but I ate a lot of food from outside - a pack of chhole and vegetable rice from Faasos, a wrap from Faasos as well. It came with this chilly-garlic powder that was very tasty. I added it to my rice because that was bland. I went to CCD for a cappuccino with vanilla flavour and then at night, I got a Coke, a large fries, a Mexican Bean Salsa veg burder and a McAloo tikki burger from McDonald's.

I was planning to skip dinner but that is okay. I will work out extra tomorrow and revert to sparse eating tomorrow.

Today was one of those days where I had to attend meeting, finish one task, attend another call, and then had to tackle a large hunk of work. I felt exhausted - to the point of tears. It was not the sort of task you could do in an easy-breezy way, listening to music or something like that. You had to hunker down and do it.

And I did it.

I really think that I am getting stronger as a writer. The skill and talent I still have to evaluate but the unsexy but important aspects of just solidly finishing what I started - I do believe that I am getting better at that.

You know this is what amazes me - how we will irrevocably get better at whatever we do mindfully every day.

Today I think I burned a lot of calories getting out of my playsuit at work. I wore a white V-neck longsleeved tee from Benetton with a wide-legged black linen playsuit from And. It was a very chic outfit. However, the linen suit did not have any elastic so getting out of it to go and pee was quite a task. But no matter. On tough days, I like looking chic.

I came home and I lit some incense and lit a candle and put it out of my home. I love having this little ritual for my home.

There are two kinds of arriving, I feel. One is the grand finish at the end of the race - when you tear across the rope and claim victory. There is another kind which is quieter, more calm, and soothing. It's when you find yourself in a sweet, cozy spot - maybe a place you have lost your way to. It's not design. It's not direction. It is the result of a benign but lazy destiny.

That's what I feel when I boil some water in the kettle and light up my candles.

I feel that I have arrived.

Day 76 of 14,600

Tonight, I gave my mother a cup of strawberries and cream blended with a little powdered sugar and wild honey. That shade of pink when the cream gets infused with the strawberry red - I find that colour to be most uplifting.

When I was younger, in the early days as a research intern for a law website, my notions of career success were as follows:

1. I would own a personal laptop that I would call Lappie. (Those were early days and one didn't push one's imagination too much.) I would take Lappie to important meetings to fancy offices in Mahim, Colaba, Prabhadevi, and of course, NCPA. Clients would discuss work and I would take notes on Lappie.

2. I would always have money to buy gifts for my parents and take care of the house's electricity bill.

3. I would wear formal clothes and take a cab everywhere.

4. I would always have enough money to have Pepsi in any 5-star hotel in Bombay.

5. I would sit inside a glass cabin of my own office and burn money. Outside my pet panthers would prowl about and some stuffy, very ordinary people would be looking in with alarm. However, I would be posh and insouciant, and simply look at the money burn. I would be sipping Pepsi.

Now, I have no idea why point number 5 is so random. It doesn't even feel like it arose from the same pool of sub-conscious aspirations. Anyway, I managed to have done 4 out of 5. But today I came close to accomplishing 5.

At my co-working space, I had booked a meeting room for 4 hours for a call that would last 2 hours. I figured I would work on something else in the remaining time. Usually the team at the work-space assigns me a smaller room. But they had assigned me a rather large meeting room today. Heck...it was a meeting room so large that it was borderline conference room with signature death-type temperature set.

There was a group of men sitting in the room. All of them wore spectacles and scowls. They were all looking into screens that undoubtedly had code written on them.

I knocked.

They ignored.

I knocked and opened the door.

This time, I had their attention.

"I have a booking.", I said.

They looked unsure but packed up their laptops and exited.

I went in and settled down. Charged my laptop. Checked the online meeting link. Arranged my presentation. Jotted the few points about the design approach that I would use to win the client over.

The team of men that had stepped out sat in a cramped central common area. All the other seats were taken. They kept looking inside waiting for me to get up.

I knew that.

So I came out and told them that I had the room for 4 hours. I didn't need to. But I thought I should let them know so they could make other arrangements.

I went in. Took the call. It was a good call.

Now I had three hours to spare.

The team outside had spread out somewhat. Some seats had become vacant so a few men were sitting there.

All the other meeting rooms had groups of people. I was in the biggest meeting room and I was by myself.

There was a soft, steady warmth that enveloped my heart. It felt good. The way luxury of great fabric feels.

I sat in and decided to not work anymore.

I wrote some letters.

I watched Graham Norton.

Outside the team of men were getting ready to leave. I noticed that all of them were wearing dark t-shirts. When some of them turned towards the exit, I saw the rubber print on the back of the tee-shirts.

It read, 'Black Panther'.

Day 75 of 14,600

What I enjoyed today:

1. Exclusive time in the meeting room at the co-working space. I was by myself and was sipping my coffee while watching the Graham Norton show.

2. The Graham Norton show. I have zero idea why I didn't watch it earlier. YouTube would keep recommending it but I never watched it until I did. (YouTube is like a parent. I think it knows me better than I do myself.)

3. A good, large hearty dinner. There was rice, roasted moong daal, methi, and tindli.

4. Getting through an excruciating call that prepared me for another call. 

5. The outfit I wore today. A thin, white formal shirt wore under a sleeveless black jersey dress. Looked like I was chick and doing something important - like getting coffee and watching the Graham Norton show.

Day 74 of 14,600

I completed today.

Mum is home from hospital.

Was frazzled.

Am exhausted.

Said no to some work.

Said please understand to some other work.

Said tomorrow, promise! to other work still.

Today came with its own stubbornness and its own rough kindness.

I completed today.

For now, that's enough.

Day 73 of 14,600

The day has ended now and I am in bed.

It was a good day. Mixed bag but mostly good.

Went out to a couple of offices. Got one invoice cleared. In the other office, submitted an invoice and heard about someone's beautiful trip to Tashkent. Saw a couple of really nice photos.

Waited for a friend while I sipped a jewel toned Raspberry soda.

Met a friend. We had a good time. She gifted me a packet of purple yam chips. She dropped me home. We used to go for frozen yogurt in Pune. She is a wonderful dog trainer and a super stylist. 

Came home. The cook told me of one summer where she found a lost white pigeon. Rather the white pigeon had found her. It flew in and perched on her shoulder as she cooked. The pigeon would poop on other people's hands or peck them if they approached it. But not my cook. It would flutter around her and hop along the length of her body to wake her up. 

One afternoon my cook had fallen asleep. "It felt like death", she described. She heard some flutter and urgent cooings but her eyes didn't open. She only vaguely saw the shadow of a cat on a roof.

Later when her husband was cleaning the drain and asked hertoh help, she saw the pigeon half-chewed and dead.

My cook cried hard and didn't eat for two days.

I feel like I build my days with the stories of other people.

Life feels like "mitti ka ghar."

Some sketching also happened

Rendition of The Little Mermaid and a contemporary twist on the same picture if I had to do it. (The second one is inspired from Sophie Kinsella's 'The Twenties Girl'.)

Ode to a tentative forever

Image from www.pexels.com

October and red halves of dried leaves. 

Pockets of ponds from retreating rains and mighty ships made of cellophane. Poetry scribbled in backs of books. 

Flashing numbers of forgotten friends. They come from times that are now ghost towns. 

October and blue shadows on playgrounds. Sweet children with lollies and slices of oranges. 

A sun that seems to melt and harden into a North Star against a theatrical blank canvas. The sky is bizarre. The sky is the sky. 

October and deep loves. October and deep memories of deep loves. October and deep wounds caused by the deep memories of deep loves. 

October and music. October and hope. October and the year has not yet ended. 

October and the year has not yet begun. Yet October and a returning of some kind is happening. October and hope’s final address. October and hope’s last destination. 

October and the lost gypsy of our dreams and the tribe of nomadic fears have finally come home. October the cemetery of a careless summer. 

October and red halves of dried leaves. 

349, 348, 347, 346, 345, 344, 343: Trip to Kasol, Himachal Pradesh

The first time I saw the Parvati river, I had tears in my eyes. The unfettered power and peace of a river that is named after a woman who prayed for Shiva is visceral. May all our prayers be that way.

Some more pictures of the rain, mountains, mist...

421, 420, 419, 418, 417

What I put up on Facebook

What I did for my birthday was shove a few clothes in my bag, turn off the lights, close the door behind me, and head out at midnight for the Velas beach with some people I didn't know too well. For my birthday, I wanted to take off. And I did.

The Velas beach is where the Ridley turtles lay eggs and they hatch and the little turtles are released into the sea. A really big deal is made about it all. For me, the weekend and my birthday was about endless walks on the beach, standing hypnotized in font of a sunset, sharing a smile with stranger who was recording the sound of the waves.

It was about a serenditous stumble on another white and golen beach, a trippy road trip, an unplanned halt where we turned off the lights and watched a large swatch of sky fill with fireflies...it was about going up a really high tower and watching the beautiful yin and yang that a fortress and the sea make. It was about screeching to a halt as we watched a large, stunning , black and white spackled python (so long it covered the span of the lane on the highway) cross the road.

There is something about being free. About being happy. About being with travelers in an unknown place for an unknown time that strangely makes you feel more connected with those at home.

When I watched the endless sea crash a limitless shore...or i watched tons of fireflies blaze near bushes...or I caught the rhythm of a massive snake in the pitch dark of the night...I felt strangely with everyone I'd ever known. I wasn't available on phone or facebook...but in some sense I'd taken everyone with me. I hope you felt the magic too.

459: Happy Valentine's Day all!

There here is the sky under which I roamed around Bandra today.
Under a different kind of mucroscope,
I think and I hope, my heart looks like the Bandra sky.

The church at Mount Mary. It's a gorgeous little place.

The candles one burns at the grate. I love those luscious colours.

Mother Mary...she intrigues me. She looks like the kind of woman who would give birth to a son who would teach love.

I don't know if the boy and girl here are in love but I love the elements here:
the road, the sky, the backpack, the auto ready to ply..
love is sweet, ordinary, regular, everyday, in bluejeans and carries a backpack.

This gorgeousness here...like seriously.

Driving towards BKC.

Not sure if you can see it here but the red walls here have this jali-filigree' thing going on.

The 'Make in India' centre with the lion entering the 'jungle'? (of one tree!)

I love all things yellow!

This lion is on its way to meet Andy Warhol.

I bought lilies today from Khoja florist.
They're showcased here in my other home.

I love pink. I just love that colour.
Like I have always believed, pink is passion that turned kind.
Pink lilies! So awesome!

496

It was a beautiful day today.

I took a long, leisurely walk to office where I had to sign some final documents. On the way, I saw this stunning tree that seemed to have a floral cloudburst on the top of it. There were garnet-coloured flowers and flowers that looked like spittles of fire and flowers that were a magical purple and pink mix. This chaos of gemmed beauty rose high above to nudge a perfect, even blue sky.

On the way, I took a detour via a stunning, shaded avenue. An elderly gentleman was passing by carrying bread and eggs wrapped in brown paper. I smiled at him. He looked at me and was hesitant. I'd almost passed him when he shouted out, "Do you know me?"

I said, "No. I just smiled...just like that."

He looked really happy. He said, "Thank you! That's sweet. Happy New Year."

I remember our conversation verbatim. Will put it in a play.

Who would have thought that before that day I had an accident with a water tanker.

No harm done. And the day looked up!

517

Source: www.pexels.com

A friend had come over for coffee last night. Among the many things we talked about, he quoted Carl Sagan, “If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create a universe.” I loved it.

He recommended Robert McKee’s ‘Story’. Although it’s a manual for screenplay writing, he mentioned that it might help me with plot my stories as well. I ordered a hard cover version from Amazon which will reach me in the New Year so yay!

We discussed ‘Signature of All Things’ by Elizabeth Gilbert and just how marvelous she is. She is. She really is. Her work has some kind of patient unknotting, you know, that is difficult to articulate. It is a beautifully plotted book.

I bought a packet of ‘thetcha’ which is a very, very delectable chilli and garlic paste you get in Maharashtra. It’s had as an accompaniment with chapatti and stuff. I love it. I absolutely love it. It’s just that I’ve always had it when it got made in my friends’ houses and stuff. But now that it is available in a friendly packet that I can pick up from a store and have it whenever I want, life is good.

I bought Maggi and had it at midnight. With a generous dollop of the thetcha in it and a spoonful of rice. (I like a rice and noodle mix.) Maggi is so wonderful. I missed it so much. It felt like the return of true love.

528, 527

There was Bombay, you know? I went there on Saturday morning.  That same morning, I had sat in the car and cried hard because I was broken up with. The plusses of dating kind people is that they are polite and they will be mindful of your feelings. But I suppose all break-ups are ultimately an audit of why you are a little bit off and a little bit wrong. Anyway, I got dropped at the bus stop and took a bus going to Dadar. Even though I tried to figure out just what is so wrong with being 'too sensitive' and how one determines the right limit, I thought of Dadar. The colours, the noise,  the sound, the crowd, the  buzz, the hustle...it is such an uplifting place...or rather it was to me that moment. I reached Dadar and was confused. A guy helped me to get to the right platform. I reached Goregaon and took a rick to my friends place. The rick guy chased me down to hand me back the change I had forgotten about. I watched, tellingly, a film  called Tamasha (which I loved and which made me curious how Imtiaz Ali and Ranbir Kapoor knew me enough to model a character after me), my most affectionate friend treated me to dinner, helped me buy a phone, bought me make-up, and made me laugh. We walked at midnight on the roads of Malad until she flagged down a rick...around that time, I saw a text from him asking me if I would be okay? I guess despite it all, we just try our bit at being kind. I saw that. I sensed that. I said yes. I wished him well. I really really meant it. Because I was in Bombay. Because despite what it makes of other people, it brings out the best version of myself. Because it has the sea. And because the sea kind of makes no bones about being too sensitive. Because how else would I survive? Because how else would I be strong?

Because,  you see, there is Bombay. 

587

Yesterday I went to a counsellor with my mother. We were late because the doctor's office was quite a distance from my house. (Vashi to Babulnath can take a while!) But I always like taking the new highway and try to stop my heart from lurching with love and awe every time I see the skyline! Anyway, the drive was fun, even if long. The session was short, though, and I guess there wasn't much breakthrough. But I noticed that after nearly 6 years, I bought and wore a necklace in German silver, earrings, and went for coffee with a friend. So, small steps maybe...but a little bit of joy.

This morning, on a lark, I gave a scene to my mom and her masseuse to act out.

The scene was this: There's a matriarch of a large family that is largely absent. She is still a stickler for propriety and so, even in a large empty house, instead of having her meals in the bedroom in front of the T.V., she still has the table laid out, the chandelier polished, the drapes match the table placements, and the silver polished until they shone. She lives only with a maid who doubles up as a cook. They have lived together, like this, for nearly a decade. While they are mistress and maid and that distinction is still apparent, a certain familiarity has permeated the equation. The maid can approach the mistress without a preamble and simply ask for money to buy salt or ask for the extra tube of purple lipstick the mistress was about to throw away.

One evening, the maid comes in to ask the mistress about the half-eaten dinner on the table. The mistress looks up and says that she had cleared the plates herself. After all, she knew the maid would be out in the garden anyway. The maid is not convinced. The custard has spilled on the mats, the chicken is shredded but not eaten, the gravy has spilled and stained the tablecloth. She's listing each such aberration when she notices her mistress's gaze to someone behind her. The hair on her neck stands and she realizes who it is. The dead need to eat too.

After some initial joking and stuff, they did the scene. I think they were quite good.

Maybe I SHOULD write a movie.  A good, horror film.




 

591

Yesterday was a good day.

Got an email from storymirror informing me that I've won their Season 1 contest.

Watered the plants yesterday. (Mum has got me close to 10 plants, of which some 7 have flowers.) They are too pretty!

A friend at work had got me home-made gulab-jamuns.

Had dinner with a friend and her dog. We had corn poha.
 

596

I wonder if one searches for someone stronger than oneself because one is looking for someone to protect and save her from herself. She hasn't managed. Maybe someone stronger will?

Am really liking this song 'Saware' from Phantom: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsOsmgUmT9U

601, 600, 599, 598, 597

From www.pexels.com

Returned from Bangalore and it was a really good trip.

1. Got a superb haircut. Went to Mirror and You at UB City on a whim. A lady called Neelima cut my hair. She worked in Kit and Sam in Bombay earlier and is very very good and very very swift. Was in an out of the parlor in under 30 minutes...and this includes hair wash.

2. Took the metro. It's so great and convenient and cheap - considering the autofares and cab fares in Bangalore.

3. Ate seriously good food.

4. Had lots to drink. Toit on Indranagar brews its own beer and I tried something called the Tintin which was excellent and a variety brewed from Basmati rice - which was awesome. (I just heard that they're opening in Pune and Bombay, which is something I will very closely watch out for.) The Long Island Iced Tea at Lemon Tree topped up with Jasmine tea instead of Cola is lovely!

5. Church Street, Brigade Road, and MG Road - in that order - feel like Christmas. You walk down one of those small lanes and all the coffee shops are blaring music. They are cheery places, all in all.

6. Blossoms from where I got an armful of Barbara Cartland for a friend. She's also written a cookbook!

7. Very smart black skirt - it has pockets and a brown braided belt. And a cream top with a beaded pattern and slouchy shoulders. I got these from Chemistry opposite UB City.

8. Wisdom. I was really sad for a few days when I reached Bangalore and my pal's leaves got canceled. I was supposed to hang out with her but in any case, I generally roamed about and it just seemed very acute to me that I was by myself. With no way out. It just felt that I was invisible and irrelevant. What did I matter and what did my opinion or my feelings or anything matter? It was making me all weepy and stuff. So I used to look forward to traveling for long distances by bus - where I'd be tending to a really tender wounded heart in the comfortable anonymity that a big city allows. But I did get some time with my pals - some real quality time. Either before they got to work or during an evening when we were waiting for our dishes to arrive. It helped me. A lot.

9. Thalasserie, a Kerala joint, makes superb pepper fry. I wish I'd had more food there.

10. Lalbaugh - magical and mysterious and just very inspiring.

11. Have come back with a plan to return.