Day 39 of 108

 Today I wrestled a lot with myself. My stint at work has ended and now, actually, I have a lot of time. I did not sleep too well though. I was feeling stuffy and the fan's regulator is broken or something. So it was hot. I was too tired to reach for the AC remote and in my mind, I had started calculating the million expenses that are now piling up related to the house's upkeep. 

These are all familiar patterns after giving up a contract to work on my own creative endeavor. But today, after I had glutted on reels and sanctimonious podcasts, I ruminated about something strange. That now I am feeling fired up to go and meet friends, roam around, etc. And this is exactly what I need to guard against. As a freelance and independent contributor, I have had two instances where I have felt so much pain, ruin, erosion, and suffocation that I would not wish that on my enemy. I need to give myself at least 3 months to work on my own creative project now. Otherwise I have just paid a very very heavy price for nothing. So, although, I was tempted to go out, chat up with friends, etc. I restrained myself. I also had to go to Vashi today. My plan was to leave early in the morning and travel by train. It costs close to Rs.500 (maybe around Rs.450) one way by auto. And now without income, thousand bucks a week for just a couple of hours in Vashi was feeling like a lot. So I thought I would travel by train. But I dawdled in the morning and then took a rick. In the rick though, I thought of so many of my expenses are because of my procrastination. I am really so heavy with ennui and laziness that it is actually costing me. I mean, I can put a price on it. 

Anyway, at home, in chat with father I arrived at a fresh set of expenses. Then I felt a little bad for depriving myself of coconut water because it is 150 rupees. At that price, it should come with its own sapling. But no matter. I will still give myself 7 to 15 days of planning and unwinding time and work on something juicy for myself. Even if that's the last thing I do before I die. 

After some mental calculations had happened, I realized that it was time now to take the train or bus. If I opted for comfort, I would be getting closer to compromising my goal. It was tempting. But I had given in to it in the morning. So night time was the time for public transport. 

I must say that I had the distinct advantage of traveling on Saturday night, around 8 pm. The ticket counters (or sweetly called 'Ticket Ghar') at Vashi were relatively empty. Trains were empty. I could stretch out my legs in the seat opposite. 

A very sweet, lovely young girl sold such sweet smelling flowers. She had a beautiful, beautiful face and a gorgeous smile. Her brow and forehead looked like the face structure you generally see in Devi paintings. A eunuch smiled and blessed me. 

At Vadala station, I have to change the train for Bandra. But for a while, all the trains were marked for Panvel or CST. On the bridge, I was waiting for indicators to point me to the platform for an Andheri or Goregaon train. (Bandra comes on the way.) But...I got a dedicated train to Bandra! That was so awesome! (On the bridge I struck up a casual conversation with another lady. A guy with a shiny laptop bag gave me and my dishevelled hair a side eye.) Reached Bandra station. And can I just say that from the bridge, Bandra East - especially BKC - looks far better than Bandra West. And Bandra West...they have just made the auto stand situation too chaotic. 

Reached home and boiled some noodles in daal. Too good!

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. But honestly not as active as I would like him to be. He told me that because I am not in his skin, I don't understand what he is going through. I suppose I should go easy on the advice. He looked sweet though. 

2. The train ride was me overcoming my inner sloth. Really grateful for that.

3. Had food at home.

4. Have water at home. 

5. Have electricity and could get some flowers to endy day with. Grateful for the beauty. 

6. The train ticket from Vashi to Bandra is 15 rupees. The best part about these local train tickets is that they give you a couple of stops beyond what you have asked for if it's the same fare. But I got the ticket up to Borivali! That's nearly 8 stations beyond Bandra. I could go up to Andheri or Versova or wherever if I wanted to! What a gift! Stuff like that makes me feel I am taken good care of. 

Day 38 of 108

Last day of my contract today. Formalities done. Just like that something ended. 

It feels like a dream. The way the work started, the pain points, the difficulties, my abject anger and helplessness, some resolution, my break, my decision to leave, and then the exit. 

I don't know why...this feels very very dream like. Like I imagined the whole experience. 

Be that as it may. May there be peace for both sides.

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. 

2. Left my key at home today when I went for a walk. Thankfully it was morning and the cleaning lady was coming shortly so it got sorted. But just yesterday I was thinking of how lucky my days were that I had not locked myself out of the house in a while. Let's see. I have to pay more attention. Thankfully this got sorted out smoothly today.

3. Treated myself to a Cortardo in Boojee today. Oh! How I love that place!

4. Had a nice walk. Saw a fight almost break out on Pali Hill but no harm done.

5. The flowers on Pali Hill are so pretty.

6. Got a short, quick farewell when I left. That was sweet. All things considered. 

A Carter Road vignette

 It's a hot summer night on Carter Road. There are some couples who're getting to know each other as they stroll past a tepid, shimmering ocean dotted with construction equipment. (At this point, construction equipment in Mumbai, or at least Bandra West, can pass for installation art.) There are girls in track pants and tee-shirts so faded that they are one wash away from being dust cloths. They occupy the two far ends of Carter's and play badminton. Some young boys are listening to something on their phones. Families with little children try to find a spot to sit where their kids will not start scooting after large rats running around. I walk on the promenade just to immerse myself in the quiet communion of the joy of the ordinary people. A little girl with curly hair runs towards me. She almost trips. I help her up and look around to check for a panicked parent. A sweaty lady is tying her shoelaces. She signs to me to keep her kid in check for a few minutes. I tell this girl that her name is Rayna. Because she looks like a Rayna. She is a little surprised at being told her name and not asked it. But she shrugs. It's not important to her what she's called. I asked her why she was running so fast. She points to the moon and tells me she wanted to catch it. I asked her if she knew what that was. She thinks and tries to remember what it is. She gives up and says, "Tired sun." By this time, her mother has reached us and smiles and retrieves her daughter from my custody. I looked up at the sky and thought that we truly are living in a beautifully bizarre world...where kids can spot the burnout in nature. And with such poetry.

Day 37 of 108

I had a square of dark chocolate now. It had bits of nuts and chunks of orange. Bittersweet it was. And thus was today.

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. Spoke to him. He sounded good and happy. 

2. Went for a really nice walk. As you approach Carter's from Pali Hill, it looks so beautiful!

3. Had soya cutlets. I love those.

4. Did a little bit of workout in the gym.

5. Wrapped up some work. And tomorrow is my final day. Lots to think about. But today the day is done.

Day 36 of 108

I am feeling scared and scattered today. The case of the rape website - that has been on my NewsFeed. Feeling really nauseous. Overate today. Quite a bit. It was stress. 

I think I really need to take time off from work to examine my internal world more closely. More than what I am doing even now. With more detachment. Otherwise I will unravel. 

Still, we get on by getting on.

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. I didn't speak with him today. But no serious, urgent call from home. So I think that is okay. 

2. Went to the gym today. The AC in my building gym is not working so I worked out in the heat. Just as well. Felt like a workout proper.

3. Had a work meeting. It was quick and painless. 

4. Had a nice breakfast at Boojee today. 

5. Had an interesting walk up Pali Hill. I stopped to click some really pretty flowers. I didn't realise but a street dog was standing behind me. I knocked over him a little bit and yelped in fright. The doggy just moved away. His eyes were so calm and loving. So sweet he was. God bless him/ her. 

6. Really really grateful that I am safe. 

Day 35 of 108

It was a rather sweet and happy day today. Peaceful. 

Got through the day. Went to the gym. A friend took me for a drive and we went to Haji Ali juice center for fruit and cream. Oh, I love that place so much! I had mango cream and my friend had dry fruit and cream. 

A little bit about Haji Ali. Papa used to take us there when his office was in Maker Towers. Papa used to tell us to notice the service in that area. Cars would be lined up and waiters would remember large orders and get us our desserts correctly every single time. Also, despite the heat, the cream-based dishes would never be curdled. The sweetness of the cream was simple. The fruits were juicy. The balance was perfect. It was perfect 40 years ago. It is perfect now. 

The Haji Ali fruit and cream was my symbol for a perfect love. When I decided after college that I wanted to get into writing, I wanted my language to provide the Haji Ali Cream Centre experience - unfussy, direct, tasteful, simple, perfect...and overall supreme. (The effort continues.)

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well.

2. Am safe.

3. Found my phone at home. Thought I had left it in the auto.

4. Went for a drive to Haji Ali and had fruit and cream. Yummy! I love that place so much! And Bombay at night! Wow!

5. Went to the gym.

6. Wrote about John Steinbeck's 'The Pearl'. Quite enjoyed writing it. 

First Impressions: The Pearl by John Steinbeck

I will begin this write-up with a story about my life that is not here nor there. When I was looking for a set of subjects to pick in St. Xavier’s, I did not choose literature. Because I loved reading too much. So the idea of getting so close to a story, figuring out its mechanics, scrutinising it, and dissecting meaning and symbols, instead of simply being awash in the glow of a journey undertaken through words – the idea did not appeal at all. When I had to decide a major, it was a toss-up between Sociology and Psychology. I chose ‘Sociology’ because it seemed expansive and interesting. One of our teachers had told us a couple of things about sociology that helped me make that decision:

(AA)  Sociology was the study of regularities in society. Psychology is the study of irregularities in an individual.

(BB)   The smallest unit to study in Sociology is a family. The smallest unit to study in Psychology is one person.

The poetic whim of this lens is how I decided Sociology. And incidentally, as a Sociology student, I read more literature than my own textbooks. And from that reading, I understood that true authentic literature is both and beyond – the mind of an individual, the mayhem of a world and the membrane that separates and holds them both.

That was a rather large prelude to Steinbeck’s ‘The Pearl’. First of all, I had not heard of this work by Steinbeck. The Pearl is a retelling of a Mexican Folk Tale. It is set around late 1940s in La Paz, Mexico. We follow the story of a small, contented family of fisherfolk. There’s Kino, the man of the house, his woman Juan, and their infant Coyotito whose gurgles, giggles, and burps fill up their lives. Kino wakes up and goes to fish in La Baja California every day. (Incidentally, La Baja was so pearl-rich that pearls from the region hand funded the Spanish Inquisition at one point.) He doesn’t have too much materially but has a stoic and supportive partner and a baby. In a very specific way and space, he is an emperor. And athers – of he has this ability – passed on by his forefathers of hearing appropriate music in his mind as events emerge. I am not sure whether this is literal but it is a beautiful way of conveying to us that Kino is very much in tune with his world and everything that is in it.

One day, the baby is stung by a scorpion. Juan commands that they go to the doctor in town. That walk from their hut to the doctor is one of the most spectacular descriptions of social divide that I have ever read. Juan is resolute because she is focusing on the baby. But Kino is keenly aware of how backward his class is. He feels shame. He feels inadequate that he doesn’t have the stride of an educated person. He feels helpless that he doesn’t know the medicine books that the doctors or priests quote when they want to save his son’s health or soul.

He is a diver. And in the world outside the sea and his hut, he is out of his depth.

The doctor is a corrupt man who, expectedly asks his man-Friday to turn away the family from the gate. He does not even meet them. Kino is ashamed. Juan is still resolute and she suggests that they go farther, across the ocean. Coyotito is wrapped up in a scarf and is losing pulse.

One thing leads to another and Kino and family set sail. Understandably, going farther will cost. So Kino dives to get some more pearls to support his trip. And he finds…the pearl. In an oyster that seems to hum the song of the sirens, Kino finds a large exquisite pearl that shows the reflection of a peaceful world where his family is happy and his baby is healthy.

Once he gets the pearl, Juan has managed to suck out the scorpion sting from little Coyotito’s body. And now the pearl becomes their lens to a wider world. Kino dreams of getting a gun, getting married, getting his baby baptized in the church in fine clothes, getting an education for his son so that his child will know what the books contain. Then slowly, he hears the tenors of the music change. He sees and senses avarice – of his neighbors, of the market, of the priests, of the doctor (Who miraculously shows up at their door and tells Kino that he will give a medicine to the child so that the scorpion poison is eliminated for good – except that the child gets worse.) He prevents the pearl from getting stolen.

He does a lot. And the story does not end well.

It is a short story of a simple couple who for a brief period became the custodian of something gorgeous and dangerous. I found the pearl motif very stunning.

Yes, it is about the actual pearl, of course. But also what the pearl represents – the quiet sanctity of the world that Kino, Juan, and Coyotito live in. The simplicity of the neighbors. The dream of a distant town. And then when the oyster is opened up, the actual pearl and all these other gems of peace, quietude, and contentment also get poisoned.

Even as I type this out, I am feeling a pain in my gut. The language is so lyrical and alarming. So much peace must mask so much pain.

“It was a morning like other mornings and yet perfect among mornings.”

“When Kino had finished, Juana came back to the fire and ate her breakfast. They had spoken once, but there is not need for speech if it is only a habit anyway. Kino sighed with satisfaction - and that was conversation.”

Then, the rise of the fierce nature that men have to protect their family…and also grow.

“He had said, "I am a man," and that meant certain things to Juana. It meant that he was half insane and half god. It meant that Kino would drive his strength against a mountain and plunge his strength against the sea. Juana, in her woman's soul, knew that the mountain would stand while the man broke himself; that the sea would surge while the man drowned in it. And yet it was this thing that made him a man, half insane and half god…”

Steinbeck’s grip of how a larger social unit works different from a smaller social unit is so adroit.

“A town is a thing like a colonial animal. A town has a nervous system and a head and shoulders and feet. A town is a thing separate from all other towns alike. And a town has a whole emotion. How news travels through a town is a mystery not easily to be solved. News seems to move faster than small boys can scramble and dart to tell it, faster than women can call it over the fences.”

The Pearl is never listed as Steinbeck’s best works. But if ever there was a novella that meshed the knot of psychology with the weave of sociology and dyed it with some native myth and lore, this would be it.

 

 

Day 34 of 108

 My mummy would have been 74 years old today. Her birthday today. She is no more. In the same way the dream I had yesterday is no more. It is strange but I really wonder where she went. What happens after death? Mummy hated the heat. We used to have an AC in every room when I was growing up. At that time AC was a big luxury and not like the quotidien amenity of today. And that AC would be on full blast throughout the summers. Ma used to bathe twice a day at least. And my brother and I used to be responsible for bringing in ice cubes from the freezer to put in the buckets for her bath. 

I remember that morning when we went to the hospital. Papa had called and told me that she was losing health. I woke up my brother. He woke up with a start. I somehow knew what was coming so I started crying in the car, trying to hide my face. But my brother saw and got irritated because he did not want to accept what we were going to the hospital for. 

When we reached the hospital, the doctor said thay she was no more. The day was just breaking outside. Beyond her bed in the ICU, I could see pigeons on a ledge. They were going about their morning business. 

But Ma was not there. 

The way things are, hospital logistics, funerals, etc. take on a lot of attention and all that. So for some reason I still couldn't believe that she was no more. But then at the funeral pyre, when she lay on the wood, etc., it was so hot and all. But she looked peaceful. She wasn't hot or anything. She was away somewhere very comfortable. I remember feeling very torn then - that as long as there is life there is pain. Once life is gone, pain is gone too. But my mother was gone. The person who understood me the most was gone too. 

There's no point in thinking that she is there in the songs of the birds or the rain clouds or the smell of incense, etc. etc. She is not here. Sometimes I feel that maybe I should do a seance and call her. But then no. I love her too much for that. She must be happy and cool wherever she is. 

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. He was reading Oscar Wilde today and when I spoke to him, he seemed happy.

2. I remember my mom. I have very strong, visceral memories of her. I loved thinking about her today. 

3. Ordered some sweets today. Motichoor laddus from Bombay Sweet Shop. Gave one laddu to the delivery guy who had come to deliver groceries. He looked so happy. 

4. Got through the work day today.

5. Am safe. 

Day 33 of 108

 I am trying not to think about tomorrow. It is 4 am. Was trying to sleep but things are sick. Woke up to type this out.

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. Spoke to him today.

2. I went out today to Juhu with a friend. Juhu Shoppers Stop is so nice.

3. Tried Bayroute today. The Aush soup was really tasty.

4. Grateful for a home.

5. Grateful for the health. 

Day 32 of 108

 Gosh! I am so tired! And it was an expensive day. Strange, out of the blue expenses. And a lot of nervous tension. Still, silver linings in all days and here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. I met him today. And I got quite upset that he hadn't told me about the AC not working. That took forever to sort out because the Urban Company guy did not know what he was doing and our AC is very old. 

2. A friend came over to Vashi. It was so sweet of him and he drove me back to Bandra.

3. We got home safe even though we were illegally stopped.

4. Enjoyed vegetables.

5. Am alive.

Day 31 of 108

I think the dhobi has run off with my clothes. 25 pieces of clothing and he is gone. Strangely, I still have more than enough clothes. There are a few sarees in their Amazon packets as well and I can't find the bodycon dress that I bought. Now that I am working out, I would look good in it too. I wonder if it is symbolic for the message that so many things that get accumulated over time are really not required. You get used to them. 

A close friend had called me for her anniversary party. I didn't go. I just told her that I won't be able to make it. I didn't even give a reason. The weird thing is that I don't even feel bad. It would have been nice to see the kids but I feel when one is feeling this tired and done with humanity, one should not contaminate a child's space. Or maybe I am just done with the equation. And I don't have the energy in me to carry this on.

Anyway, the earth continues to spin for both of us. I mean, it doesn't spin FOR us...but it's spinning, we are living...and that's all there is to it. 

Here are all the things I am grateful for:

1. Papa is well. Spoke to him today. He was asleep when I called. He picked up and sounded groggy. A long time ago he had sounded this way when he was wounded. So my heart lurched. But thankfully he is well. 

2. I am grateful for this dhobhi experience because it is uncomfortable. I realise that I see this story playing on in my head over and over again. And this breaking of the loop is what I must work on. Based on a few things that I have read on trauma, the mind naturally holds on to thoughts of danger etc. because the nervous system has learned to cope that way. But it is important to disengage and disconnect.

3. Made it to the gym and did a little workout. Not as much as I need to. But it's okay. We made it.

4. A helpful reader of the blog reached out to me last night with a message. They were worried based on my last entry. (Nothing to worry about.) But I was touched by the tender humanity of strangers...of people.

5. I cooked a little today...plain ramen noodles from Urban Platter - just boiled in salt water and tossed in some ghee. Then I mixed in some tofu scramble made yesterday. That was yummy. I felt like a very self-sufficienct domestic person

..like a heroine of a novella who moves to an idyllic town and builds a life for herself.

6. Wrote about Foster. Writing is what I love. And whenever I do it, I feel it loves me too.