Flowers I see

It’s a season of flowers here.  I see a jungle full of flowers as I drive to the office each Monday morning.  Palash is everywhere.  With its bright saffron flowers, it is the easiest one to notice.  But there are other ones too, the ones that you wouldn’t perhaps notice if you didn’t have an eye for trees and flowers.

Shalmali is another easy one to recognize if you know one.  One can easily identify it with its uniquely thorny stem and branches.  These are not plenty though.  I see only two or three Shalmali trees on my way.  These days Shalmali is all flowers and no leaves.  You can find a Palash anywhere in this jungle, not Shalmali.  I want to pull over and go watch the tree from close, take photographs, and share with you all.  Morning hours do not permit leisure though.  Each minute is measured to reach the office within time. I do have a few pictures of this beautiful tree though, taken more than a decade ago.

I remember two Shalmali trees in Nagpur, both in Ajni.  One was just south of the Ajni Railway Reservation Centre, beyond a boundary wall of railway quarters.  That was perhaps the first Shalmali tree I ever saw.  The second one is near Ajni Square, on the left side of the road as onegoes towards the FCI godowns.  It is perhaps on Central Jail land.  I wonder if both these trees still exist.

Today is not about Palash or Shalmali though.  It is about these beautiful treeful of pink flowers I see on Ring Road, lined up beside the road on the left side going east past and beyond Pratap Nagar Cafe Coffee Day.  (The much-famed coffee house does not exist anymore at this location and is another story altogether).I never noticed these flowers all these years and now these trees are such full of them that you cannot unsee.  I wanted to stop every time I passed by, but again, I am always in a hurry.  But today as I reached Amravati, surprise, I found the same tree and same flowers just a few minutes before I reached work.  Here I can go and look, take a few pictures, and use google lens to identify the tree.

It’s an avenue tree planted beside the road near Rukhmini Nagar square, on the left side of the road as one goes toward the square from Bus Stand, near the boundary wall of Science Core ground.  It is a medium-sized tree, not as big as the big ones.  Though, unlike Shalmali, it still has leaves on it, its flowers are the first thing one would notice.  One of these days, I will go walk to it, take some photos, and share with you all.

Corrigendum: I checked my notes from another blog I wrote during those days and the second Shalmali tree I wrote about above, the one in Ajni square, is not a Shalmali, but a Gulmohar instead.  So, I remember one Shalmali tree in Nagpur.  I vaguely remember seeing a few others in Government Ayurved College woods in Sakkardara, but I certainly did not see flowers there.  I also remember seeing one tree in Mumbai, in the open ground in the compound of TCS iON Digital Zone in Powai.  This one is numbered as tree number 28, so one can go and check.

Fear of being seen

I feel very conscious of myself all the time. I have a constant fear that someone will see me. I wish I were left unseen most of the time. I feel like someone will see me, walking, and say to himself, “look, he is walking.”

This is strange. Years have gone by. I have come up a long way. Foundations of these fears are all long gone. Yet these shadows hover and refuse to go.

Nothing helps

I am sick of days and nights. Nothing brings me at rest. Work makes me anxious. Home time makes me feel wanting more rest all over. Nothing seems to be of help.

I read a book. I finished this one. I don’t remember when it was the last time I finished one. I felt better as I read it. It brought something to look forward. To move through pages, to next chapters. It finished though. I am again left with nothing to do. I do not want to do anything that needs to be done.

I looked for other books, but I could find none that that keep me bound. I read pages here and there. It takes me nowhere. It leaves me more anxious.

I find no way. I pass days. The past week, on the weekend prior to the weekend, I fell and hurt my shoulder. I wore a sling for two weeks. I had to attend work. Wife and son moved with me to help with the hurt shoulder. I don’t have a habit of living with other human beings for longer periods. It feels odd.

I wish I lived alone like I always do. It’s not that I don’t love them and want them away. I do understand it would help my son to spend some time with me. All he has of me is weekends.

I am not complaining. This is one way of living, and I don’t have a habit of it. That is all.

No regrets

I thought I could do better, so I finished work early and went for a walk. I phoned a friend and talked as I walked. I talked about work and films and music. I told her about Shams bhai and our weekend meets. I thanked her for being a friend when there are none left.

There are things I did not tell her though. I did not tell her that I watched La La Land one of these days and cried past midnight. This person is not a fan of subtitles and do not watch English movies.

I reached back home and took a bath. It is cold out, still not chilly as the mornings. I gelled my hair and sprayed perfume and applied old spice on my stubbles.

I then called the Lady and told her that I love her. No qualms about that. I told her neither that I cried the other day.

On the laptop, I tried this and that. Some of it worked, some didn’t. I spent an evening. No regrets.

Of lost purpose

I have nothing to do. I bought a new laptop. I thought having a new laptop would give me some access to a world. The access I got, but I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. I had thought I would read some novel. It’s been ages since I read one. Though I will read nothing and do nothing. It was not access that I lacked. I lacked purpose. No laptop can instill purpose in me.

The bar is low; I pass.

I have nothing.  There is nothing for me to tell and for you to listen.

I read cheap novels these days.  The page-turners.  The ones that you forget as soon as you put them down.  I read them in whatever little time I get between work and sleep and YouTube and twitter and Facebook.  Sometimes, I watch movies.  Most of them are more than two-hour long and they run past midnight.  There are very few things one can do past midnight.  I do one or the other.  I sleep.

I wake up in the mornings when it is impossible to stay in bed any longer.  I need to get up and brush my teeth and trim my beard and take a bath and iron the clothes and polish the shoes before ten o’clock.  I do some of the tasks; I leave some of them not done.

Some days I feel better.  Other days, and these are many, I feel miserable.  I don’t want to see anyone and let no one see me.  I sit in a glass chamber.  People come and go.  Some watch me through the glass panels.  Sometimes I feel like a person.  Other times I feel like I am an animal kept in a zoo.

Some days, I do good.  Most of the days.  I don’t let them know that I am sick and tired.  The bar is low; I pass.  People applaud.

Evenings are good time.  There are certain tasks one must do.  I make a phone call to home.  Nights are better.  I read cheap novels; the page-turners.  I scroll YouTube and twitter and Facebook.  Sometimes, I watch movies.  The movies run past midnight.  There is very little one can do past midnight.  I do something or other, then I sleep.

2018: A Twitter Review

January

February

March


April

May

https://twitter.com/aintgd/status/999982045177638912

June

https://twitter.com/aintgd/status/1004781371234004992
https://twitter.com/aintgd/status/1009949087012212736

July

https://twitter.com/aintgd/status/1014533587776008194

August

September

October

November

December

I am no more a reader

I have lost all desire to read.  I, who once considered myself a reader, has stopped reading altogether.  I have tons of books in Kindle and also in paper copy, but I read none of them.  If I read anything, it’s some total useless self-help book like I’ll teach you how to become rich.  I am no more a reader.  I sleep within five minutes of starting to read.

So next time if I boast of reading some book or something, remind me I am no more a reader.