Archive for July, 2014

Four days of nothing

July 21, 2014

Three days I didn’t go to office. Then a Sunday. I spent my days in bed. First day, I went out – Gateway of India. People were taking photos. I got a portrait done, a pencil sketch – still the first one I ever got. The other two days were bleak. I tried opening all windows. I tried to clean up the room a little. It seemed to help for a while.

Not going to office also means breach of routine. I skip meals, sometimes both, and eat whatever I can find nearby. Also, I did not shave. It’s more than a week now. I have not washed clothes (from time immemorable).

I picked reading “Journey to the Center of Earth” and reached up to Rejkiavik – Capital city of Iceland – and we have started our journey forth on horses and with a local guide.

Meanwhile, Baba fell ill. Sodium went low. It was a big concern with his CKD. He visited his nephrologist on Saturday, improving now. Also, there were little fights, here, there.. Somehow, the four-day holidays ended.

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Have we already stopped writing emails?

July 14, 2014

It has been long since I got a mail in my inbox – a personal email. Spams, notifications, promotional emails is all what I get these days. Have people already stopped the practise of sending mails?

Letters are a thing of bygone days. There was a charm to it. I’ve written letters sometimes as long as 40 pages. Even a 4-line letter is a rarity now. I won’t complain about that. Lifestyles have changed over years.

But mails? Is it because of social media and instant messaging that we are ignoring this classy and more elaborate form of communication? Can a whatsapp message ever take place of a mail? An email is an email – a virtual letter. A Whatsapp/Facebook message is nothing.

It’s my birthday today. I’ve got a couple of phone calls. I made some mandatory phone calls. I am getting loads of birthday wishes on Facebook – a formal ritual that it is. I am missing a mail.

A meh day

July 3, 2014

Such a “meh” day. It’s only start of the day and my eyes are already aching. I had a good sleep last night; slept early and woke up late. It must not be because of sleep.

Work is going slow. The weather is damp with rains. The traffic is irritatingly slow. Yesterday, it took more than an hour for six kilometers – and all way standing in the bus. Same story repeated this morning. Too much time.. difficult more so if you’ve motion sickness.

Mumbai is a different place – not very much of my liking. Different people, different weather, different work culture. I sit all the day doing nothing. I hide myself from others. I take care no one notices me. It’s not the same old me who likes his work, who takes initiatives, who goes out of his way to help others.

Life is providing no respite, and I am doing nothing to make it simpler.

Of an infidel morning..

July 2, 2014

Such infidel thoughts in this circumspect world – and you’re being watched from everywhere. I’m missing a girl whom I shall not! But is there really something that “one shall not even miss someone”?

I was reading Slow Man by Coetzee this morning. Paul – my protagonist, a man of 70 with his leg amputated – pondering over his feelings for his caretaker Marijana – while she is dusting his books. Paul tries to find an exact word for his feelings. If he has to choose one word, he thinks, it would be admiration. “Can desire grow out of admiration, or are the two quite distinct species?” Paul thinks.

I, suddenly like a twinge, thought of a girl whom I had fallen in – principally an admiration. Whatever it was, it kept floating between admiration and desire – more towards admiration. What was it that I admired, I know not. Not really intelligent – someone whom I would put in “average” range – someone who makes mistakes in spellings and words and gets confused between convince and convenience. A beauty she was – no doubt absolutely gorgeous (so much that I once in my thoughts had named her Georgiana), but that must not be the reason. Was it her innocence? Perhaps it was, at least for the first few days, but later it was more of her reluctance to fall. I knew she admired me – a lot – and hence perhaps more cautious to let it not move up to desire. Sheer reluctance! Perhaps, it was no more an innocence.

My days were counted. As such, I was kind of taking a liberty to indulge, knowing it is to end on a fixed date. I weaved my days around her. I knew it was cruel of me trying to break her reluctance and I was still doing it. I knew it was best of it to leave it unsolved, and I was still trying to untangle it – only such that it does not get solved indeed. I lived my days between a yes and no – between admire and desire.

With an abrupt end, it started to fade away day by day. It was never to the stage where I could text her and say “I miss you” – in fact, never even where I could text her anytime I want. So when I was reading Coetzee this morning and was thinking of my Marijana, there was no question of me letting her know about it.

Then it started raining today – first real rain of this monsoon – making the weather kind of romantic when you see it out of the windows – and I set myself afloat, let myself flow…