Five Years. And Not Out of Work!

Would you care to know what I did yesterday? Let me tell you anyways. Last evening, it rained very heavily in the city, the lashing winds, blowing rain sorts that I am terribly familiar with in Madikeri. So much that the electricity went off and made it all the more a home experience. I made myself that now rare cup of hot, sugarless, very strong coffee, dragged my heavy wooden chair towards the door and sipped my coffee, even as little droplets of water sprayed on to my face. It rained for nearly an hour and I pretty much stared at it for that entire duration. And then I was duly inspired to write something.

Then the other day I took a long walk around the park and breathed in some air. Then I began reading a book by Margaret Atwood, falling promptly in love with the way she writes. I have been meeting interesting people, watching plays, talking, I mean really talking to my parents, talking to people, writing, traveling, breathing in and breathing out--slowly, not ever looking at a watch, or a calendar, cooking like ma does, watching movies, listening to music, doing yoga and learning to be an instructor, trying to teach, writing for children, learning Spanish…. And making my money too, mind you. Now where in the scheme of these things do I sound like I am wasting my life and “out of job”, I wonder!

Yes, this is a part-venom post. I couldn’t help it when things got so bad as they are. If I were to be asked to condense life’s truth in one sentence, it would be that people talk. Period. No matter what you do. No matter how you live your life. No matter how much care you take. I have also learnt that they don’t matter, not the people who talk. But.

There is always a ‘but’ in there, isn’t it? But once in a while, it gets so bad that what people say matters too. One of those million hurtful, nasty things travels along various ears and mouths and ends up picking at exactly the spot where the heart is most sore. The pain then, the sense of helplessness, that of anger and betrayal and hurt, is incredulous. I admit that I am not that thick skinned, at least not yet, to never let it hurt. And that hurt makes me do stupid things, like hurt other people. I don’t like myself then, but hurt clouds it all so much that the mirror in front only shows a different person and I think, maybe it is good, in the long term. That’s the defense mechanism kicking in. I hate it. I hate those people who started it. I used to think hate is too strong a word; my opinion will perhaps be reinstated when I am less angry and hurt but for now I hate.

As of now, life is not exactly the way I want it to be, but then, it never is. I make my peace with that, usually. Neither am I content, I never wish to be, contentment leading to complacency would be the death of my creative being. Life will never be the way I direct it to be, but that’s ok too. What is not ok is this “out of job” business. I have full days, running around, trying to live my life quietly, trying my mistakes out. And I am being brave in my beautiful mistakes (a friend’s line). The only people I now allow to worry whether I make money or not are my parents. Remnants of the flower power age that they seem to be, they are not too worried, as long as I know what I am doing, as long as I am responsible for my insanity here. Period. All others may please stop those hurtful things that you do.

And I mean you. For the last time, leave me alone. Better still, shut up. Thank you very much.

Sorry, there was too much venom I had to spit out. I hated doing that.

I am done now.

Also, I complete five years of blogging to this day. It has been a therapeutic journey, making it all ok during the days when I needed to vent out the most. This space has been with me through the worst and the best, like some people. To them, to this, I am most thankful. I only wish it was a more cheerful post today. But then, I did not have to pretend, least of all here.

Today is Ajji’s 80th birthday. She is much better these days, thank goodness for that. I went to see her today and many years after, we talked. It was nice. :-) Love you Ajji.