It has been an absolutely awful day. Nothing could salvage it – not a walk near a fountain, not the butterscotch ice cream, and not even french fries. In the larger scheme of things, I know that it won’t matter and this day will be inconsequential. That I didn’t pick up the threads and tie them up will go out into the universe as a sign of indifference, and someday I will find myself facing it. Until that happens, there is moving on.
I’ve been meaning to write about a lot of things. Things like what people mean when they say, “It will be okay?” What will “it” be like when it’s “okay”? What will I be like when that happens? Will the world be a better place? Will my world have more sunshine? For what I want, when “it is okay” is more than just stability or resolution. I want peace and sunshine and the absence of conflict, even if it is for a while. I want more than just okay. I want fucking exhilarating. Nothing less.
I took the train to work and back for two days now. I did it because every time I hear the sigh in Boy’s voice when I tell him I’ve taken the cab, he reminds me of the way we’ve both been brought up. We’ve always taken the public transport. We may be earning our own dough, but there’s still public transport. To me, the Mumbai local had come to represent all the festering ills of this city. It had come to represent the stashing of whole souls in a compartment so tight, that by the time we left, we had lost a bit of the sacredness is us. All this until the day Boy sent me a mug with the artwork of the Mumbai local on it. He said it was supposed to remind me where I came from. I plan to keep taking the local until my self-discipline fails.
Talking of self-discipline, I have none of it. I think it leaked away when my bullshit deflector cracked. Every time I have let bullshit get to me it has hurt me in ways that should be forbidden. Who lets people and their bullshit get to them when all one needs to do is be rational about how someone’s else’s incompetence or lack of insight are just their shortcomings, and not your disappointments. I think over a period of time, my bullshit deflector has allowed everything that can bother to go right through; so much that I am unsettled. Since there’s so much unwarranted crap, self-discipline has made a quiet exit. Ideas to get the deflector back up and reinstate self-discipline are urgent, and will be met with a celebratory jump.
Recently, I read two excellent books. They marked the end of a long reading hiatus. In some ways, they were like the promised land. Nothing that came before was as good. There have been varied reasons for not writing as much. Specially since the word count of the book went up only by 600 words since last time. Reading these books has thawed that a little. How much, one can’t say. But I have realised one thing, I want to replace the friend with whom I discussed books. So, I’m looking for a new friend who will love reading as much as I do, and share experiences with me. Anyone?
They say accepting a situation is helping yourself get over the struggle with how the situation makes you feel. Okay, they don’t say it, this is my interpretation of the acceptance theory. However, I find that very hard to do these days. On some days I’ve found myself fervently thinking that this isn’t a trait I would like to imbibe. I want to be able to accept something so that I can just swing my leg over it and walk on. I want that nonchalance. You’re a douche? Okay. Swing leg over the hurdle and walk away. You stepped on my shoes? Okay. Swing my leg over the hurdle and walk away. See? It should be that easy. But it isn’t.
It just isn’t that easy to be a good person. Being a fair person is out of the question. A fair person is like Cinderella. It’s a fairy tale. It’s bewildering that being a good person is such hard work. Why should it be? Happiness, goodness, love, faith – these are the things that are said to weigh out the bad, save the world, even. Then why should it be hard? This is a question that I know I can keep turning in my mind and I still won’t have a satisfactory answer. So, one must love the question and to roll it inside the right words so that it tastes delicious, I quote Boy when he said to me, “We’re the universe experiencing itself. Why would it take the hard way?”