In Knowing

I did not take part in NaNoWriMo this year. In fact, I haven’t written anything substantial since NaNoWriMo 2014. That was the last time I closed 35000 words on my book. It has been lying so ever since. I did not finish the script I was writing with Boy. He left, as you would know. I also stopped writing poetry. Completely. Resolutely. From the time I wrote about Oranges to the time I am studying about O’Hara on Coursera, who wrote about them too, I have come a long, wordless way. I am a part of the NaNoWriMo India group and I see the posts by various people and the extremely funny memes. I make it a point not to panic. I don’t resist my urge to not-write. It will come. I know.

We walked up a steep incline the other day. Out of the four people, I was the only one who wasn’t panting. All the (power) yoga and zumba seems to be working. I do have some pains and aches, sometimes in my chest and my head like I used to have when I was severely unwell. And I think I have broken the littlest toe. The left leg’s littlest appendage is swollen and whenever I hit it against something else, it blows up like a balloon. So far, it has happened twice. However, I have made it a point not to see a doctor. The last doctor that I saw said to me, “Stop going to doctors,” so that’s what I am going to do. More than just a heady piece of advice, I have decided health should come to me. I won’t eat medicines. I won’t get my panties in a twist about an ache and a pain. I eat well. I exercise. I will be whole. I know.

I was supposed to travel next week and take some time off. Due to humans being humans, and me being me, the plan stands cancelled as of this moment. Earlier this year, I had expressed my desire to not to get on a plane for a long time. (This blog has been witness to my illness after I returned and the trauma thereafter.) Quite honestly, I have been hauling myself for a long time. I felt like Atlas, goddammit. So, after I got better, I decided not to push anything anymore. No plane travels, coz I am sick of them. No rushing, no hurrying. (Trains I am open to.) And, for a change, just laying down my armour and letting it all go. So, since the next week’s trip was getting too difficult to pull through, I just let it all go. I won’t fight for anything. I won’t push my way through. I will not struggle anymore. I will float. I know.

We had a very quiet Diwali week. I have loved this week. The scarce people on the road, in office, inside my shoes, it has been amazing. Although my laptop died, I had it resurrected by the friendly IT staff. Ever noticed how people are more helpful if they have less customers? I notice this all the time when I do my shopping on weekdays. The few of us had elaborate lunches in quietude and splendor. And then, I bought myself glasses and tea-lights to decorate my window on Diwali nights. It was such a glorious day. It was such a colorful night. I don’t like festivals just as I don’t like people. They’re a lot of effort. And I don’t like dressing up. With what the entire state of our country over tolerance is, it reaffirms in me just how meaningless we’ve made organized religion. However, I think the lights were the tinkle on the bow that was this week. I won’t subscribe to the growing unrest. I won’t be anything I am not. I will be guided by the fairy lights. I will burn bright. I know.