Feel a bit like the pianoman in some derelict forgotten bar. But its comfortable inside. And nippy out there. At least this is a familiar feeling.
It's 3:53 am in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, 29 October.
As usual, I'm up. My 6 hours of sleep ticked off.
Except that I feel a little more fidgety than before. I guess this too shall pass.
Checked my phone out of sheer instinct. While doing so, my mind wrote:
Like a coffin lowered gently into memory's grave,
A number sinks deeper down my 'last dialled' list.
It's been 10 days now.
Like I had predicted, I am returning back to my hermit past. The perks of being an introvert. Loneliness is second skin. Very little human contact now, may be just 4-5 calls all put together in the past 10 days. (As I type, I'm listening to a track called Main Jahaan Rahoon, where Rahat sings "Kehne ko toh yeh duniya saath chalti hai, par chupke se, iss dil mein, bas tanhai palti hai".)
Makes me wonder, am I ok with this loneliness? Thing is I've never noticed it. Not in the past, not now. Or maybe it always bothered me, and I just ignored it through booze.
Will give it a think. It depends on how one uses this loneliness. If one turns to crutches, it feels lonesome. If one introspects, it becomes solitude. Powerful solitude.
The coolness of this solitude is allowing me to lift various shrapnels and burnt embers and really inspect them more closely than I ever have. The will to resist crutches is allowing me to do this. For both these things --- strength and self-awareness --- I'm grateful to You.
There's a video going around that I chanced upon (yes, thank you, Facebook!), on how boys don't cry and why it fucks things up for them and for the people in their lives.
I could relate to that. It's probably why I turn to booze so readily. I had an interesting and brief debate recently with someone on what's easier to deal with for a woman: Type A - anger/rudeness/violence or Type B- alcoholism? Both are common coping mechanisms for emotionally-challenged men. I have only met Type B. Anyway, I will examine this for myself first and blog about it. Maybe in the blog about boozing.
The last week was predictably rough. Let me get the ugly truth out of the way first.
I drank. On the night preceding Diwali. And on this Sunday. So it's 2 days out of 10.
Aberrations. Weakness. I recognize it as a weakness. I am working on it without self-flagellation.
The good news is that I'v been alone since Sunday. So three days of solitude later, my mind is at peace and the urge to drink has died.
Now that oceans separate us, there's room to breathe again. It scares me, the amount I love being left alone.
I must conquer this easy surrender to provocation. I must get to the stage where I do not allow her to provoke me to anger. As long as I allow it, I'll be a slave. I have no control on others. All I can control and direct, is my own mind, and my own actions. In that, there is true power. And I'm recognizing it. No matter what the indignity, my dignity and self-control should tower above that.
And yet, no matter how my honesty affects others, I must retain the courage to express myself without fighting for it. That too, takes self-control: to stand by the truth without fear or fanaticism.
Self-control. Takes discipline.
Discipline is one of the 3 things I constantly chant or seek these days, when I pray or after meditating, or in thoughts and deeds.
The other two being Gratitude and Compassion. (I was going to chant Equanimity, but I doubt the Universe keeps a GMAT thesaurus.)
How is it playing out in my actions?
Ok, let's pen it down.
- I have been meditating every day. Praying every single time too.
- I have resisted drinking on 8 out of 10 days (yay - see how I can look at stats more positively ;)
- I worked my butt off this weekend on 4 ongoing commitments -
- Taher for the new script,
- Rajat for closing the freelance project
- Sunil for the ADS launch branding
- and Madu, for the Mobile App project proposal.
- I am sticking to my resolve to read good stuff every night and jotting down thoughts in my diary. (Current high - Marcus Aurelius' Meditations.)
- I am ensuring thatVara Prasad, Uday and the Gig Music School guys help/entertain/teach the girls at JMJ Sneha Sadan. Taking them there this Saturday.
- Talking to people, who need hearing, with discipline - Riz, Anjali
- In the last 10 days, I'm grateful I got to finally watch Gangs of Wasseypur. And wow. Or rather, wowie! (#smilingtoselfatthememory) I havent watched too many better hindi movies in my life. A full review will follow soon. But felt good. A rare private indulgence, watching my kinda movies on my laptop, undisturbed. Shouldve done this years ago.
- I'm also grateful that on Diwali, I could still manage to take a movie date out for myself to watch Haider solo. (Oh what total crap this movie was. Waiting to shred it apart in a review. Should send it to Aseem Chhabbra and get his feedback. #notetoself: Movie reviews - another side to life/writing that I discovered the ATC route.)
- And everyday in my prayers, I'm grateful for the things within myself that I learnt in this journey, that I was helped to learn. I'm grateful to God for keeping me sane in a world driven mad by who's right and who's wrong.
- I am grateful that Zuri's limited palate now extends to eggs. Must cook her some more.
- And finally grateful to Sunil/Atiya to come over this diwali to our house. Needed it. Seeing Zizou all excited and lighting 'boochakkam' up with me, was priceless. After a day of grown-up gunfire, lighting a bhoochakram with a 2-year old felt cathartic.
PS. Finally, per tradition, some music. This is 'Sunshine of your love' by the superband called Cream, also fronted by Eric Clapton. Their lead Jack Bruce died last week. Watch this video - a rare one, from their last concert together before they split up. Useful commentary too.
PPS: I've surrendered to Her, but it's She's who's clinging on to me. Which is perfect. Try snatching that, Buddha. Hahahaha.