Picture this – I work from home, without colleagues. R works from office, clocking in 12-13 hours a day (hell yeah, he is clearly changing the world). When he does get home, there is a lot of conversation, some comfortable silences, and diving head first into mangoes. None of the constant, incessant bitching about my bosses, my clients, my colleagues. Those bitching sessions feel like a lifetime ago.
There are some weeks when I don’t see the outdoors five days in a row. It is almost June and apart from a trip back home to Bombay, one to Gujarat on work, and another mini getaway in Wayanad, I haven’t had a proper holiday.
I have spent the last six months (almost), holed up in my house writing my heart out. Well, writing, researching, writing a little more. Reading. Listening to music. Having miles long conversations with old, old friends, about happiness, contentment, life, perspective, lessons, an odd judgments, a ton of jokes, some nostalgia. Some days, I go out and meet people for long, lazy lunches in the middle of the week in the middle of the day. My weekends though, feel no different from what they used to be like some months ago, except I no longer feel the need to drown my angst against authority and unnecessary, outdated rules in scotch, sometimes beer.
The TV is rarely switched on unless there is something very compelling I have been meaning to watch.
On some rare days, I cook. Even more rarely, I bake. Even more rarely, I do some yoga.
In a previous lifetime, I’d have lost my mind by now but barring some PMS-y episodes, I’ve been walking around with a spring in my step. Of course it took a fair bit of consciously ignoring the news sharers and arguers and trolls and troublemakers and the social media feminists who just won’t stop talking about their first world problems, with zero perspective on what real repression looks like but shitloads of privilege. It was only so I could make up my own mind about things. I am far from it, still. But at least the projected angst against this unjust world has disappeared.
The good part about this lack of real, flesh and blood people around me constantly is that I am excitedly looking forward to two family dos coming up in the next 20 days or so. The old certainty that vacations where the extended family has any role to play are a waste of time, is now old news! In spite of all the heartburn one of them promises to be, with its regressive opinions, insensitive jokes and the special kind of scorching heat the Great East has been blessed with. Because hey, the food’s going to be great, the conditioning runs deep, and sometimes, between being warm, kind, and content and being correct, being warm, kind, and content is not such a bad thing.
And just like that, I seem to have made my peace with stillness. WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME!?