Chapter XIX: The Lousy Law of Attraction

I open with an observation. There's not a better way to wake up than an out-of-control bladder pressure. The last 25 days have taught me that. How?

So I have been travelling 110 Km daily to and from office after I was finally looped in a project which wanted me to function from the STP Campus. It was quite a conundrum when it all began. After a drought of 9 months, I was being offered something. But it required me to travel very far or even consider evacuating the house and the housemates whom I have eventually fallen in love with, to go live in the heart of Hyderabad and out of this village. It asked for a lot of weighing in but I decided to go with the flow. There's a strange kind of optimism about accepting things as they unfurl, isn't there? 

So now my days begin at 6am and end at 11:30pm and the safest bet on waking without relying on my phone alarm is to drink loads of water before hitting the hay and let the nephrons in my kidneys do the magic.

About the project, I did seize the opportunity thinking it'd be cool to finally start working! The thought of travelling 4 hours daily excited me. I am a loony chap, after all. Incontestably. If one is receptive enough, travelling can teach you a lot many things:

1) You learn to sleep in uncomfortable seats, in which your long legs hardly fit and you swear at the thought of getting knee caps each time the brakes are hit. But believe me you, that episodic sleep is the sweetest. You wake up smiling and can even see the angels flying away with their harps slowly into the light.

2) You realise that you repeatedly skip your favourite songs from your music library and have started to enjoy some utterly meaningless music like Dilliwali Girlfriend. Travelling at night by office cab also involves singing the same crappy songs out loud when among your equally weary chums.

3) You accept the unexpected! Your body starts cheating on you; something that you never imagined! No matter how lively and energetic your inner child is, to your body that means nothing. ZERO! The next thing you know is you are buying pain relieving spray for your back that's gone so bad that you can't even bend in a way to see what area of the urinal you are aiming at.

4) Talking of urinals, travelling made me realise that even in pain, roadside signs provide too many reasons for you to smile. At Secunderabad, my bus daily runs parallel to walls that have "Don't Pass Urinals" and "Don't Uring" painted in black on them. It is in that ephemeral second that I forget the work worries and the pain in my back. It's at moments like these when I start believing in the existence of God.

5) Travelling's taught me that the probabilities of two events happening in my life are same and close to zero. E1 : Not having a migraine as the day progresses. E2 : Having the only hot chick you spotted waiting for the same bus to be seated with you. Slim chances! I've given up now and have got accustomed to sitting with a sweaty bloke and to our broad shoulders not allowing either of us to sit comfortably.

So like every morning  as music gives me company (and sometimes strangers complaining about the distance and the effect it has on their lives), it was on one fine day that I couldn't get The Secret documentary out of my head. I drifted into imagining what I really wanted.

 

 

Thought 1: A new phone, a replacement to my grossly old Nokia E72? Wouldn't it be fancy to shift to some OS that is not from the biblical era? On second thought: No way I'm blowing up my money on a phone, I'm all fine with this aging one. So what its keys have lost their markings! So what it's endured many falls! It still serves the purpose, does it not?

Thought 2: A large library with every book I ever wanted to buy? Oh the smell of new books is like an orgasm! On second thought: That could wait for a while, if I get it fulfilled then who'll buy me time to dive into them because even Dumbledore's dead!

Thought 3: Pet a dachshund and a Persian cat. On second thought: Oh well, who am I kidding!

Thought 4: Sorcery to prevent everything I eat from accumulating around the tummy that only makes me look like a kid with Kwashiorkor? On second thought: A girl who would only fall in love with that body and not my beautiful tortured mind will be no good anyway!

Thought 5: A piece of somebody's mind? Somebody who's exceptional! On second thought:
More than that, I'd value peace of mind. I'd really want a family reunion - my sisters, my parents and I - under one roof, the small Rajpura house becoming one big boisterous circus.

Every morning eying my parents from the window inside, sipping the first round of their early morning tea-marathon in the verandah sitting in the breeze by the plants, with my father going through the newspaper and my mother feigning interest in whatever news he would begin to narrate. 

How he would inundate me with investment ideas and drag me to post office and banks every day I stay without fail. You can tell that punctuality is what I've got from his side when I hear him say my name at 7am to start getting ready for bank that opens at 10. He'd inject me with confidence when all walls close in. He doesn't know how comforting it is when he'd say over the phone that he's got my back, that I should quit worrying and have fun, eat well and forget about everything. Nothing assures me more. He's a hero.

I can't wait to taste food cooked by my mother even if it's something as simple as  Khichdi. I am totally tired of what I get here. Even the STP campus is no good. I want to witness the hell broken loose in the kitchen with my eldest sister managing everything single-handedly which is quite a sight to see. Then try asking the sister number 2 a yoga asana for pain-relief and she would run the entire gamut teaching you as long as you don't tell her to stop. Passion truly is blind. I also just can't wait to hear my youngest sister address Papa like only she does, observe her taking on with the job of a new mother, witness her changing nappies and talk in that irritating baby-language,  to hear her nonpareil commentary on events and the residents of our colony.

 

What fun it'd be to take dad's case ganging up on him with all my brothers-in-law.  I want to see my father become a child again when it comes to having dessert. It's funny how he'd argue relentlessly on having tea without sugar but then unflinchingly welcome another serving of ice-cream. 

This is what I want with my family

I want to witness the fights the kids get into waiting for their turns on using the internet on my ancient laptop. The high-staked games of cards, the sleepless nights playing Tambola, getting in a one-on-one 'Where are you going on with your life?' discussion with my sisters separately (and my father snubbing me with 'He just doesn't listen, I have just stopped bringing the topic up' in between while my mother defends me at every stage further infuriating my old man). I crave the chaos.

But nothing overpowers my longing to hold my youngest nephew in my arms and teach him a word or two. He'll be able to crawl when he'll come see us, and I can't wait to follow him around from room to room. See him smiling in real and not just through Skype.

I'd also want to go catch a movie with my sisters (sans the kids). Since that's like a snowflake's chance in hell and I'd later come to terms with that. Everything that I have envisioned above will undeniably require a LOT of 'coming to terms with'. Because here we are all, in different cities (and some on another continent),  entangled in our own lives.

Ain't no reason to worry about

And my project release requires me to stay in Hyderabad for Diwali (till November), which means that I can only see my parents (and my nephew) in December. After 13 cruel months. Dramatic sigh! Boo!

I know it's the kind of love I'll never lose but this separation in time and distance is a bitch. I'm assured that time will fly. It always has. So I won't stop dreaming these dreams because it's the love for each other we got wrapped around our hearts that keeps me wool-gathering. Why quit running all those images in my mind over and over again till they really happen? It gives me a reason to look forward to something, whenever I find myself cornered by work and hectic hours. 

The Secret professes to "Ask, Believe, Receive". I think that I've done two-thirds of the job well, and the remaining is not in my hands. Hey Universe, better start conspiring to make all that happen already, you! I'm counting on you.