Friday, November 04, 2005

On a sunny friday morning...

I yawn out of bed at 7.45, fully aware that i've to be at my office at 9, wading through a 30 minute traffic. Im growing lazy day by day but it's okay, i can afford laziness at times. The weekend is nearby and my body is used to this routine. Need time to make it alert.

I have a quick shower all along trying to be alert and awake. Read a concept and trying a bit to implement it. Watchfullness! Be a witness! Hmmm! I stand before the mirror and gaze at the rough face that desperately needs a shave. This face is not me. It belongs to me. Like the blue shirt i'm wearing. This face and the body belong to me--they aren't me. Rubbish. Nope, not exactly. Rubbish, only at the superficial level. Profound if really experienced. How to experience? How tough!

I'm ready and munching my way through two chappatis and brinjal sabji that mom has put together. She's on the nearby sofa, leisurely reading today's paper. Dad watches yesterday's match highlights on TV. My mind wanders between the food i'm gulping, the sixers dhoni is belting, the ticking wallclock and the warm sun outside signalling the end of a fortnight's rain. I'm apprehensive for no reason-- like an errant schoolboy who hates school. I've some document reviews to finish today. Don't feel like going to office. Feel like meditating for a couple of hours, read the collection of bret harte's stories and sleep for half a day. Remember Archu's going to her native today. Should be at the station before 6 in the evening. Should ask for permission to leave early in the evening. What if there's work load? What if the team leader refuses to let me go early? Tea's getting cold. Another sixer--the winning one by Dhoni. Dad looks pleased although he's watched this match yesterday. Success brings a smile-- even if it isn't your success.

Bangalore's cold and warm--it looks confused. There's less traffic today. Ymmm it's ramzan but we don't have an off. Many of my muslim colleagues were on fast last month, and they will be absent today. Dust everywhere. My bike needs a service. Traffic signal. A biker speeds off and the police man notes down his number. What next? Will he send a notice to that guy's address? 80 seconds more. Impatience everywhere. Hurrying to go somewhere, reach somewhere. Time! So important. Save time by rushing. Then what? What to do with the saved time? Nobody seems to know. It looks like a stupid question to ask? What do you do with all the damned saved time? What? Watch a stupid teleserial? Or lie down for another hour in bed worrying about... 10 seconds...

The office building looks sleepy. Maybe it woke up just now and the sleep is still in it's eyes. No, it's me who's still sleepy and sloppy. Less people today. The security guards stand outside, smiling and alert. They are a mystery to me. They do nothing but stand and watch people, stay alert, get bored(?), do minor errands-- do they ever think of job satisfaction, job security, skill upgradation, making a difference? What's their salary? One of them greets me and i wave back. He knows me. He'd helped me park my car last month when it rained heavily all day long and i'd no option but to take out the car.

I say hello to my team members and sit at my desk. The coffee is already on my table. I click start the system and as it springs to life slowly, i contemplate a bit. Then i write all of this.

4 comments:

  1. What a beautiful and insightful post that was. Whether the clear mental images that snippet produced were accurate I guess I will never know, but it was strangely touching nevertheless.

    Thank You

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  2. b and p,
    Thanks.
    I know someone who wrote like this; it was very raw at times but somehow very very magnetic. I guess he wrote from his heart--without thinking. I take on others' style at times, just to break the monotony. And enjoy reading it too.

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  3. I really like the style of this post.
    Hurrah for spontaneous writing because it is very true to the moment. Twas a recent passage from Atwood I read that the writing a reflection can never really be accurate to the event, but I think if one can get close if one jots it down like this.

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  4. Sankie,
    Spontaneous writing has a zen like quality to it--it's highly effective when written just to get something out of you. One should try it at moments of turmoil--it's both theraupetic and makes for good reading later.

    ReplyDelete