Wednesday, May 16, 2007

why worry wanton wart?

Of late I’ve stopped reading books of any intellectual significance. Its complete sacrilege as far as my reading choices go. See, I was the type that you wouldn’t even catch reading commercially intelligent books like Catch 22 or Paulo Coelho. I’d have ‘Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch’ or ‘Slaughterhouse Five’ positioned in my lap. I was that pig headed a pedantic snob. Somehow over the last few years though, maybe because of the lack of time when I was on shoots or maybe because you felt it was time to experience life rather than read about it, the erudition slipped out of my hand and started collecting dust on a forgotten shelf.

I do believe though, that the city got to me. How can you possibly attempt a cerebral moment when most of your life is mired in survival. Worrying. That’s the symptom of Survival Disease.

Worrying about the rent, worrying about the deposit, worrying about reaching work on time, worrying about who you’ll hang out with after work, worrying about where to order food from, worrying about the carcinogens in the Maggi you have practically every night, worrying about work deadlines, worrying that you’re not doing anything about those deadlines, worrying about getting sacked, worrying about acne, worrying about too many men, worrying about no men, worrying about delayed periods, worrying about why he didn’t call, worrying about what to wear to poison tonight, worrying about not looking too dressed up for Toto’s, worrying about the taxi driver taking you to a dark alley at 3 am and raping you, worry about the auto driver killing you in peak hour traffic, worrying about worrying.

Somehow life didn’t start off like this. It had a house and parents and siblings and packed lunch and cheap auto rides and movies for 25 rupees.

So now when I step into the Crossword on Turner road, I read the backs of books very intensely. Words like ‘single’, ‘big city’, ‘sex’, ‘unrequited love’ jump up at me. I thrive on books that mirror my life. I know that it’s a silly thing to do.. How can seeing someone in the same situation; change or even mildly entertain you? But it does.

You read about another single, attractive, 20 something, workaholic girl in a big city and it warms your heart in a way nothing else does. Just the knowledge that this, is ok, is experienced by many before you and will be experienced by many after. That you’re not committing some mortal sin by staying away from the parental coop, and doing naughty things with boys and not getting married, and feeling deceptively full…this…your life…is OK!

2 comments:

Shalena said...

Yes company in misery is quite comforting, yet not the solution. So if hearing people around me are just as miserable or worried as I am, simply is'nt a consolation to me. Infact it depresses me further and gets me thinking on the lines of what is the point of life, if it is a struggle or is it just who sees it that way. Basically I think we all are keeping ourselves busy to avoid the eternal pain of "Wanting more" or "what I have is not good enough". Infact what I actually have is never looked at because what I want is always the prime point of focus. So in avoiding the actual "misunderstanding", we create tiny problems around ourselves which may not necessarily be a problem and try to solve it. Coming to the misunderstanding, which is the biggest blunder according to me is..."This is not good enough" So when something like this gets me I remember what my mom told me as a child, "Count your blessings she said. When I would cry about being fat she would say at least you have legs, some don’t. It’s not about positive thinking here. It’s about gratitude. An unsatisfied mind will remain in that state forever. It’s just the focus that keeps changing.
It takes courage to stand out even in pain; it takes courage to stand away from company that enjoys its misery masked as fun. It’s all very subtle.

Anonymous said...

Hi. This is Prabha. Im not one to bother reading a blog. A wrong click got me here. You write well Kaveri. Fact that Im gonna bother to go read your other articles say it I guess. Take care.