Today I realise that I have lost my ability to write.
After reading some blogs mainly
Loony's I think I should just give up blogging all together. Even her stream of consciousness posts which seem to talk about nothing talk about so much. When there isn't much to talk about she talks about her education which is literature. If nothing interesting there are at least people in your book, characters, writers, saying something, describing events. SOMETHING! What can I say about my education? That people in my class hoard notes like its gold or platinum. No one in my class wants to know more than the teacher wants to say and if i ask for more, I'm wrong. I know I understand this kind of behaviour and should have been able to work my way around it by now. But no! I don't understand this kind of behaviour.
I rarely whine on my blog, at least I believe that, so today I shall whine.
Talk about all that Bombay is. The rush , the stench , the never ending ques, the loneliness and the worry that covers every face, even when we are not aware of it. We are not consciously worried that's it, we are not worried about something, it has merged with our existence and from people we are now worriers. Our job: to worry. About? About the bills, the tickets, the food, the ques, the time rushing by, the man in front of us, the man behind us, the man who makes more money, the daughter who has pimples. We worry regardless of good or bad for we think under every good thing lies a box, a jack-in-the-box out to punch you. This worry makes us mark our boundaries, mark limits. Outline the yours and the mine. So you don't step this close and I don't come here. Anyone who is unaware of these rules gets abused in our language so he/she doesn't even know. That's why we are
the ruddest city in the world. I agree we are. We don't even have fake politesse anymore. Smiles are taxed so we don't smile. If you don't get a rude word from us its your lucky day. Well
that's what being
polite is, avoiding the bad. I avoid stepping on your toes and I'm
poilte. If I bump into you I don't know what to say. What could one say! We don't have these words in our dictionaries? Oh yes we do. But who has the time to be polite, and if we do , we are so uncool. Being in a rush and having the stale oil
wada pav is part of our culture, part of our heritage and spirit. We love to run around and pose as the city which never sleeps. Who says we shouldn't? What's so great about waking up groggy and sporting dark circles like a fancy tan.
The truth is that this is our life. From the lowest rung of the ladder to the highest we are not people who are born liking the fact that we have no time, but then it grows into us. By time I also mean a life that we are content with, comfortable in , able to provide and do things we like to do. Initially we have to find jobs, make money, study, classes,
tuitions etc, by then its just part of us. Constantly discontent, lonely, irritated and ready to blame the next soul around us.
For people who's lives lack activity Bombay is a lively city. Full of life. Everyone is busy, occupied and doing something. These very phrases I dislike. Someday I just want to be able to not be doing anything, just see life, observe it. Just sit and be able to know the people around me not as a function towards me, not as my teacher, my watchman, my driver but as a person. How often can a city like Bombay afford that? How often can you tell your teacher in class that its
OK if she drifts away from Plato and the critics to tell you more about his life. Or more about someone
else's life which is interesting. Why do we only feed ourselves with information which is relevant. What about the stories that are lost every minute. Mine and yours. The ones unrecorded because we don't have the time.
We are lives not functions. I'm not just your student who is late for class everyday. There is a reason why that happens. Would you care to know? We are people who live, feel, breathe and sense. We are people who are hurt, who want to love, who can love. I'm not here for academic excellence if it doesn't mean anything in my life. If I sulk everyday that I can't have a decent conversation with another soul why do I care about my MBA results? I don't go to college sometimes to save up on pocket money. Its costs to travel. If you think this has got nothing to do with the city. Well, it might not have anything to do with it. But there are many like me, all in this cramped and dingy city that smells of fish and sewage like Charles
Dicken's descriptions of London. (London wasn't it?) At the end of my day, no matter how much I rush, how I elbow the person next to me, crawl under people who are too slow and jump over people sleeping on the road I'm just another face in the crowd. Not far ahead of the guy i crawled over. We don't move. We are stuck like the sea.
Another post I choose to not edit.
I have been lazy and busy at the same time. There is a lot of stuff waiting to be scanned. Sketches and drawings. TIME!! Exams coming soon. Blessings welcome.
A walk in the outside this evening made me realize
Now these drawings are making me sick. Love sick. Nepal love sick. I can't write about my trip. Everyday we (M and me) are trying to live a bit of it. I miss Nepal too much. The dogs, the people, the climate, the time, the shopping, the food, the love. I don't like Bombay. I don't like the people, the climate, the time, the shopping, the food. There is no love here for me. I think I left my Knight of Pentacles in Thamel. In the process of accepting my surroundings, will write about the soul search soon.
