170421 – Meditations

Woke up late. Couldn’t find the words. Struggled to write. But got in a few words none the less.

9:02 AM. Yeah. Really. I woke up about 10 minutes ago. What can I say, I am living a thug life!

So morning meditations. Things clouding my head. Without any order, here’s a list. And the “solutions”.

A. In most relationships, I tend to give a lot more than I want to receive. You know, low expectations. However, at times most times, even the little I expect does not materialize. And it sucks. It’s a recurring pattern that I have seen time and again with multiple relationships, businesses and transactions. Of course, if there is are recurring incidents, I must be at fault. So, I need to fix this. Dunno what else to say.

Further, I think I survive on this give and take (even if my “take” is insignificant) and I start hurting when this “transaction” is not complete. I have literally lived my life to help others and yet I am told that I am not around when people need me. It just plain sucks. Takes the air out of me, like you know, I got sucker-punched in a bout that was supposed to be a mere conversation. So that.

B. I realized yesterday that I am so so lucky on so many counts. I have enough to eat. I have a comfortable enough house. I have some great relationships. My family is safe in these times. I am generally a cheerful, helpful person that’s mostly on the right side of the law and society. And yet I seem to spot and then crib about things that I don’t have. Now that’s a good thing – you want to do better and I am anyway inspired by fear more than by greed. But I think I woke on this negative reinforcement to a fault. I may need to tame it.

So that. Surprisingly two things. When I set out to write, I thought I would have more. Funny I am. So, here’s the streaks.

  • Morning Pages / Meditations – 125
  • #aPicADay – 106
  • 10K steps a day –0 because of the lockdown, I am unable to get the two hours out to walk 10K steps 🙁
  • OMAD – 0
  • #noCoffee – 38
  • #noCoke – 38
  • 10 mins of meditation – 3
  • #book2 – 0
  • Killer Boogie – 0
  • Original Work (limited time only) – 1

And here’s the original work. I will write for an hour. It’s 9:26 on the clock and I will write for an hour. However, I still don’t have a coherent story idea in my head. Let’s see if it emerges as I write. Here we go…

Day 2

Satish stirred as he woke up with a heavy head. It had become a recurring pattern. He would stumble back to his house after spending hours and drinking bottles of hooch at the dance bar. No, he was not an alcoholic per se. He was forced to order something while he sat there and admired Janki. One of the backup dancers at the bar. She was not the prettiest. She was not the one with the best moves. She was not the one to dress provocatively. Even on the days when she was dressed the best, she could pass off as a regular woman in the chawl that Satish lived in. There were clearly more and shinier objects of affection that Satish could lust over. And yet Satish seemed to have a thing for her. Lust works in funny ways.

Satish was not a bad man otherwise. He was a graduate and held a respectable job as a security guard at a bank. He even could speak a few words in English if there was a need. He got lot of people from his chawl to get their accounts open at the large bank that were otherwise inaccessible to people like that.

That’s the thing. For people like that, everything was ok. The battles are of survival and not for love or honor or whatever. These words don’t mean a lot when you know that you need to be up at 4:30 and you’d have to walk 3 KMs to stand in a long queue to fetch two buckets of water that you would use during the day. At that time, honor could a hike. Pain could take a pause. Love becomes a long-forgotten thing that happened only in films. Or at these dimly lit dance bars.

Even though Satish was now a regular at the dance bar and he had made no bones about his affection for Janki, apart from him, everyone knew that Janki was not into him at all. Maybe he had an inkling as well. May be not.

But he was back. Day after day. Night after night. To stake claim at the tiny table placed bang in the middle of the hall and ogle at Janki, even when there were other pieces at display. The only time he would saunter his gaze to others was when she would disappear towards the back of the stage to change her costume or take a break.



  1. The words did not flow. I think getting up late is the reason. Must ensure that I sleep on time so that I can wake up on time.
  2. These pieces I write, these are great narratives. But they do not look like or dead like a film script. So that needs to change. I need to reduce the wordiness. And shape these like a script. I am not chasing a book here, you know.

So yeah. That. Was a struggle but that’s it for the day. Over and out.

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