This year certainly changed my DNA more
than any other time period I stretch to recollect. Never before have I
confronted such on the edge vulnerability; I was a whisker away from
destitution this year. There was a real prospect of having to vacate the Besant
nagar apartment; the choke of money supply would have killed a dog.
These lessons are drilled on the mind.
Fear is a useful emotion to anchor those lessons on the mind. I can no longer
afford to forget them for the reminder of my existence. Many lessons but this
would sum it up: I now consider myself more a content writer than a creative
writer. Now my mind suddenly feels commonplace. Earlier I would revel in
the freedom of the moment; I set my own rules of conduct and choose my own
crowd. Now I know better – I am just another mediocre guy who was pretender.
I
divide 2013 into three segments: the first four months saw me at my creative
best. Being in India Cements is a
creative writer’s dream. Having Damien, the world’s worst bully on one hand
and Manikandan, a world-class communicator on the other, got my mind ticking.
My mind wove so many tales; I wrote voraciously filling in a lot of scrap
books. Every day living is monotonous but rarely does a place feel supercharged
for stories. That’s why I rate my ten months stay at ICL as the most
satisfactory stint in my two decades work experience.
The
next four months, May to August, saw me more in a contemplative mood. I went
heavy on Vipassana, the writing too continued from the momentum of ICL. But
waiting for a job broke my back. But when September dawned and I was still
nowhere near a job; that’s when my mind went frantic to primal fear.
In
these months of fear and despair, I felt no more than dry leaf in a gale storm;
I am essentially powerless and useless. That
got in humility in huge doses. With just survival being the sole
purpose of living, it got in much perspicuity. Everything became superfluous
when your mind worries on the next month’s earning. Paradoxically the best time
for learning for bitterest truths is when every pretence and cloak is dumped
– nothing matters more than a job even if it is under a tyrant. I
have never reached such depths of humility before. I now feel like a lamb on a
line for slaughter.
But
destiny works in mysterious ways. I found a lot of friends from whom I borrowed
faith and perseverance. There were so many who said,” Sathya, you are bloody
good and good things take time. It seems God does not wish to give you smaller
pleasures but waiting to dish out happiness in such quantities that you’ll be
swamped.” This is what T H Iyer would say during daily walks at the Eliot’s,
Ramakrishnan would write that on a mail four times a week, Prabhakar always
takes my best situation perspective even when my house is on fire!! But one
person who never gave up on me was Viji, my sister, despite adding a
daughter-in-law to the calling list. Even Thangam, my cook, believes,” Your
good days will be back. God tests those HE likes, so don’t despair. Have faith and hold fort!"
I
believe it was daily practice of Vipassana that saved me from complete ruin.
Guitar fills the greater part of the day. It is a blessing to call Manisha and
speak to her mother. She has a sweet tongue I have not seen since my
grandmother from the Black and White era. Vivek from Saharanpur had a good word
to spare. I would feel distressed when Vivek succeeded as a writer (the good
doctor runs a hospital otherwise) while my slate was empty. I would constantly
tell him not to interact and yet he would keep in touch – such good-naturedness
is hard to explain in our cynical times. And finally Ranga with a sage's
calmness as my Titanic had begun to sink. Even my mother pitched in by staying
for a week each month for four months in a row.
Now
I work for a SAP implementation company on a decent pay packet; I also
freelance for a memorabilia company and they offer a fantastic return. Both
these add to better even the WWM+Neted earnings; I have not been in these
regions since 2008. There is also an offer from a Abu Dhabi advertising agency
and work permit being processed. So you could say a miracle is cooking in
November and December. I also added “Laughter yoga” the last month and it is
already reaping a good harvest. The mind is vulnerable and it needs a spark
plug to keep it buzzing.
I
realized another thing. Being Sathya gets a kind of respect I am beginning to
fear; so many people I admire and wish well for me. They believe in me as a
person than I can ever confer it on myself. It is this faith I borrowed in
these months when my bottom fell out. It is a slow recovery, but thank goodness
for the lessons in modesty and humility.
I even think this depression is worth it weight in gold considering the gains. But the stench of death was never too
far from the nostrils, it was close sadly. Now that there is sunshine I should
do well to remember a bank clerk's attitude of servility at work.