Learning on “love” from movies

#140

At times you watch a movie; nothing about it stands out but a couple of dialogues. They make you reflect your own ideas in the head or you could be so carried away that you aver, “If I have an occasion to say this in reality, I certainly would," for a rich dose of impressionism. 

            There is this beautiful scene between Jai and Nayantara in the movie “Raja Rani”. The two lovers go to a church, kneel down to pray between the pews. Jai asks innocently, “Are we made-for-each-other?” She responds brilliantly, “Nobody is made-for-each-other from birth. We become made-for-each-other in the manner we live.”

            Then I watched “Ispade rajavum idhaya raniyum” (King of Spades, Queen of hearts) on Hotstar for even more learning. The hero is a maniac, he gets angry and violent easily for little or no provocation. The audience feels sad for the heroine for choosing such an irascible chap. Gautam is very possessive about Tara and her parents are looking elsewhere for a marriage alliance. This guy is so peeved and works himself to a frenzy; he drags her to a marriage registrar office out of the blue, “Let’s get married now. Just your signature and I can breathe easy.” Tara says, “We did not meet for four days, yet I felt your presence throughout. Now I am with you yet we are a million miles away. Marriage is no guarantee even after sex, the only guarantee for a happy marriage is trust.”

            The hero Gautam keeps threatening her, “You ditch me, I will kill you with a knife.” Tara says, “Don’t speak like a fool. Gautam when you are in love, speak with caution for each of your action is now driving me further away. In love learn to trust and learn to wait.” It so happens that Tara agrees to an arranged marriage brought by her parents but as she is getting dressed in bridal wear her mind revolts. She tells her dad, “No I can’t do it. When it comes to the test, I am still in love with Gautam and my mind can’t accept anyone else.” The story climaxes thus: Gautam learns of Tara’s marriage and comes brandishing a butcher's knife even as she gets off an auto to meet him. She hugs him saying, “I couldn’t go through the wedding for I only love you.” Gautam is now contrite saying, “I don’t deserve you at all. One moment I was about to stab you to pieces,” as he takes off to the mountains in the North for a bit of soul searching: How could I be such a heartless bum ready to plunge a knife on a beloved?" His cellphone shows Whatsapp message from Tara: 4 days I have not seen you. I am sorry. Please connect. She repeatedly keeps messaging: 24 days without speaking or hearing from you. I will always come looking for you. I am now in Himachal Pradesh in search of you. The hero smiles and takes her call as the movie rolls the titles. It was a lousy movie but the plot gripped me and the dialogues.

            After seeing the movie my first reaction was “pUsHpA never loved me at all.” I suffer a lot of nightmares and the themes are invariably the same: failing in exams at the school or university level or I am being kicked out from the house by my parents. pUsHpA doesn’t figure in my slumber but yesterday my mind had this rich video running: I am working in a place where this female is my colleague. I avoid her though placed in her company; there is a hearty chap who keeps probing: Sathya, why do you avoid this female? I tell him, “We were snakes and mongoose in our previous life. And in that encounter the snake came up trumps.”

True Angels

#139

I have done quite a few blogs on CARING; it’s a recurring theme for me. Each time my mind hits on a new insight on CARE, I rush a blog post.

            There is no skill greater on planet earth than the virtue of care – when someone is in physical or emotional pain, to offer a shoulder of support is heavenly. It’s mark of a man. To turn your back is a trait of a devil, no matter how many candles you light in a church or a wick in a temple you deserve a place in a frying pan.  These are the people who make this planet miserable for friends and relations and to those around, I don’t have the tiniest of doubts here.

            I will never forget this instance of CARE. Manohar is an electrician and we became friendly each time I had an assignment for him – times when a fuse would blow out, or even if the bathroom closet does not flush. He is an artist in such matters, he finds solutions no run-of -the-mill guy can even conjure. Like when the water motor was not sucking in water, he used his mobile as torchlight to find any holes in the PVC pipes. I can keep on singing his praises on his professional side but it was this instance that touched my heart. Last year I told him over phone that I sold my apartment. Next day he comes to the house with a long face saying, “I know how lousy and beaten you may be feeling at this phase of life. I was passing through this way and wanted to meet you.” He is not highly educated but few people are blessed with that level of compassion.
            Yesterday I found that my house-owner would not repair the terrace floor. It’s laid with four inches of cementing when all it needs is to be dug up and re-laid with concrete tiles. It’s a job that would cost over 1 lac of rupees but there is a crying need as the rain water leaks into my bedrooms.  No one would pay 21 k for such a house and I told the owner straight, “You repair this, I stay another term. Or else I vacate.”  She is a Sindhi and as tight-fisted as the worst of them. She engaged a mason for another layer of cementing, I wasted not a moment calling her, “I am vacating by the end of November for this house is not worth the 21 k.” She did not argue though she might not find a tenant for months after I am gone. She is a classic: penny wise, pound foolish caricature. 

            The whole night I was fuming at the injustice of life. This morning I had no energy for SPARRC rehabs. I was smoking more in the hope it might induce a brain seizure or a trigger a heart attack. I called Vivek and he gives relief. He said, “Sathya, try Mylapore or T-nagar where you will get food, I am sure you’ll make new friends there. Remember Besant nagar is not the only place on earth.”

            Then I called Dhamma Mani Sir and when I appraised him saying, “I am finally vacating Besant nagar after three decades. Feel a beaten cat, if I had a gun I might have gone for the temple.” He said, “Sathya, try Shubham Ashiana and they have a wonderful property in Maraimalar nagar. Buy a single bedroom for 25 lacs and your monthly food expenses will not stretch beyond 5 k. I had food there last week and it’s fantastic.” Then he added, “Look when I left Ranipet for Mumbai I had the same doubts of relocating to a new place. A few years in Mumbai, there was again a pain of leaving a familiar place. Same thing when we came back to Chennai and now I am at Mogappair happy and content. Maybe if I have to shift from here to a new place, I will not go through similar emotional pangs of attachment. Look at it this way, you have to go from kindergarten to primary, then secondary, then college and then employment and each new place is a challenge to adapt. I am sure you’re strong enough to face them. Look for food, then slowly spread your wings and new friends will come along.”

            Talking to him I was soon laughing and joking. It just took 10 minutes of the phone for him to connect with my feelings and offer a palliative. When you are staying alone even a minor ant bite looks a shark attack as the mind slips into the darkest hell of insecurity and fears. Each time I am feeling real low to a lousy mood, I call a few angels to get my breath back.

            Balakanth was an exceptional human being, multifaceted in many activities. He was the live-wire of any gathering, his humour was spontaneous but what really connected was his caring quotient. When anyone approached him with a problem, the first thing he would say is, “let’s try.” He would go all out to bring solace. Same with Manikandan and this is true leadership quality – to lift someone when they are down in the dumps. It really does not take much but very few people are blessed in the art of caring and connecting.

            For me the worst caricatures in bipeds are those you approach for help and they turn the other way. Like, I am looking for soft skills opportunity and do you know anyone to network me with? Or I am going out of town for a week, can you please collect the laundry?? Or any of the thousand petty things of the demands of living. When I approach a dork* (which I will realize after the chaffing) for assistance and there's a stoic dead-end for a response, the first thing I do is delete their number from my mobile phone. Not that I wish them bad but I don’t want to transact with such worms again. Deleting ensures I will not have access to them for the mind is weak and if my situation gets me drowning more I may be tempted for another round of begging. Even if you have been praying for a god like those asuras and saints in Amar Chitra Katha comics and the skies open up for a proclamation: Sathya, the Lord is pleased with your devotion. He will personally meet you at 7:00 am IST. Imagine the lord coming for the appointment at 7:05 and you’ll lose all respect. If there is one lesson we'll need to imbibe is "CARING for those around" or else we will all die alone and die no better than worms. I learnt this lesson in 2006  from C Subramanian's son (CS was once the Governor of Maharashtra) when I sought his assistance for a contact on a work assignment. I would call him once a week and each time he would say, "Sathya, give me one more week. Call later." Nothing transpired but I happened to run into him as he explained, "Even I have to approach others for help, there's no harm in anybody approaching me. Remember even Lord Rama had to curry favour with Sugreeva as he said to a classic: everyone needs help at one point or the other. We should try to keep the cycle going. 
* meaning of dork is "a contemptible, socially inept person" (North American; informal)

Mumbai Calling

#138

I hate to ramble though many well-wishers wryly observe, “Your blog posts are long, get it in the 500-750 words range.” There is a point there, but if you want even a bit of visual in the read then the words tend to be on higher supply zone.

            First rule of writing is “there must be a well-thought out subject for a blog post.” Second rule is: If you find humour in the daily run, record it for a rainy day. Now we get to this post to find if I can strictly abide by them.

            What makes me a good (let’s say readable) writer is “I think original thoughts, rather they impinge on me when faced with the current of life.” Two, I try to be as concise for brevity is clarity. I was in Mumbai in the month of Feb, 2007 as I started employment in Worldwide Media that manages lifestyle magazines as in a Femina and Filmfare.  I was residing at my sister’s house in Santacruz for three weeks, I found my new colleagues callous, the city mechanical that those three weeks felt a life imprisonment. I told my manager, “Thanks for giving me permission to go back to Chennai, I am taking the earliest morning flight.” She said, “Sathya, Mumbai is not so bad.” Later when discussing this with a friend, he added, “Mumbai is a soulless city.” That metaphor stuck in my mind for a long time till I visited Mumbai in June, 2019. Twelve years is a long time, usually characters of cities don’t change a millimeter in decades for they are as predictable as weather.

            In June, 2019 I saw my thoughts change little by little. In the seven days I spent, I found classmates who were all smiles and banter. Strangely I also felt a lot of people respecting me. The whole lot of intangibles in the unconscious combined and that trip got me singing a new tune: Mumbai is certainly the best city in the India. I tried to capture a bit of transformation in this link

            Then I had another week in Mumbai in July for a Vipassana outing at Igatpuri and I felt a lot of positive vibes about the people and the place which is often intertwined. Last week, I had another week in the maximum city (thrice in three months) and I found a lot of bonding, vibes of friendships and lot of banter and humour. After the Futures course, couple of classmates felt, “Sathya, your skills will be better used in Mumbai. Relocate here if you wish to get somewhere.” I met Dr. Rajaram who seconded, “For your kind of Indian intellect which I must say is “First rate” Mumbai will be your savior city for it is a land of hope." Then he said something like “Mumbai is not a Cape of good hope for it does not resemble a cape, nonetheless potential city of hope for you.” He is a man very fond of words always ready with a smile and way with words.

            Then Ashish Bansal who read that "Futures @ Mumbai" blog post said, “Sathya. Mumbai seems to see virtues in you that Chennai doesn’t. Let that lover affair with the city grow, and if you earn enough in trading you can leave the most negative city in the world to this urban jungle.” The idea sounds great, let me park in the corner of my mind for money will be determining factor.

            But this new stream of respect makes me feel a good person. There is quiet confident feeling inside: maybe I am not such a bad bloke. There are some nice things about me. One of the best things in life is the “power of a genuine compliment”. Even if you are a shade worthier, it propels you in the right direction. What is the converse of “give a dog a bad name and hang it”? Maybe it's “give a dog a good name and it will try to live it up.” That’s what a good environment is all about. It rewards the virtuous or the merest glimpse of it, that encourages the person to dwell deeper. That’s the reason I am an unabashed lover of the Gulf.  Nowhere on earth I fetched compliments like “Sathya is a man of integrity or he is a bloody good writer.” Yesterday my uncle called out of the blue to reinforce this goodness as he said, “I was telling your mother that Sathi can be difficult but if you observe closely his anger is never out of place. There is a righteousness about him, he is incapable of doing wrong. ”

            Let me end this post with this humour. I was telling my OTA friends, “These guys are expanding. Last time I was here; I saw my student adviser dragging a suitcase with lots of packages from Marks & Spencer. She has got the shapliest legs in those short western skirts. Whether I make money or not, at least I am content that she gets to shop in these fancy places thanks to a few idiots like me. Besides I get to see those glossy legs in each of my trips.” That got the biggest laughter as I said poker-faced.  But this blog post is not about her legs but about prospects of relocating to a Mumbai if and when I make money. Enough said.
Post Script for an afterthought: We all need a bit of recognition and care. Mumbai seems to reserve these qualities in these three short visits in a classroom setting. Unless I find an earning source and preferably in a Tamil speaking area - could be Trichy, Coimbatore or Madurai - it makes no sense to relocate though I am fed up to the brim with Chennai. 

Radical Listening

#137

We are all to be pitied for we live in a callous world where CARE is as extinct as dinosaurs. SELFISHNESS and SELF-CENTREDNESS is the age we live in, our parent’s and grandparent’s generation had it a lot better. They at least had siblings to visit and call on them, the earlier generation not only knew their cousins but they kept in regular touch. It was only yesterday I realized the power of RADICAL LISTENING from my interactions with FB friends.

            We mistake ourselves to be our monkey minds where the thoughts flow at astronomical speed, there is no constancy in a thought. The mind in its natural state produces a stream of opposite thoughts, we try to make sense now and then. Say I would like Amitabh Bachchan when I was a kid, today I can’t stand him for two minutes’ watch on television, same story with Gavasker who I idolized in my growing years to the extent that I would keep a score of his test match innings, updating as it went along. Now I wouldn’t care to shake his hands even if he was to visit me at my house. So the premise is “thoughts are valid at a point in time, I have every right to change them” at a mental level and consequentially at an action level. Maybe changing thoughts and actions is referred to as inner growth or else we’ll be no better than animals that come with a built-in constancy.

            In my initial years of BLOGGING I was hot-headed. I would jump on other’s views on politics, religion, language or even start a city war like Mumbai is better than a Chennai. Now older and a lot matured I am not so wedded and bonded to any view on any macro subject. Today if someone were to walk up to me and instigate saying “Buddha is a moron” it will not rile me. Or something equally asinine as “Jesus is the only savior of the world and other religions are dog shit.” These opinions reflect the character and personality of the speaker and not me a passing listener. Neither do I get worked up when some groups love for secularism makes them espouse the Congress family, they have a right to their opinions but I don’t have to subscribe to it. Neither is it fashionable for me to proclaim that Arnab Goswami is a maniac which he undoubtedly is, I don’t have to air such toxic views. There are better things in the world of sights and sounds to converse, like how much I enjoy a walk in the Theosophical Society lawns or how invigorating a boat ride on the Ganges was in Rishikesh or how much I loved Igatpuri. Besides I don’t have to have a subject to harass people with my views and opinions or keep a list of party jokes instead I try to practice present moment awareness.  Increasingly I see that many people - including me - don't know how to use their talking mouth. But each time I goof up, I am aware and come hard on myself.

            I think the greatest gift you can confer the other person in your company is to ACCEPT his/her thoughts without editing or culturing it. They can harbor any thought or feel any emotion, if it gets too heavy you have a right to run for cover but you don’t have a right imposing a contra-view and heckle them by starting a self-imposed education process for them. Radical compassion is listening without interruption; it's saintly patience not to supply a point of view or joggle your memory for a building pressure in the mind for a response. You can listen to them politely and carry on with your life without enforcing your petty views on them. Sure you have as much a right to hold any view on any macro subject but it's churlish to express them at every single opportunity. Just allowing others this little space to be themselves is an act of great kindness and compassion.

            We as Indians suffer from this complex of impressionism (often mistaking a loud talking mouth for intelligence) and conformism of a herd mentality society. But this lack of acknowledgement of others is no excuse for you to shout your way through, it’s boorishness to the extreme. There’s already a lot of noise in any gathering, keeping quiet should be your contribution and soon enough you’ll be respected for it. I have often been guilty of talking about my siblings or a failed romance, sure enough the world is not interested in them even for a gossip value. So any hunt for sympathies is not only a wasted effort but it reflects poorly on me for washing dirty linens in public. I must realize that a talking mouth is not the sole pathway to display my knowledge, wisdom, and how smart I am. It's silence that brings out these aspects to others and never a rattling mouth of a speedy train on rails. 

            My FB posts or blogs do generate a lot of compliments. Not a week goes by without someone praising me to the skies but I don’t feel anything. There is no high here for I know that mine is essentially a wastrel life. I am part of no one’s life and this loneliness hurts me psychologically. Only now I am realizing the power of acceptance, not the garish banter or humour. I try to bear in mind that it's in my best interests that the other person finds my company relaxing; it's a quiet demeanor that attracts flies to a honeycomb than the Rajdhani Superfast express octane blast of reason.  How nice it will serve me if anyone who interacts with me find it their best moment for the day.  Never open your mouth for a time filler, be it as a co-passenger in a flight or a train or when placed in a group of people. Speak as though you'll be charged on a word to word basis as in filling a telegram form. Kindness and Compassion are most bandied words; it starts with listening without interruption. This is a lesson I am yet to learn but increasingly sense its value. Now that I have put my mind on this, it should reflect in my writings and speech for more of restraint and a little of grace. 

Waiting, cooling heels

#136

Before I take a jab at narrating my side of events, Vivek Banerjee supplied a nice thought: Sathya, why take so much trouble on blog writing? It does not pay you a penny or is there any interested following? This touched a raw nerve, I simply said, “I have nothing better. It’s unlikely I would blog if there was an earning opportunity especially now that the stock markets needs stabilizing and I need more learning.”  Vivek is right. I have written too much and for too long and going nowhere for creativity.

            This is a desultory blog to capture these times, usually the onset of festival season catches me in the throat for a panic. I have not seen one in the last 3 decades, for Diwali I make it a point to visit any temple town just to be away from the revelry of fire-crackers. But beginning Ganesh Chaturthi onwards, I fervently wish I was buried hundred feet under. It does feel a singular punishment to be kept out for so long and no silver lining. Now after Igatpuri Vipassana, I sit for 50 min of meditations at the start of the day – I wake up, dim the fans and sit in silence watching either body sensations or breath. I feel a lot of settled nerves that I attribute to this new habit.

            This brings to mind Vipassana humour which I would like to have a record here. I recollect saying this to the teacher at Blore 2018 when he said, “Sathyanarayan G, you must try to sit in Adhisttan.” I said, “There is so much pain in my knees that it can supply power to the entire Blore city.” He did not laugh but I certainly did.  Now at Igatpuri when I went to confer with the teacher on Adhistttan, the teacher (a different one) said, “Observe your pain closely with the detachment of a scientist. See the source of pain, observe on which part of the body it is decreasing from source, see if there are any changes in each round. For instance, the pain could be intense pressure and five minutes later it could have turned into intense heat.”  After successfully holding them for an hour, I reported back to the teacher, “Sir, I did it thanks to your advice. I can’t afford to fail in this Maratha kingdom and bring a bad name to the Tamils. It’s Tamil pride that was at stake.” Again the teacher was not amused though certainly I was.

            In a Vipassana centre, any seed of a thought develops quickly as I played this humour on my head.  I tell Manisha, a typical Marathi, “Why did the Marathas lose the third battle of Panipat in 1761? Not only that, you people have not lost your pride till date,” for a giant chuckle. In reality I will not play this joke on her for she is overly sensitive but I can ruminate in my mind for a produce as I imagine Vivek saying,” Sathya, the Marathas lost the third battle of Panipat in 1761 because of poor leadership. They had a tambrahm in their army.” I tell him, “You mean I was heading their army in my previous birth.” I imagine Vivek chuckling, “You give yourself airs. Sathya, even as a foot soldier you have the ability to topple a ship.”  

            As you can see I am WAITING, COOLING MY HEELS by narrating jokes just to myself to keep myself busy. I wish for an earning source; it looks like those festivals that never come to me. One throw of the dice is in Mumbai where I am there on 19/8 for four days of FUTURES classes. I will ask for favours with my instructors, pray what else I can do?  I am quite innovative on this front, not in the manner of asking favours but I have an open mind for an occupation. I no longer insist on a white collar assignment. If not soft skills training, I am open to even a LASSI shop or food catering that I considered seriously last year. I need some people interactions in the day and sadly I have not been resourceful enough for a dose of it. I am not overly keen on writing a biography of an industrialist or a film actor but I will pitch for it in Mumbai with known people. Or try selling a script for a movie (I am better with my eyes closed and arms twisted on movie scripts, even my discarded thrash will make better viewing on the screens than the ones I catch on HOTSTAR). I need just a push, I am talented enough to make the most of it. But where will it come from in this junkyard of a country, I wonder. But at least in Mumbai I have some friendly people to voice my request, here in Chennai there's none. 

            Today my taciturn cook told me this tale in a tone of excitement: My electricity bill came to Rs. 1700 almost double the normal rates. It seems that after 500-unit consumption, we get into a new slab rate. So this time we were very mindful switching off lights and fans until yesterday my daughter found that the common water pump was connected to my meter. So for two months I was worrying stiff until this discovery. I am asking the owner for a refund and no more of such dirty underhand tactics.” I narrate this simple tale for this is my sole window to the outside world of normalcy.

            I have a talk to deliver on VIPASSANA and MINDFULNESS at FOSWL on 18/8 (it’s a local monthly gathering, it’s an abbreviation for FRIENDS of SAME WAVELENGTH). Normally no more than a dozen people attend, but for me this invitation looks like “one-year quota of talking for which I am extremely bashful and grateful”. My life is reduced to waiting for years, I have shown a lot of patience and perseverance. Maybe destiny will keep score and prove the axiom that every dog has its day. Waiting, destiny old man.

Igatpuri experience

#135

Before I forget, as an aside: I filed my IT returns thanks to my auditor Manimaran.  He was resourceful and gave me total satisfaction with his concept of “fair market value in 2001” rather than the “guideline value in 2001”. That way my capital gains were next to nothing and so this is one huge worry that resolved itself to a sigh of relief.

            I came from Igapuri on 29^th July almost a changed person. First, I learnt to do the body scan from 10 min to 30 min and suddenly my mind was able to perceive more subtlety in body sensations. Which means I have been amiss a long while, a simple change from sitting on the floor to chair got me to go real slow and efficient. Now I can even stretch myself to a Adhisttan (not change my sitting posture for an hour). I believe I have grown as a person from 10% to 20% in this week, which is doubling myself quality wise. I came home and did the blog series on THINKSATHYA, 3-part series aggregating to 4,500 words within 24 hours which is breakneck speed even to me.

            I am not going to repeat the insights I wrote there here on dauntless. Except add contents that I could not fit there, like “a virtuous mind must feel sorrow when it hurts others” as I experienced in the Dhamma hall. I was seated on the third row, there was one meditator on the fourth row who would be invariably late for group sittings and each time he went past my back his trouser would scrap my behind. It happened couple of times and then on the fourth day I turned around and said, “Ooch” and a stare. We are in the vow of silence and this is technically breaking it. I felt so sad at my boorishness, the waves of regret and contrition lasted almost half a day. On the final day, I made it a point to apologize to him.

            That drove my mind into this area: Each time my mind is going downhill the first symptoms is  it starts beating itself for a self-flagellation ruminating either on my sisters or the Sindhi. This is watering a dead plant or feeding dead fishes, there is nothing to be gained except collect misery for a high degree of masochism. I also thought that I had become shameless; I was taking a malicious pleasure hurting them with my blogs. For a Vipassana meditator nothing can be more self-damaging. Buddha would have died of shock if he knew any of his disciples inflicting hurts and deriving pleasure. This is one territory I resolve to shut shop, the first thing I did on coming back to Chennai was delete a blog titled “Remembering Pushpa”.

            Another insight was “I TALK HUGE” and at times almost NON-STOP. There is no excuse to say “since I hardly get an opportunity to speak, let me not squander any opportunities.” The truth is “people respect LISTENING and CARING and not an INTELLIGENT VOCIFEROUS MOUTH.” As Goenka G sums it perfectly: Knowledge always gives rise to debates and confusion, it is experience that removes doubt. Intelligence is no more than information available on Google search, wisdom is LISTENING AND CARING which I must learn some day.  Already this realization has gotten me to “speak haltingly rather than a Rajdhani kind of speed” earlier. We all desire to be understood but that doesn't give me the right to drill a hole on other people’s heads.

            Finally, this thought kept shouting in my head; The birds and animals work for the day while my days are filled with IDLENESS. I must engage in an activity, have some earnings. I will ask some friends, there is a visit to Mumbai in the middle of AUG where I will request my instructors or anyone who can assist me there. I have to find an earning source in 2019 or else I cannot afford Besant nagar with the bourses crashing; my height of optimism now is to recover my capital which I expect in the festival season. With YES BANK still on life-support I am staring at a huge loss as of now. I have half a mind to wind up Besant nagar and take up lodgings near Igatpuri. I like the Mumbai/Maharashtra crowd – they will not crib admitting me to a critical care on necessity or cremate me when I am gone something which is highly doubtful in a tambrahm filled Chennai.

            My meditations have improved but there is no letup in my nightmares. In sleep my mind goes back to school where I am failing in Physics and Chemistry, I see all my school mates in adult version. Everyone is a success and I am shrinking myself in shame having nothing to show. All the family desertion, failure in jobs and romance adds up to failing in exams in nightmare. It is for this reason alone I want a couple of years in a job, maybe a romance would help too. But these are things not in my hands.

            As for me I must get the focus back to stock trading; I must get the JUNE discipline of spending an hour on charts. I must get back to the CONTROLLED trades. I am still looking for a spark for the engine to start. This 20% is still “FAILED” status, I need some daily supply of life moments for a pass at 40%. I am trying as ever, what else can I do differently?