Friday, August 9, 2019

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.

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