My heart beats precariously.
Waking
up late to morning sun – sunshine soaking in the very marrow as it travels. The
photons fraternising with the blood cells – reunion of the dust particles. Stardust.
After the house chores were
done. I sat on the window seat with the filtered sunshine and wind caress, with
a huge mug of tea and lit a cigarette more for the inhaling and the nicotine
laced breath than the smoke. To the background score of no music, no noise save for my own thoughtless mind’s
I write less and then I write more - sometimes
with frenzy, wrestling the words, ideas, feelings out of me at a feral state.
And then switches code and takes forever over a few sentences like a languishing fever - brewing,
pontificating, mulling over – before it becomes the right shade of music – just
enough grunge and enough jazz.
On weekdays – every morning I try
and find a place by the side windows – windows that overlook water. It’s a busy
harbour, yet the seemingly never-ending expanse of water, the undulating sails
of waves – keep my balance centred.
Crackling Fire and Rippling Water –
both of the same effect. How? Why are hows important? Maybe they are not. It just is. Finding joy in the no definite answers and the unfinished-ness of things.
This is what I am learning. Leaning
in with grace.
A challenge for my Asperger driven OCD Mind.
That the process is the pleasure.
Whilst finishing things and tying that bow on the neatly done wrapping is a definite satisfaction; however the walk to soak in the moments could be a reward in itself.
A challenge for my Asperger driven OCD Mind.
That the process is the pleasure.
Whilst finishing things and tying that bow on the neatly done wrapping is a definite satisfaction; however the walk to soak in the moments could be a reward in itself.
This week – someone genuinely was
overwhelmed by my poetry and said “I could marry you for this!” and this week I went
out for lunch with someone who was brave enough to talk about mental health
awareness with his own example, unabashedly. This week – I found space every
single morning by the window overlooking the water – a feat in itself with the
hot desk thing. This week – I paid almost all my debts. This week a few more
steps towards creating better user stories and better user
experiences at work. This week – a few more meaningful candid chats with some solid examples of humans.
This week, a strengthening of a bond of traditional belief; organically
I walk to a quaint café near my office, mid-mornings and watch people come in. The barista and I never say more than a hello and the order; and yet there’s a warm familiarity to it.
It’s the weekend now. I write this while the Bose speakers flirt with jazz and Nirvaan plays quietly with his Lego, building out his complex imaginations.
It’s the weekend and am grateful for the interlude. It’s the left-brain days.
The weekend, I look forward. I exhale. I fall in love and fall apart.
We argue. We fall harder. Whatever happens I collect and create stories of us with all these unfinished pieces and fragments of questions, answers, conversations, snippets, chores and things left undone – unsaid – unfulfilled.
Copyright
© Neerja Yadav