Do you ever sit on a park bench for more than ten minutes?
I wish I could say “yes”. For a long time, I thought that’s what was missing in my life – a park bench in which to sit and be lost in the moment. Took me a while to understand that I am too restless for that. In retrospect, everyone else around me has known it. My class teacher in 11th called me “jumping jack” for a reason. My college friend called me “butt spring”. My labmate (a Japanese girl) called me “bullet train”. I can’t sit in one place (unless I am writing) for more than two minutes. I must move. Even when I do sit, I am fidgety. My feet tap, my hands flail, my eyes wander hither-thither – definitely not the Buddhaisqueness you’s associate with a park bench. That’s why meditation is hard for me. My brain calms down instantly, but my body can’t take stasis.
A few months ago, a bench was installed right outside our fence. I was excited when it was being installed – now I can finally sit on a bench in the evening, listen to bird song, watch children play, and tête-à-tête with the neighbours. Guess how many times that has happened?
When you lose electricity in a storm, do you light the candles, turn on the flashlight or use your cell phone for light?
I live in India. We don’t lose electricity in a storm. We lose it because we can. The powers that be, believe that character must be built among the citizens and in their magnanimity, always cut off power just when you dump soaked rice into the mixer to grind, or you are in the middle of a work deadline and the goddang document must be mailed within the next seven minutes or it would spontaneously combust.
But that does not answer the question. I use my phone flash light to get the candles and light them all around the house.
Would you rather be given $10,000 for your own use or $100,000 to give anonymously to strangers?
Can I have the $10000, keep half to myself and give away half to the stranger? I could use the extra dough at the moment. To buy innerwear. You know the problem with rains? Inner wear don’t dry fully (no, we don’t have a washer-drier – yes, we live a fairly spartan life) and there is nothing more annoying than having damp clothing next to your skin. But you didn’t want to know that, did you?
While on the topic of innerwear (yeah, I am gross like that), I always call it by its Tamil name (jaddi), which drives my family nuts – “you are gross…why can’t you be decent and call it inner-wear?”, the kid and dad chorus. “Why? What’s wrong with jaddi?” I ask, “it is just another piece of garment that you wear”. They roll their eyes around and give me a wide berth until I stop saying the blasted word.
What inspired you or what did you appreciate this past week?
My kid’s cheer-up book is my inspiration this week, and perhaps for a long time afterwards.