Wednesday, March 06, 2019

Thought


The other side of the window sill
filtered through
A seemingly thick gauge
Of premonition
Skewing imagery
Suiting the ever prevalent inner dialogue
Stretching the truth into obliteration.
It matters not the many veils
That beautify the captures
When one refracted thought
Could cloud the reality.
The foreground of wilted viewpoint
Make bright calendula look like smudges of color
When what exists reduces to blurred pixels
Of cross stitch like distortion
Smearing out of a crystal clarity.
Reminding the brutality
That most things we choose to behold
We choose to behold as we are, and as we see.

Monday, March 04, 2019

The curse - Of a side effect

When I first came to the Land of Liberty, I came with all my preconditioning of my  conservative small town, Indian upbringing. My entire view of the world was to be adjusted to alarmingly new perspectives and Advertising was one of those culture shocks I faced. Growing up, I saw the Indian media take very politically correct jibes at the competitors and exaggeration was a way of the sales pitch. Tall claims could be made without legal repercussions. When I first saw a print Ad of a seasonal allergy medication in one of the magazines here in the US, I had to pause and notice. The said Ad had graphics from the competitor's label and made a substantiated claim about a clinical study wherein they performed better than the opponent. "Interesting" I thought to myself. There are probably reasons why the first world remains the first world. They have made their evolution through things. The other thing that caught my attention was the disclaimer labels - often noting allergy information, manufacturing plant information and a list of side effects for all the drugs.  The info would read "Side effects include nausea, diarrhea, dizziness, weight gain, loss of appetite, liver dysfunction etc etc etc..." I was amazed at the transparency of the information that is provided to a consumer.

Well, I am into the second paragraph and really didn't start scratching the surface of my ponder yet - Focus dear child, focus! So back on track, I did experience a ironic side effect to a medication that was supposed to combat flu while aiding a good night's sleep. My usual go to Advil was tossed aside in favor of Nyquil. The bug needed a strong contender and I was half dreaming about the blissful sleep I'd be lulled into as I washed in the sharp tasting potion down the throat. Half an hour passes, nothing happens, except I feel a little hazy, like one might feel under influence. An hour, and then two. No sleep in sight. I probably counted sheep till I could name my count in the infinite selection and focused on my breath to a point where I got super alert. But sleep eluded me like water in a desert. Then I faintly remember relating every tale I ever wanted to relate to, to the significant other that was kept force awaken to give me company. Poor thing complied to the sickness and health vow by and large. After a while, I realized I cannot hold 'not resisting sleep' against a soul that slogged his backside off for near 15 hrs during the day.

It was wee hours, like 3 Am perhaps, and I was still thinking up all remedies I ever heard of that could convince the slumber fairies to bestow their grace upon me. Then suddenly, I remembered the poem "The dark night of the soul" - now if you, by chance are a spiritual connoisseur, you probably heard a thing or two about that poem and the interpretation and about the deep set meaning it has into awakening the soul to some sort of ascension. That godforsaken NyQuil did induce some side effects for sure,  the most unthought ones for sure, as I was in some sort of spiritual ego trip envisioning going through my very own "Dark night of the soul" - My previous night's google search history even claims that I looked up for the many available poetic and spiritual interpretations of the said work.

Now, I'll cut the chase for you. Cause it's been a solid three days ago and the strain of the good ole Flu still lingers around like a strong fragrance used by a fashionista with a brazen sense of style and Moi feels the bug as intensely as the day I got hit by it. So, I did wake around 9 am the next morning presuming I fell asleep around sunrise. The first thing I did upon opening my eyes was the zombie float to my laptop to search up NyQuil side effects.

Down under all side effects I spot "Insomnia" - Holy Ravioli, guacamole, puranpoli....who would have thunk??

And thus, I first hand, experience the dark night of the side effect.

All hail the ironies of life!


Sunday, March 03, 2019

The curse - Of too many choices

Late winter becomes tricky in this place. The much needed rains either overwhelm the weather forecast or totally elude us, giving subtle jitters about a potential water shortage in the warmer months. This year, the nature gods are in a mood of giving. The incessant rains kind of remind me of what my London bred friend once said about the weather out there. "It is grey all the time, so grey that it gets to you" I seem to resonate with that "getting to you" sentiment right now - as the late winter tricks of the trade unfold themselves inside and out and a strong flu strain does the rounds.

It is an interesting combination, to have wet, 'seasonal active disorder' inducing scenes spread outside as a flu bug takes over the insides of you, quiet literally, making you run to the nearest over the counter aisle, filling in the shopping cart with all possible remedies to combat the bug. Hot tea brewing in copious amounts to be used as the drainex equivalent to unclog the congestion and just like that, a couple of days slip by where you do nothing, or rather not have the energy to do anything. It is in such instances that I remember the Telly, the piece of electronics that doesn't get its due in this household, thanks to the inability of yours truly to sit in a place for periods longer than fifteen minutes. The headache didn't allow me to focus too much on the reading material that seems to just multiply in the dark, thanks to the all powerful Amazon prime, where gratification of thumbing through the book you fancy is just a few clicks away. Amid all this sensory overload, I finally get to sync Prime videos to the telly - after being a prime patron for a period of years that I lost count of.

When I enter the wonderland of prime videos, I feel a little dazed at the sheer enormity of this whole thing. Talk about being a frog in the well and being blissfully unaware of all the happenings of the world out there. It takes me no time to realize that Prime videos kind of puts Netflix to some sort of complex and I mentally get a grip over the giant that Amazon has become. "No wonder" I say to myself.  "Jeff deserves it." I flip the up and down arrows to explore all there is, periodically clicking on a title to see if it entices me enough to punch the "watch" button. The list seems to be daunting - near exhaustive so to speak, that going through the titles and log lines constitutes of some sort of a prelude to the entertainment I was seeking. As my grey cells skim through the choices, a background thread of the good old Doordarshan days make a flash in my mind's eye. The way we used to flock around the television to get a fix of the Saturday's regional and the Sunday's Hindi movies respectively. A sizable portion of a whole nation used to plan their weekends around these two features and what ever was offered, irrespective of the quality or the watachability of the content,  used to be consumed. Amusingly, I saw how the abundance of the the millennia that I so often rant about in my mind while raising my kids also gets into the lives of the co-existing gen x veterans like me. I for once, sense how too much of something can be deterrent to happiness first hand. We seem to have one too many of every possible choice out there, that it numbs and desensitizes us to the vastness of our own resources.

I couldn't really watch much on prime, partly due to that antsy condition I am born with which doesn't allow me to sit still for long, that goes hand in hand with the inability to look at movies and TV as a part of entertainment. I think there is a weirdo in me that cannot seek to be entertained. The weirdo demands food for thought. I did end up watching a movie - The words. Who could resist a title like that? and a ponder over that experience demands another entry here in my lonesome virtual mindspace, wherein I type what Anne Lamott calls the "Shitty first drafts" without a single care. There isn't a need to sound smart, or a want to be understood - now that is liberating, among the many curses of the modern life, upon which I intend to ponder in the coming days.

It drives home a very important lesson for me. That simplicity is a talisman that unlocks a peaceful, content life. The less things, the more clarity. No wonder, back in the day, the blessed day of moderation, our predecessors led lives much different than ours. It is probably just on the solid ground of the mantra of needing less and living more.