Weight of the matter

Gravity warps time. Clocks tick more slowly the closer they are to a massive object. Time, in the presence of great weight, bends.

Perhaps the same is true of the burdens we carry.. sorrows, regrets, what-ifs and failures. Their emotional gravity bends our perception of time. What precedes it seems distant and hazy. What follows it feels tainted, never quite the same again. A blotch on the lens that makes the world more ugly.

And the more we delve into that one painful memory.. the deeper we go, and the more it grows. What begins as a passing ache, swells with time and pulls everything into its orbit. Until, finally, it becomes something enormous. Unmovable. A black hole in our psyche.

In its presence, neither light nor lightness can escape... A bottomless abyss where we lose the ability to measure moments clearly, and to live in the moment, completely. We vaguely remember the tipping point, but don't know how long we've been falling and where we'll reach. 

I wish I could have ended this piece on a more promising note.. something on how time bends but never breaks.. and how something that bends on one side, may also bend on the other.. that there is light at the end of the tunnel.. Maybe someday I'll write an addendum..

The Mean Streets

These streets don't remember your name

These streets don't remember your name

You go in or you go out

You go right or you go wrong

For them, it's all just the same

These streets don't remember your name

Cry a slogan, sing a song

Wait a while or run along

Fall in love, stay in grief

Or drown in shame

For them, it's all just the same

These streets don't remember your name

For everything you hold

Or choose to let go

Everything you hide

Or choose to show

You only have yourself

To credit or blame

These streets don't remember your name

Ok? Ok.

The one question I’ve been asked time and again over the last 15 days is “Are your ok?” or some variant of it; either a question or a statement of hope – “Hope you are fine”, “Hope you’re holding up”, “All well?”. Initially I tried answering it with a statement that was truer to my state of mind at that time of the day instead of just pasting a generic reply. I ended up giving curt replies to some really close friends and a long heartfelt response to some acquaintances who were just checking in. But I honestly don’t know how to respond to that question anymore.

What is ok anyway? What constitutes as ok? That I feel hungry and thirsty at regular intervals? Whether I’m going to the office or not, or whether I’m able to sleep or not. I do all of these. Sometimes consistently, sometimes not so. I still go online (although the frequency has gone down), and I still send out memes or put up stories that resonate with me. But there are still times when I don’t remember anything on my way from the office to home. One minute I’m fine and the next I just think of a song or a sentence or a memory and just... zone out or cry it out.

I knew the clock was ticking. I knew this day would eventually come. It’s like watching Sadma for the second time. You know how it ends. You dread it but you watch it. You think you’re prepared for it. But the sheer severity of the situation still overwhelms you. You still cry. You still feel lost. You still believe that you’re stronger now that you know. But no. That’s not how Sadma works... Neither in film, nor in life.

To say that I’m ok would be as untrue as saying that I’m not ok. There is no right answer to this question, but I still thank you for asking. In an age where ‘Happy Birthday to you’ has been reduced to ‘HBD’ and condolence messages are high-five emojis being repurposed as folded hands, I thank you for taking that extra time and effort to type a message or call me. I may not always have a reply, but I’ll remember that you asked.

A Permanent Pain

For four days, I’ve been nursing a spasm in my right arm—a dull, constant pain that would occasionally spike, reminding me not to move my arm this way… that way… or even that way. The pain dictated every aspect of my day—how I walked, how I slept, how I wore my t-shirt, how I sat at work, how I played with my daughter, how I drove. I tried managing it with massages and hot fomentation. But after a while, I realised I was starting to make peace with the pain.

I began restricting my movements, expecting the next painful reminder. I started sitting differently, eating differently, sleeping differently, even walking differently. That’s when I knew I needed help. It wasn’t anything complicated—just a visit to the doctor, followed by a course of painkillers, muscle relaxants, and heat therapy.

Today, I woke up feeling different. Confident that I could go for a walk, if not a run. And I did. It felt so good that it almost felt better than before.

I guess that’s the thing about pain—it feels permanent, crippling, and all-encompassing until it’s not. The key is knowing when to bear through it and when to seek help.

An Accidental Adventure

After a long day at work yesterday, I was going back home and while crossing a busy intersection, I banged into an Activa. It was a minor accident but these two guys insisted that I park my vehicle on the side and started demanding money for the repair. I told them that it was a genuine accident and that neither of us were breaking any rules. The Activa looked pretty new and it must've been covered by insurance. But they kept insisting that giving it for repair would mean that they wont get it back for days and that I would have to pay. And then the crowd started trickling in. Any accident in India will bring in a crowd and every idiot becomes a mediator. "Paise deke baat khatam karo!", "Police ke paas jaoge to aur kharcha hoga" etc and bull shit. At some point, I felt like ppl had started ganging up on me. That's the other thing about India. In any accident, the guy with a big or more expensive vehicle is the default culprit. On one side, we have an Activa and on the other side of the ring we have the RE Classic. Obviously galati meri hi hogi. 

By this time, I was tired and restless. I'd not been feeling well and just wanted to go home. So I tried to fold and offered 500 bucks. They said no and insisted that I accompany them to the Honda showroom and let the technician give an estimate on how much it'll cost. I dunno why but I agreed to go with them. One of the guys sat behind me to ensure that I didn't run away. All through the way, I kept making a mark of any police vehicles  around me or police men on the road. There was this constant fear of the what-if. What if they take me somewhere secluded and demand a ransom? What if they take me to an ATM and insist on being there while I withdraw the money? Like I said, I don't know why I agreed to go with them.

Thankfully (and in retrospect, luckily) they weren't that diabolical. They took me to the Honda showroom and as expected, the guy there said that it'll cost 800 bucks in just labour charges, even if there is insurance. i knew this was hogwash. They seemed to have ppl towing their line everywhere they went. I had an eerie feeling and so as a reflex I put my foot down and said Let's go to the Police. Neither of us have committed a crime. It was an accident. Let the police decide on further course of action. This unnerved at least one them - the driver. I could sense that he didn't want to go to the police. But I persisted. 

We reach the Sayajigunj station and there are four other guys waiting there for us. These guys obviously worked as a gang and this wasn't their first hunt. One guy was the good cop (aap bade ghar ke lag rahe ho, kyun police-volice ke chakkar me padte ho? 800 ki baat hai. Nipta lo!). The other was a bad cop trying to rattle the cage ("500 me kya hota? Main yeh patthar se tera bike thok dun? Fir bolunga ke 500 me theek kar lo. Chalega??"). And then there were two guys who didn't have any script lines but were just there to make it look like a crowd. I tried to maintain calm to the best of my ability. "Yeh dhamki mat do! Har police station ke bahar CCTV hota hai. Sab kuch camera me aaega". Do all stations have CCTV cameras outside? I don't know. Thankfully neither did they. The bad cop calmed down a bit. And that's when my cavalry arrived. 

My brother-in-law came straight from him office, walked up to me and just signaled me to enter the station. Didn't say a word to them. This confidence of going inside the police station further unnerved those guys. It takes a certain amount of bravado to march into the police station in this country. Suddenly, we seemed to have the upper hand. My brother-in-law knew someone who knew someone at the station, went straight to the inspector and told him what happened. Thereafter i was called in and i gave my side of the story. And finally, the original duo was called in. Now I saw genuine fear. They obviously had something to hide. They didn't want the police to get involved. The inspector asked us if a settlement could be reached. I again offered 500 but this time they agreed. The inspector asked me again if I'm sure that i want to settle the matter. That I'm  legally not liable to pay anything. But I was just exhausted now. It'd been an hour already and I just wanted to get it over with. So I agreed to pay 500. The inspector asked us to go downstairs and sign on some sort of settlement receipt which stated that we have agreed on this and that nothing else needs to be done. I confidently walked out and was ready to pay the money but now the guys were really backtracking. They didn't want any documentation to happen. Maybe he didn't have a valid driver's license, maybe he had some other pending matters with the police.. I don't know.. I don't care.. and just like that.. they walked away saying that they don't want any of my money.. and just like that I walked away as well. No money paid. A free bird trembling from a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline.

Not everything teaches you a lesson, but if you want to learn, you probably will in any situation. So what did I learn today??

• Trust your instincts. If it tells you to call a bluff then call it. You won't always win, but at least you'll lose on your own terms and decisions. 
• It's not about the size of the dog in a fight, it's about the size of the fight in the dog. Inhale. Exhale. Don't back down. If you're sure that you've done nothing wrong then you don't have to worry. Of course this being India, this won't work all the time. Quite often the innocents also suffers. But that's a gamble that needs to be taken. 
• Aag ko paani ka darr banaye rakho. Just because someone is shouting at your face, doesn't mean you shout back. More often than not, the trolls only want you to react and come down to their level so that it becomes a level pigsty. Resist the urge. Keep calm. Diffuse what you can. 
• Always know whom to call in your time of need. Family works best. Especially if you know that they are connected. In this country, who you know pretty much defines what you can do. 

P.S.: Now that I've slept over it, I've woken up wiser. I can clearly see what all I did wrong. I shouldn't have gone with them unaccompanied. It was stupid and reckless. I should have had a little more faith in the police (and my brother-in-law). Had I gone straight to police the matter would have gotten sorted a bit faster. But then again,it wouldn't have resulted in this post.