Like a pig I slept. It’s 12:46 noon now and I think I didn’t get enough sleep. I fell asleep some time after 2:30 in the morning. I usually fall asleep around midnight. Yesterday night, something kept me busy.
12:48 noon. Im sitting on the toilet seat, wondering where to go next from here. I’d rather sleep a bit more but I shouldn’t. Hunger pangs in my stomach. I should take a shower, get dressed and go out.
12:53 noon. Nothing else makes me happier than taking a proper sh*t in the morning without much struggle. Sometimes when you take a huge dump, you start feeling somewhat dizzy in your head. Strange!
12:55 noon. Listening to Memora by Gesafflstein. He is an amazing artist. I admire his music and come back to it from time to time.
12:58. Time to exercise a bit, not much. These muscles need some movement. Lower back is hurting as usual. Feels incurable. I hope it isn’t.
How hard can it be to close eyes and simply sit. Speaking of eyes, my eyes are heavy with sleep. And yet, tonight, I want to write something.
Now, 11:00 at night. Today, a friend’s birthday. Yesterday, he met with an accident while he was riding his motorcycle. At around 11:30 yesterday night, four of us drove to the spot of accident and somehow brought his damaged motorcycle home, parked it.
Yesterday night, the fog was thick. Those ghostly roads were without any heart. Luckily, we came back without trouble. Upon returning, I found that my clothes were damp with mist. I looked towards the flyover that ran across the highway. The bright streetlights dimmed by thick fog. Fog was flowing on the highway like white river. The headlights of passing vehicles looked like floating candles or lamps.
Later that night, I woke up around 2:45 and ran to the toilet and screamed with my mouth in the commode.
Went to sleep at 5 in the morning. The entire night was spent in this small cafe with a couple of knows faces, discussing about small mindedness, mental health, curiosity, depression among other things.
Around 4:45 in the morning, the fog started settling over the town. I wished to drive back home, bring my camera and come back and click a few pictures. When I got home at 5:00 in the morning and finally laid down, I couldn’t help but close my eyes. I had put an alarm to wake up at 6:30 in the morning to take my camera and go outside. I woke up at 3:00 in noon and finally got up from bed at 5:00 in the evening. All my day gone sleeping.
Every man struggles. Every man struggles. Every man struggles. It’s why I never say anything about someone else. It’s why I never form opinions about someone else. in fact, It just doesn’t make sense to me to form opinions anymore.
I live my life. I like to remain busy with my own learnings and unlearnings of life. Now that I understand things in a better way, I’ve grown quieter. I understand perspectives that may not be my own. Now, I can feel just how vast the universe is and I’m just this small piece of life in it, significant nonetheless. And even if I’m not significant, I’m happy to be here. For now, that is enough for me.
Tonight, fog settles over the town much earlier. Now, it’s 11:00 at night. Maybe I’ll wait a couple of hours more before heading out with my camera.
This is probably not a good time. Feels like the year has come to an end, at least for me it has. Tomorrow begins a new year for me. Not much on my mind today. There’s this renewed energy in me to move in a new direction. Other than that, nothing. It’s better I stop doing everything and lay down. It’s better than falling asleep in this chair.
I’d rather lay down on the floor in shavasana and wait for sleep. Now, sitting in my chair and typing and listening to this raga called Raga Malkauns. My eyes half closed, as if someone drugged me.
The day has changed. Today is Wednesday. What happened last night after my eyes closed. I do not remember anything other than that I got up from my chair and laid down on the floor, with my back straight and my arms straight. I do not remember my eyes closing. I was tired. Too tired. So tired that no writing got done yesterday and no songs were heard late night.
Today went in vain. A plant has died. I’m covered in dirt. The never-stopping rain has messed up with my mind. Listening to this relaxing raga. It’s nine minutes past midnight. The lamp light hurts my eyes. I turn it off. Minutes pass. Coldness has filled the space. Eyes become heavier. Heavier. Heavier still.
that day, I had drenched in rain twice already the damned rain I was sick of it give me desert throw me in the hot sands of Thar I was saying all this to myself rather, I was screaming but the sky doesn't hear the sky is deaf and stupid and it won't stop crying until it's done tired of getting drenched, I stopped at a friend's shop late evening and sat for a while 'Nothing seems to be working out' said my friend to me while we sat and talked 'Seems so' I replied he ordered coffee, a cup, just one the coffee came soon and I drank it it was still raining soon, a car arrived and my friend hopped in and they drove away, all four of them who they were, I had no idea I waited for a couple of minutes outside the shop in total darnkess it was still raining I said screw it and got on my motorcycle I drove to my favorite restaurant in town, a small one where not many came at night I sat, there was no electricity it was still raining 'Eggs?' I asked the owner 'Only chicken and fish tonight' he replied 'Fish' I said I put on my earphones classical piano I needed classical on such nights I closed my eyes for a minute and listened a voice called my name I opened eyes, saw a friend sitting opposite to me 'Tired?' he asked 'Tired of rain, yeah. I want it fucking gone now' I replied 'Yeah it has kind of spoilt the mood' he said we talked a bit fish came soon looked superb as always, roasted 'Fish of smaller waters is tastier' he said 'That's very true' I said I ate slowly took me an hour maybe more it was still raining outside we talked about Indian classical music while I chewed on the soft bones of the delicious fish soon, a bouncer-like figure walked in, sat, waited for his takeaway, took it, paid and left 'He's the bodyguard of a don' said my friend 'Looks like it' I said I finished eating, my friend got up and left where he went, I had no clue I paid the bill it was still raining 'How do I withdraw cash from my account if I do not have a card?' the owner asked as I started leaving 'Why do you think I know the answer. I do not' I said it was still raining I ran outside to my motorcycle, sat and drove back to home.
I’m wearing my spectacles. There are raindrops on my spectacles. I’m trying to write something through the little spots that these raindrops have made on the glasses of my spectacles. It’s today’s challenge for me. I know it doesn’t meaning anything. Just saying.
It continues to rain through this evening and I think it will rain all night. I had planned to go on a long walk tonight. Now, I’ve forgotten about it. It isn’t happening tonight. It won’t be long before I’m asleep.
For the past few days, I’m recording my sleep pattern. I wake up every hour. Interesting! I wake up every hour, go to pee and get back under my blanket. The process repeats every night. Every night ends in morning. Interesting! I wake up late and rush to work.
Workplace can be an interesting place. It depends on the people working there and their bonding with each other. Ah what crap!
The time is 10:43 night. Listening to this song from 40s. It’s about a prostitute whose heart is broken, and she sings to his lover so that he doesn’t leave. But he has left. All that remains is the melodious singing of the prostitute who sits on the floor in the middle and sings all night to her patrons.
Where am I. What am I. This wind. This night. This moonlight. It’s all taken from some place else. I’m an imitation, a repetition. I scratch my beard in utter disgust and listen to this new song from 60s. Sung by a male, no less heart broken that that prostitute. What a song! What a night! What an incredible night!
no evidence of wings no trace of sunlight the sky is crying day and night waiting for a spark of fire eyes closed, knees bent, heart broken I lay concentrated waiting to be diluted this isn't my tune this isn't my day this life isn't my life when will the sky stop crying no amount of consolation works no amount of thinking about it works when the sky weeps, I weep I'm so old and deserted my home weeps no weather can shatter me more the quiet outside doesn't last I comb my hair with the fingers of my right hand and die.
I’m trying to make a sense of all this madness that has surrounded me recently. It is a fact that I didn’t ask for any of it. Also, the amount that I’m getting paid to face all this sheer madness isn’t fair. I deserve more. Forget about the money. I deserve quiet more than anything else. At the same time, I think that I deserve the worst, or maybe I deserve nothing. I’m at a spot where I want to punish myself and I want the biggest rewards to myself. Also, I do not loathe punishments and I do not work for rewards. All of this looks like a phase of transition to me. It’s painful to the mind. Endlessly painful. It’s no surprise that I make it out alive every morning. I work hard for it. I am my biggest support. I try to stay clear-headed in any situation. It is something that comes at its own cost.
But all this madness makes me wonder now, ‘Why all this! And why with me!’ No, I do not complain. I’m just tired, too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. I’m exhausted and I’m hungry. Yeah, I think it’s that. Give me food and water and let me go to sleep.
I was back there after a few nights. Back in the same cafe. Late night. A few of them were back there too, sitting, talking, making fun of each other. I took a seat outside and lit a cigarette. I was listening to Paterlini. Everything feels calm when I listen to his music. I closed my eyes for a moment. A strange sense of joy filled my chest. I couldn’t help but smile. The smile was a big one, and it lasted on my otherwise dull face for a good few seconds.
Soon, a friend walked in. He walked straight inside, talked to a few people sitting there, and then walked back to my place. He sat opposite to me. He had his earphones on. He was listening to something too, or maybe he was watching something on his phone. ‘What’s new?’ he asked. I nodded in no. I had nothing to say. I was floating in this calmness listening to the beautiful music of Paterlini. I wasn’t interested in engaging in any kind of conversation.
Soon, two more friends arrived. The time was 23:39. I didn’t plan to stay there till late. Maybe I’ll go home in fifteen minutes, I thought.
All four of us were sitting on the chairs outside with a couple of tables between us. We ordered coffee and pasta. I didn’t mind eating too much. I didn’t mind ordering more food. I hadn’t had a full meal in two days.
Our food kept arriving. We kept eating. Soon, a giant arrived. A virgin giant, that’s what everybody who knew him called him. He arrived on a rather puny motorcycle sitting between two of the most drunk men of the city. What is wrong with them today, each one of us were thinking inside our heads.
The two drunk men got off the motorcycle and climbed the stairs stumbling along the way to us. They both took the table next to mine and sat with their arms resting on their knees. They were breathing heavily as if they had just finished a half marathon.
The virgin giant was staring at all of us. He was a giant but he was young. He had strength but not the experience of life. He could deadlift 270 kilograms like it’s nothing. But when asked about what he would do with his life, he was as confused as any other young man.
He sat on the big empty space on the floor between our tables. ‘Today I make sure he loses his virginity’ shouted one drunk man pointing at him. The giant was a giant but in the moment he felt shy. Shy as if the drunk man was going to screw him in the ass. Shy as if he weren’t born with a dick. Shy as any wet cat would feel when spreading for the first time.
The virgin giant, out of shyness, hid his face, kept laughing. The two drunk men, got up and tried lifting him off the ground but failed. ‘Wait. Wait! I’ve got this whore waiting for you. Only for you. Now don’t make her wait for too long! Up up up. C’mon!’ one drunk man was shouting and laughing and scolding the virgin giant. The virgin giant felt embarrassed, he could hardly laugh.
It continued like that for an hour, after which, the virgin giant got up and ran away. His ass had turned red from embarrassment. It could be seen on his face when he was leaving. The two drunk men sat down in their places and continued to drink more, cussing and screaming and shouting. The friends began to leave one by one.
My time was ruined. I got up and tried to feel again that feeling of listening to Paterlini for the first time. I failed. I washed my hands and walked to my motorcycle. I sat on it and drove back home. The time was around 1:15 in the morning.
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