living – Bubble

Trial by Fire

I don’t know how to describe this. It feels like I’m blowing a puff of air from my mouth onto my dusty old diary. We surely must have lost the definition of time, as I only realized I was here on this page looking at words floating around, more than a year ago. I do not believe in drafts, and as usual even this post is raw, as is, from my mind, my fingers moving involuntarily across the keyboard. It’s funny how this turned, maybe I believed in drafts because I believed in perfection. I often visited the store close to my place when I was a kid to buy my art supplies, the owner was a very kind man who used to encourage my experiments with art. He often asked me to bring him some of my work, but all I used to talk about was how it wasn’t in the final stage and needed to be reworked on regarding final details. What he told me stuck with me through the years; If you keep looking at your work over and over, you will find more number of imperfections. Since then I haven’t looked back. Maybe it isn’t so bad to live with the tiny imperfections that exist in life.

This is also going to be different from the other stuff you find on here; because of me trying to stay as positive as possible. Almost every post on here is about me trying my best to pick out the positives from all kinds of situations in life, and trying to channel my thoughts into trying to explain my perspective which could aid you in looking at similar obstacles if you face any. This is just going to be a heart to heart, actual description of circumstances; maybe even a futile attempt at a diary entry because I don’t think the idea of an annual diary entry exists or probably isn’t the most popular idea. This doesn’t even explain the entire year, just series of calamities that made me feel like my life was moving slower than it usually was.

July 2021

It’s not everyday you wake up and decide to completely leave your bad experiences and memories behind to try something that left you only with grief the last time you tried it. If you’re someone who knows me closely, or someone who happened to read my earlier posts, you will be aware that I lost my dog when she was over year old to kidney failure. Since then I’ve moved into a new home at a very nice, quiet and serene environment. My mother and I loved animals, so we felt like we were ready to adopt another puppy. It’s the last week of June 2021, and I tell my friend that we were looking for a puppy, for which he tells me that he knows someone who has a 1 month old puppy and they were looking at a new home for him. I was excited. Probably beyond excited because I found myself ordering stuff online for the puppy, from his food bowl to his shampoo. I felt like how I did in 2017 when I got my first puppy Zoey.

I’m driving with my friend and my mom, with the puppy restlessly jumping around in the car because he wasn’t used to being in a car. When I first picked him up he licked my fingers, and I just knew that he was meant to come to me. I wasn’t that sure when he was screaming inside the car on the way back home though. We bring him and everyone’s delighted to have him. When I first picked him and looked at his innocent eyes and cute little nose, all I could think was how I’d finally get myself to be responsible for him. If I had any regrets with Zoey, it’s that there were moments I should’ve cherished; something like taking her for her walks or probably just playing with her, but I lazed away from because I was too tired from college or just occupied with something that required minimum physical and mental effort. I am built that way; if the day is full of work that requires my attention or any kind of physical effort, I try to dedicate a little bit of time to help myself ‘zone out’ a little. From recent events, I can fully confirm that not giving that period of time to myself can completely drive me insane, and put my physical and mental health at peril.

If you’re someone who never had a pet, or a human baby at home. I can assure you that having a newborn baby at home is exactly the same as that of having a pet. From medications, to giving your pet attention; sometimes you really need to believe that any form of newborn life act identical. I can confidently claim I was fully committed this time, I used to take care of all the puppy’s needs by myself with help from my mother. It was a difficult yet fruitful first three days. We could barely sleep at night because he hated to be left alone at nights, and sometimes really needed to go out and take care of his needs.

Day 4 started off differently. I woke up to a puddle of fluid, and I couldn’t really figure out what it was. I had my doubts that the puppy was sick, but he seemed to be fine walking and playing around. It wasn’t until I tried to feed him that I realized that there was indeed something really wrong with him, because he was refusing to eat. We took him straight away to the local vet, who told us that it had to do something with indigestion so we needed to be careful about what we fed him from there on. We brought him back home, fed him electrolytes using a dropper to make sure he wasn’t dehydrated. There still seemed to be signs that his problem wasn’t sorted, as it continued to bother him at night and forced him into starving himself. The next day I took him to the vet again who reassured me that we just need to let him have his time to recover, because he must’ve eaten something he shouldn’t have as dogs usually do. We took him home again. The next day, I happened to see him struggling, being lethargic and passing blood. I lost my faith in the local vet and rushed to the government veterinary hospital close to my home. I do not intend to blame anyone after what happened has happened, but what happened there really contributed to me being a little more insensitive about human beings in general. When we stepped into the hospital (2:50 pm IST), we saw a woman rushing out and we told her that the puppy needed immediate medical attention as he was really sick. The woman told me that government hospitals only functioned till 3:00 PM and that we were late. In the next few moments she had completely disappeared from the hospital premises. We were left completely disheartened because we knew the puppy needed urgent care, but the next closest hospital was at least a few hours away. I also never really considered the problem to be a serious one, so we consoled ourselves and went home.

We turned up at the hospital really early the next day, and was astonished to see that the woman who walked away earlier was the doctor in charge. She looked at the puppy and concluded that the puppy had a parvo virus attack, which is a very fatal condition for dogs. Ironically, they told me that puppies escape these types of situation if the problems are diagnosed at the earliest. They gave him medication, asked us to bring him again the next day. We took him home, gave him his electrolytes, kept him in his favorite box, where I’d set up a mini bed for him. There were moments when he was playful, peeping out of the box. I was relieved and I went back to work. I left my room because I needed to get a cup of coffee, and I looked into the box to make sure how he was doing. It took me a second to realize that he wasn’t in his usual deep slumber. His body was cold, stiff and frozen. There are a lot of good memories with him that I do have, but trying to remember only leaves me feeling absolutely empty. But the moment when I had to close his eyes with my hands is stuck with me forever. I did not cry. I took him, all his things, his toy and his food. We buried a grave for him, lowered down his body along with his favorite toy. We burnt the rest of his things. I was told that Parvo remains in the environment, so I did not want other dogs to suffer what my Leo did. I stood there for what felt like hours, looking at the flame go out slowly, dying into embers. I did promise to be committed to the end, and here I was looking at the flames go out. My grandmother was left distraught at because of what happened to the puppy; and at the same time she was weeping because she had just learned from her sister that her brother was hospitalized after he collapsed earlier the same day. For some reason I found it rather disturbing because her weeping for her brother somehow made me irritated because I was trying to pull my mind together after I just lost my puppy. She told me that the dog can be replaced but not her brother. I was left enraged and I told her that it is simply not fair to judge the value of a life depending on if it’s an animal or a human being. I think I have learnt a lot since I made that statement. If you make it to the last line of this post, you will know exactly about the feeling of what I am describing about.

August 2021

I am extremely grateful to God, for being blessed with a wonderful family, cousins and friends. I was able to recover from the feeling of emptiness, earlier than I believed I would. I wanted to stay away from that house, so I was back in my town, out with my friends having lunch at a fancy restaurant. It’s only been two days since I left home, I was out there with my friends trying to help myself heal. I was taking pictures of my friends having fun when I received a message from my mother. I opened it to a rather perplexing and cryptic message which read ” Grandmother serious”.

What makes someone feel worse about something is perhaps not having proper knowledge of the situation, maybe more than the situation in itself. I was tensed, I tried calling my mother several times only for her to not respond to any of my calls. I was however keen to not panic, as thankfully my logic prevailed at the time to help myself acknowledge the fact that my grandmother was old and it is normal for her to experience occasional health issues, and also that my mother really counted on me to offer her support during such a time. Later when I called her, I tried to make her stop crying over the phone and also assured her that I will be there for her. To think that I was on a getaway to escape from the tragic loss of my pet to be only returning back to where I was running away from to learn that my grandmother was suffering in the hospital really got into me. I cannot really explain how I felt, sometimes I just wanted to sleep and not wake up the next day because things only seemed to be getting worse by the day.

I am again grateful that I have wonderful family. When I was away, and my sister and dad were away for work as well, my mother’s cousin stepped in to offer his complete support in every way possible. It was only when I came in and forced him to go home, he stepped away from the hospital. It was a horrible few days at the hospital. Everything was vague because no one could really figure out what was happening and the medical observations were rather blurry and not really positively convincing. My dad stepped in for me the next night; I came back home to get some of my stuff to go back into the hospital again. The next morning we learn that my grandmother has passed. Again, I do not know why I did not cry, at least maybe not immediately. I think I did a good job convincing myself that I will not appear weak to any eyes, at least for the sake of my mother, who was a single child and an only daughter. Everyone who knew my grandmother always told me that she always wanted a baby boy too, but were really not in a financial condition to afford a quality life for another child. It was a very strong decision, because it is admirable that she put the quality of her daughter’s and family’s life over her own desires. That is what she was, a strong willed, independent woman, who loved us more than anything in this world. Like everyone even she had her flaws. She had a way of speaking that could easily provoke anyone, she also had a way to make sure that she got what she wanted done even at the cost of other’s sacrifices, and they were poorly left acknowledged at the business end as well. We knew what kind of a person she was, but she will always be remembered for the good memories we shared.

I volunteered to stay in the back side of the ambulance along with the body. I closed the windows, I felt sweat dripping into my mask and me finding it extremely difficult to breathe. I think there was a second I wanted to be completely wiped out of existence, and I cried silently but, the hardest way I have ever done. I held her hands on the entire way. I always helped her walk when she found it difficult to, it only felt right that I held her hands into her final destination. When we approached the house, I opened the window to catch a glance of my mother, who stood there silently, with the feeling of shock presiding that of grief. I closed the window in a hurry, and I swept away my tears. I really believed that if my grandmother really needed anything from me, it’s that I take good care of my mother and never let her feel a moment of loneliness. I intended to and always will stay true to that. We are mutually aware that we will only have each other at the worst of times. A difficult few days followed. While we were slowly coping up with the situation, our physical and mental health deteriorated. My mother constantly fell sick and I think I brought myself into a point where the state of how my mother reacted to the circumstance was starting to affect me. I was admitted into a hospital with issues that later proved to be mild, but I was left with constant paranoia and confusion.

I took her ashes to the place I was born, and performed rituals at that blessed, holy site. I returned to my town after that with my mother. I made sure I was with her when we visited the doctor, and that she was soon back to her normal self. Here we are, over a month later. We have physically recovered, but when I’m back at this house, sitting on the chair typing this, I know that my grandmother will forever be missed. There will always be a void left unfilled, but something we must learn to live with.

A very trivial and a hypothetical question that we find asking ourselves, might sound extremely insensitive some but one of absolute logic to others:

If I had a chance to bring one of them back to life, who would it be.

My heart definitely screamed to bring my grandmother back. Now it might seem like I am contradicting my own ideals of treating all lives equally. While I truly do believe this, I think I couldn’t be more wrong in only simply stating it; I think every individual value the life of that which has influenced the life of its own the most, over the others.

We do not know when is the last time we talk to someone, help them in any tiny way possible or maybe even smile at them. It is inevitable that if something happens to any life after we separated with a negative instance, we will forever live to regret that moment. Maybe they only way one can surely overcome this uncertainty in life is to treat all lives with as well as we can, whenever we can. I have made lapses in judgement, regarding many decisions, concerning many lives. We cannot carry the regrets forever, to our end. It is only fair that we try to mend our ways moving forward. I do not know when I will be back here, letting my thoughts run wild and free. But until then.

Keep growing.

image by jannoon28. By freepik.com

Unlocking Doors.

It was finally time. The hour has finally come. I stood outside my apartment, placed my fingers slowly on the doorbell switch, watching as my mom opened the door with a smile like she always does. I took a glance at the stack of shoes near the door. The stickers on the door reverberating hospitality. I called this place home for 10 years. Now my journey has left me at crossroads. This time I had there was no shortcuts or cheat codes to find a way to cling on to my sanctuary spot. In 6 months I will be moving to new lands, looking for opportunities of study to pursue my higher education. I had no choice but to move on. I never believed in being overly attached to inanimate objects, even though I’d argue the case for my phone and computer, I would never really have thought that I would indeed, miss my apartment so much. Every time I stepped out of the doorway and locked the door, my subconscious was keeping a subtle count of how many times I get to repeat the action until I leave the place for good. Suddenly I was flying, as a wild familiar storm of Deja vu blew me off my toes.

Drowsy, maybe it was a boring class. I slowly opened my eyes, with an unpleasant aftertaste of anxiety. Maybe the feeling of separation however did not contain itself within my living premises. The grimness lurked it’s way into my personal and college life. Like every other student would agree, the people and the experiences pulled me towards the college, like a moth towards a candle flame. We were in our final year of study, counting days left for each of us where we can meet, share and have fun together. Many of us chose to follow their path towards a successful career, which meant that many of them would be leaving many of the others behind as they slowly learn to make the transition to work life. A few rare cases of friends ending up in the same workplace proved as exceptions, as the others dreaded the moment when they will have to face the reality of letting their best friends with whom they have spent the best parts of 4 years spent on and off university grounds. This transition apparently presenting itself to be a stumbling block in the smooth road of relationship for couples and friendship in best friends.

Maybe I was a little fortunate in that aspect. I managed to hold onto my love and my boys, at least until the end of the academic year. But it was never going to be easy watching your friends go, and even worse; watch the ones you love suffer from letting go of people close to them. It was like classic cinema; what started off as drama and romance had spiraled into mystery; Everyone quite anxious and filled with speculation of what is to become of their future. It was overwhelming, I was falling deep into that endless pit; and I opened my eyes, finding myself staring at an uninteresting roof.

My phone rung so loud that it deafened me for a second. Rather strange, to receive a call this late. I looked at the time, and then at the date. I smiled as I knew what came next is going to stay in my head for a long time to come. The next moment, I was lying on the bed eyes wide open, trying to find that glorious moment that would put me into a deep peaceful sleep; something that has evaded me since the thought of moving out was planted in my head. I looked around me and I saw three absolutely crazy, weird misfits around me, sleep deprived, tired, all passed out with tiny stains of my birthday cake near their mouths. These guys welcomed me to this place when I was just a boy, just 10 years of age. From somewhere between fighting for our favorite seats in school buses and long spicy conversations about our love lives we managed to enjoy each other’s company; and also put up with each other’s anomalies.

My head hit the window and I woke up with a start. I could see my buddy complaining onto my face about how I fell asleep in the bus when I was actually supposed to be sharing some of my interesting stories with him. Him reminding that I had only six months left to do all these did not help my anxiety. I had to remind him often that I would be in fact moving onto higher levels of education and not afterlife. Even though we had to endure long hours of travel to commute between our homes and college, it presented us with the gift of time to share and engage. The conversations kept the trip alive and joyful, at least when I was not dozing off next to a very curious person sitting next to me disgruntled at my choice of nap times. I’m a late night person, so it was only natural that a second later I found the same window pane I had just crashed onto; to be a soft quilt for me to fall asleep on.

I felt a soft hand around my face. Slowly tapping my nose, in a cute way to wake up. I moved my head around a bit, enjoying the comfort and warmth I felt resting on those legs. I opened my eyes and I knew I was looking at my favorite person in the whole wide world. I was treated to a menacing smile, something that was in equilibrium with ‘that felt good’ and ‘we’re late for class!’. Sometimes I enjoyed being a bit of a rebel, as I reasoned with her to let me get comfortable for some more time. But I was dealing with a rather responsible person here. Soon I was dragging myself to a class I absolutely did not like attending; A necessary evil in this case maybe. Maybe physically present, but again little did I know I’d be drifting into another world which had nothing much to do with computers and e-commerce.

The alarm was screaming into my ears. I felt like I’d just been dizzy punched by a bear. I wish I could just go back to sleep. My eyes looked tired, my mind weakened with fatigue. But it was another day. A new window for new experiences. Another chance to do something new with the people I love spending time with. Another day of the six months. I thought going back into the trance of sleep where I could relive my moments made me happy, at least until I realized that looking forward to a new day, to meet everyone again was actually what was driving me forward.

Images by freepik.com

Out in the Rain.

The bright sun throwing the mighty rays of sunshine in all directions, sky blue filled with effervescent clouds floating away like fluffs of cotton. Birds chirp filling the air, white noise that blends in with the song of the gentle whistling breeze.Grass dry and warm caressed by sunshine. The brick red earth. A mere frame in a point of time. A defined moment in a series of events that follows. The moment lasts not long, as the transition rushes in; bringing in an absolute change in the nature of everything. The bright sun consumed by the dark clouds, with the merry fluffs of cotton rushing back home seeking sanctuary just like the birds, back into their cozy nests, protected by the leaves of the tree; their entitled protector.

The living seeking shelter, darkness spreading marking the arrival of a storm; Like how a king announces his arrival, the storm often accompanied by the forces of lightening and thunder. From light drizzles to thunderstorms that dazzles the feeling of peace; it would still be terribly unjustified to call rain an embodiment of fear. It would be fair however to maybe consider it equivalent to the transition of human emotions. Drizzles accompanied with sunlight just enough to produce a rainbow painted with happy colors, heavy rain synonymous with the release of overwhelming grief and thunderstorms, that carry the same magnitude of intimidation as that of rage and anger.

Rain is as much as an expression of emotion as it is a representation of balance and change. To put it quite simply, every drop of water that evaporates to vapor and disappears into thin air like salt in water experiences the freedom of adventure. Every drop restrained by it’s state, restricted movement determined by it’s surroundings, now suddenly achieving a state of absolute bliss, now unchained moving freely in the atmosphere like school children in a playground; appreciating the feeling of freedom over collective belonging like a bird who wishes to fly rather than live it’s life with another in a golden cage.

Yet the drops do not have the privilege to be free forever, they have to end their journey, where the destination also happens to be the very point they started their voyage towards change. Every drop of water is the reflection of a living soul. They start their journey alone, they make family, and then when the time comes, they breathe in the life sustaining element of oxygen for the last time, breathing out their demons of grief, regrets and responsibilities, before they take a whiff of freedom. The change is inevitable. As they say, change is the rule of nature. Yet we grieve death, we cry over loss of our loved ones. We cry because we lose things we held close to our heart. But do we shed tears looking at ice turn into water? We accept this change but falter when we need to embrace the reality in dire circumstances.

But the power of expression is incomparable; it seems a necessity to express and pave way for a shower rather than hold it in and let it undergo metamorphosis into a full fledged volcano. But crying over loss for an indefinite period of time is not any good. Imagine continuous rainfall, without a pause, like a daily marathon. Destruction of crops, flooding and all other kinds of damage to the living. Now we learn to connect rain with overwhelming grief, mixture of emotions and darkness. Rain is a teenager inflicted by mood swings. And yes, there is a prospect for joy and happiness.

The sun is covered by dark clouds, accompanied by an eerie sky tinged with darkness and a cold breeze. Some drops find their way out of the clouds, and then it’s an uproar, water pouring down onto the earth. A small girl looks out of her window. The best part of the year has only presented her with scorching heat and dry weather. When she sees rain, her heart is brimming with happiness, just like the small clay pots in the garden overflowing with rain water; and all the flowers seem to be smiling at her, vibrant and full of color. The grass looks greener with drops of water washing away it’s dullness. The brick red earth has turned chocolate brown, comes alive as it generates a fragrance of it’s own. The little girl rushes out into the rain, trying to grab the falling drops from the air.

The rain eventually ceases, sunshine slowly returning. Drops of water on leaves and grasses appear like pearls, a rainbow decides to pay a visit, filling everyone with a sense of joy and wonder.

The concept of balance is rather wonderful. Everything in nature life and death, night and day, heat and the cold; co-existence is a lesson we learn from everything we see around us and every event we experience or go through. The most ideal application of co-existence would be the one between our thinking and that of the phenomenon of change. Because when we truly learn to accept change, we grow. Just like how a tiny caterpillar takes it’s first step to form a cocoon before it turns into an elegant butterfly.

Change can be your nemesis for a second and your savior during another. Let us not fight change, but embrace it.

Images by Bimbimkha. Freepik.com