I am often stuck on some problem in my work as a software developer, while other times I am unable to think of a topic to write about on my blog. In such moments, I feel the need for a thinking cap. Recently, I realized that I had the thinking cap all along and not just me: you, he, she, they; we all have it and let me tell you how you can effectively use it.
I thought of an idea of satire in February this year, 2025; however, I was able to finish the blog just last week, in mid-July, in the same year. The period between conception and creation was about five months. Five months indeed might be a long time, but if you ask me, I still believe that I am happy to have finally finished it, because for a long time, I was not going anywhere with the story. By the way, if you are interested in the story in question, you can read: Don’t You See, I am Trying to Save You. Suddenly, I had an inspiration last week, and it was clearer to me how my story ends, and with the inspiration, I finished the story.
When the inspiration came, I was wearing a thinking cap, and I didn’t even know about it. I have been using that cap, yet I was not deliberate, and hence, unable to utilize the full capacity of my thinking cap. It took me years to appreciate its powers, and yet it’s not an easy task to be able to reap maximum benefits. Let me break the suspense and introduce you to the thinking cap.
My thinking cap is walking alone, driving, or riding a bicycle. Given that I am not talking to anyone either directly or via my phone, not listening to any music or podcast. In essence, my higher mind is completely free while some other parts of my brain are busy with routine tasks such as ensuring I am not falling off the road or hitting a vehicle next to me or putting my body in any kind of danger. In this state, thoughts flow freely. It may appear simple, but it is anything but simple. My brain doesn’t want to work as a result; whenever I am opting for walking, I get a strong urge to listen to any music, podcast, or audiobook. I even get an urge to take all my pending calls, and believe me, I take most of my calls while walking. While driving, there is no option to entertain my brain, yet I do not get a lot of driving opportunities. Nevertheless, if I can tame my mind and not entertain it, I achieve the state where thoughts start inundating me. Our minds crave distraction, but it’s in those quiet, undistracted moments that genius whispers. Yet there is another difficulty other than the difficulty of will power.
Whenever I am in a thinking-cap state by the act of walking, cycling, or driving, I don’t have conscious control over my thoughts. The only thing guaranteed is that there are a lot of them. I remember many times enduring depressing thoughts originating from some trivial incident of wrongdoings, such as a disagreement with a colleague, someone not following a traffic rule, some wrongdoings of the distant past, etc. Sadly, there is no solution to this predicament. The only solution I can think of is to maximize the thinking cap time. Let’s say that on average 25 percent of time, happy and creative times are flowing into my higher mind, then spending ten hours a week will give two and a half hours of creative time which I can translate into good work if I can follow up on the head start, and that is another challenge of the thinking-cap state, the thoughts are ephemeral.
Willpower is essentially required to maximize the creative time, but following up with the creative time is even more important; otherwise, the two and a half hours I calculated earlier would amount to a big zero if I am unable to follow up on my thoughts. It so happens that the thoughts that flow in the thinking-cap state don’t last long and dissipate like a dream sequence. It is highly important to note down creative thoughts. When I had the inspiration last week for closing my satire, I straight away opened my laptop and finished writing; however, it was a coincidence that I was able to use my laptop to write, after walking. It may not be the case, always. To this, I have a solution: note apps. I have downloaded an app that is just there to note down inspirations like these so that I can work on; however, something tells me that even that won’t be sufficient. I have a feeling that if I write it down and don’t look at it again for months, I will lose interest in the inspiration, and it won’t be that appealing to me to drive me to write about it. Hence, a recommendation to self and all, begin the work on your inspiration within twelve hours of achieving it.
Let me summarize the effective ways to use our thinking cap: 1 – Give the thinking-cap state enough time, perform activities like cycling, driving, and walking without any music, podcasts, etc. 2 – Once the inspiration comes, write it down as soon as possible, preferably before you forget all about it. 3 – Start the work on your inspiration within twelve hours of the inception of the idea.
Next time, if you are stuck with a work problem, looking for an idea to draw, write, or compose, or seeking a business idea, try this thinking cap, make effective use of it. Next time you feel stuck at work, in art, or in life; take a walk without your phone. Your best ideas might be waiting at the next corner.
It was a great winter month, but more importantly it was a month of many good news for the people living in the lost village of Kokara in the state of Odisha, India; for finally they have been discovered by concrete road, electricity and the rest of the world. Kokara was cut off from the world when a water stream falling in the lake Chilika changed its direction and flooded the surrounding area though some might say that it was a blessing in disguise for the villagers in Kokara had been spared by war and subversion; and they meet the world in a new and independent India. Since the water stream dried, the village was discovered by the youths of the nearest village who were on the mission to kill boredom and find something delicious to eat.
The first prominent human to visit the village was the collector of Ganjam, the district under which the village was marked. The story of the visit made it into the national newspaper and soon the village was inundated with visitors. The academics came with their never-ending questions; the tourists came for their never-ending curiosity. The visitors brought all kinds of alien and fascinating items: packets of biscuits, juices, cakes and all kind of edibles. The villagers were so pampered by the outsiders that soon most of them fell sick, which was a blessing in disguises because soon they received healthcare, perhaps quicker than any other village in the history of human existence. Roads and electricity followed afterwards. The lost village featured every day in newspaper and on television. There were so many stories about their eating habit, their rituals and customs, their language which was in some way similar to the current language of the region and their amazement at this newfound world beyond their watery borders. This discovery was a boom for newspaper industry because their sale almost doubled since everyone wanted latest news about the lost village and it took almost two months for the newspaper sale to return to normal. Even Kokara was unrecognizable post this duration, because concrete bridge was built to connect it with the mainland, the inner village dirt roads were transformed into the brick road, there was a torrent of incoming motor vehicles which fascinated the youth of the village yet the life of people in that village was still same, fishing and planting but mostly fishing.
When the dust settled and the newspaper stopped talking about it, they came; when the discovery was a mare past memory among the masses, they came; when the number of visitors has dwindled a new unique visitor, man in his late fifties, arrived, not for curiosity or amazement but with a self-proclaimed vital mission in his mind.
The man named John arrived at the village in his long hat and black robe, he had lost most of his hairs and his face was wrinkled with worries of years. He went to the first young man he could find and asked him to gather everyone for he has brought something valuable for all. The young man who was by then used to the amazing eateries and instruments was neither delighted nor disappointed by this encounter since he has nothing more interesting to do, he did what he was told and soon whoever was getting bored gathered under the shade of a Neem tree.
Once old John saw that no more were coming, he went to each person, shook their hand and chanted, “God is merciful!”. People looked at him in amazement for all the crazy things they had witnessed in the last few months, it was a clear winner. “God is merciful”, John continued, “for he dried the river so that I can come and save your souls, you see my good people, you have been under the influence of demons, worshiping it and offering it your prayer while God was an unknown to you, but it’s never too late, you can still renounce your demons and start believing in the God and his son…..”. While some were still trying to make sense of these words, those who were smart enough to follow with John’s words came closer to him, grabbed him by the neck and started pulling him out and they didn’t stop till they were at the bridge. If the reporters would have been around, they would have got their headlines, for it was first recorded instance of violence by the people of Kokara in the known history.
The forceful expulsion of John for demeaning remarks against village culture reached the ears of Saga-ram, the most ancient being in the village. He was unhappy with the incident and he reprimanded the people involved for acting crazy around the crazy.
The village life resumed as usual, there was now a school in the village to teach the young mind, but the arrangements were not like other schools in the region. It was operational only once a week and every month there was a new teacher who would arrive and teach. Teaching was just too important a job to conduct regularly by a few permanent teachers. The youth and the kids were learning to write what they have normally conversed on a regular basis, and kids were specially fascinated. That one day of the week was a day they always looked forward to because it broke the monotony of their normal existence. Even this routine was finally broken by the return of good old John, some five months after his expulsion. He returned with two of his female colleagues and a new teacher. Villagers, still annoyed by John’s last visit were simply looking for some excuse to make the visit more interesting, they were disappointed since all four went straight to the school.
The teacher of the month very happily announced that, John and his colleague would help them teach. They would come every day except one to teach while the weekly visit of a teacher would continue. That day it was mostly about setting things up by the newcomers. The next Day John and his colleagues arrived in the late morning. Kids gathered but there were not as many as there was the day before. Some families were skeptic about this new arrangement while others had too much work to send their kids and teens to study for more than one day of the week. This didn’t bother any of the newcomer. While John sat on a chair, his colleagues, Martha and Agnes started interacting with the kids. They continued teaching the kids alphabets of Odia and English, writing words and sentences and history of India. In the afternoon before ending the education session, John took over the teaching and began his monologue. “Kids! Today I will tell you how the world was created.” He continued, “On the first day, God created the Earth and heaven, and he said let there be light and then there was light. On day two, God separated heaven from Earth, on the third day God created ground and sea and plants. On the fourth day, God created Sun and Moon and on the fifth day …..” “How do you know it was fourth day when there was no Sun?” Asked, Ghungru, the smartest of the class. “God knows everything,” replied John. “On the fifth day, God created fishes and on the sixth day, God created Animals and then he finally created us Humans, on the seventh day, God rested, that is why we don’t work on the seventh day, Sunday.”
“Did God sleep in the night like we do?” “Sure, yes, we are in Gods image, so definitely God worked during the day and slept in the night.” “Did other Gods help this God in the work?” John wanted to say a lot, yet he couldn’t, the direct method of communication was not working. John was after all a smart person. He remembered the raze, a college professor felt during a confrontation with him during one of his roadshows of “Words of God.” The professor was questioning his faith with stupid question, such as how do know that your god isn’t delusional when he taught you that Sun revolves around Earth and John replied that, isn’t it obvious, we do see Sun rise up in the east and set in the west. The professor lost his cool over John post that argument. How can people believe in stupid facts like “Evolution”, “Earth is not the center of the Universe” or “God could be wrong”.
The new routine worked like a clock, and since the folks in the village were now well aware of the calendar, they were able to guess on what day John and his colleagues would not arrive or on which day government teacher would arrive. Sunday was a day of break for John and his team while Wednesday was the day on which the teacher would teach and asses the progress of education of the folks of the village. The village teens and kids were making sound progress in their useless education. All of them, since the time they could speak, had been training in fishing, boating, agriculture, crafting etc. the skills directly translated into visible outcome. They had hard time imagining the usefulness of being able to read some piece of paper, yet they persisted because they understood that in the outside world, one can produce food by reading from a page and they were eager to learn that magic. The classes were not too bad, and they enjoyed the final session of the day which to them was story time. Story of a particular god who created the world, destroyed the world, helped someone, impeded someone else, send messages, send his family members, give different instruction in different stories. Even though weird, stories were fun to listen to. The same fun was not there for John. While the education was going great, he was still unable to show progress to his peers. After a year since he came, there was nothing to show for, forget about being able to convert a villager, he was not able to do any sermon. He tried to organize a few, yet no one showed up except his bored students. He was criticized by his peers for his opening. Once trust is lost, it is difficult to regain was something he heard often from his peers, which he made a note of for his future missions. It was agreed within his organization that John need a helper, someone who could be the new face of their endeavor. Andrew was selected for this job to be the new face of their mission. They also decided to change the tactics and invest more time in understating the current culture of the village which could help in forming strategies in saving the villagers, after all ensuring that the villagers believe in their version of God was of vital importance, even more important than surviving and so they believed.
Andrew was a proactive and pragmatic middle-aged man who loved to converse with people even beyond the realm of faith. He began door to door campaign to understand the current faith of the people. During his visits he would listen and ask questions patiently and he tried his best not to validate their stories against his own stories, which was off course one of the most difficult tasks he had ever undergone, and he proved stronger than John for he didn’t blurt that the people there, were believing in the false stories and what actually happened was part of the book available to him. God was perhaps lazy and couldn’t reach to these people on time to tell the truth, now it is up to people like John or Andrew to correct God’s mistake. Through their stories, Andew got a clear picture. The people of Kokara believed in many deities, but mainly worshiped Sea and the Sun. The manifestation of both were in a shrine under an ancient Peepal tree. They also believed that the stream was a minor deity. The sea held a lot of power over them, it was a source of food, yet it was a cause of destruction; Sun held a special place because in the presence of the Sun, the Sea was calmer.
One day, Andrew came in contact with the village elder, Saga-ram, a man who was over 80 years old and was the sole problem solver of the entire village. He was also the reason for lack luster performance of John, Andrew and company because everyone consulted Saga-ram and Saga-ram never believed in a single word of the John and Andrew, though Andrew was not aware of this passive resistance by village’s most ancient being. Andrew found Saga-ram in the front yard of his home, lost in deep thoughts that only Saga-ram could follow. Andrew reached out to Saga-ram and held his hand and in a loud whisper said, “God is merciful!”. This was the signature greeting of the organization, Andrew, John and others were part of. Saga-ram just listened. After the greetings, Andrew went with basic icebreakers which ranged from “How are you?” to “Do you think it will rain a lot this month?” After the icebreaker, Andrew jumped guns. Andrew: “Do you believe in higher power? Someone who creates controls all of our life and the Universe.” After the pitch, Andrew went silent and patiently waited for Saga-ram to respond. Saga-ram: “I do believe in a power greater than anything else.” Andrew was delighted with this response because every time he has pitched the question to someone else, the response had been vague and close ended. Andrew: “We too believe in a higher power, just one power.” Saga-ram: “Good! good for you.” Andrew was disheartened by that close ended response, still he forced the conversation. Andrew: “Do you know why I am here? I am here because that one true power inspires me to spread its words, it fills me with a purpose to ensure that there is no one in the world who doesn’t believe in that power. That purpose has led me here in this village.” Saga-ram was amused by the monologue, because he understood exactly why this person was bothered to sit with him. Saga-ram: “You want me to believe in a higher power, but I already believe in that, everyone in this village believe in that, you think it is us who ensure that our boats return safely from the sea? No! The higher power ensure that we get back safe and sound.” Andrew was frustrated inside but made a calm demeaner, smiled and thought to himself, this is my chance, I should make my case. Andrew: “You may believe in the higher power, God, but you pray to the devil.” Saga-ram: “What is a devil?” Andrew: “A false god, a trickster.” Saga-ram: “But you said that there is only one higher power!” Andrew: “God is the highest power, he created angels, lesser power than God and devil is one of those lesser powers.” Saga-ram: “And you think that we worship that devil, when we worship the Sea and the Sun.” Andrew: “Yes! Precisely.” Andrew was feeling triumphant, finally someone was getting his message. Though his good feeling was ephemeral. Saga-ram: “Which one? Which one is the devil, the Sea or the Sun.” Andrew: “Devil has many underlings?” Saga-ram: “Like God has angels.” Andrew: “Yes! Precisely.” And Andrew was feeling triumphant again. Saga-ram: “You are very funny, Sir; you say that there is just one higher power and then you bring devil a rival power and then you bring minions of both the higher power. How are you able to believe in such complicated stories, you must be crazy.” Andrew: “You are not being reasonable, don’t you see I am trying to save you.” Saga-ram: “Save me from what?” Andrew: “If you won’t believe in God, devil will take your soul.” Saga-ram: “Why is it bad that the Sea will take me with her.” Andrew: “The hell is not in the sea; it is place of eternal suffering.” Saga-ram didn’t say a word; he remained silent and amused at the fuming face of his visitor. Finally, he asked. Saga-ram: “What do you do?” Andrew: “I am the messenger of god, I save people.” Saga-ram: “No, I mean other than this.” Andrew: “This is what I do, I save people’s soul.” Saga-ram was left bewildered for a moment. It took him some time to compose his thoughts and then he replied. Saga-ram: “I have loved the sea since forever; it is my place of worship and enlightenment, I used to bring food, the fishes from the sea and I have been the best at it. When I grew old, I taught this skill to my children, now they do what I did. We lead a simple life here in the village, but I heard the outside world is far ahead of us, there has been men on the moon we see in the night sky, there are talking machines and in all that you are saying that your only task is to be a crazy and convert others to make more crazies like you. Your life must be very meaningless.” Andrew stayed silent and thought, there is no getting through to these people.
Andrew left the place went to school to his colleges John and others. The last few months has been frustrating for him. Though he was able to deliver his message to the others, there was no outcome. They were unable to convert a single person with all the effort they put overtime and the conversation with Saga-ram was a final blow. Andrew, who was so sure about his new strategy earlier, was then contemplating the reasons behind their lackluster performance. Agnes: “What should we do, next, continue the teachings or leave.” Andrew: “No, we must not lose hope, and regardless, teaching is a service, and we should continue that.” John: “Why do you think, it’s not working out for us.” Andrew: “Ah, well! Whenever I bring the subject of saving their soul after death, they seem to become uninterested in the conversation. As if death is something too far or inconsequential.” John: “Strange! Are they not afraid of death.” Andrew: “They are, they are, however, they seem to be devoid of need to lead a good life after death, and I think I might know why.” John: “Is it because they don’t have afterlife in their cultural belief?” Andrew: “No it’s not that; I think their life is sufficiently fulfilling. They have enough land to build home, they have enough food in terms of fishes and produce, they are even independent for clothing. They have nothing to pray for, nothing to bribe for.” John: “You might be right, Andrew! in that case, I think it’s clear what we must do.” Martha: “What is that brother John!” John: “We must hope and pray to God that their boats return empty handed, their crops fail, and they are marred with diseases. They should suffer in this life so that they long for deliverance in the afterlife and start believing. Then we shall be able to save their soul.” All: “Absolutely.” Andrew: “God must help us here, after all, we are trying to save them.” With that remark, Andrew looked up the sky for any sign of approval and right then it began to rain.
They may enjoy the Feelings of Adventure yet it’s not their Adventure.
These days I am doing a lot of rethinking, and I would credit it to Adam Grant, for his book ‘Think Again’ inspired me. A lot of this rethinking is directed towards the way I live my life. I have always loved and enjoyed a good story, either via books or via moving pictures. Now though, I am trying to analyse my pass-time. I asked one simple question to myself, “What is the one thing the characters in books never seem to do?”
I am doing a lot of reading these days (a lot considering my line of work: Software Developer). The current book that I am reading is by my favorite author Gabriel Garcia Marquez; it’s called “Love in the time of Cholera”. I had listened to the audiobook of the same a long time ago, but I bought the paperback to enjoy more time with my characters. Factually a lot of the incidence in the book is inspired by the love story of the author’s parents. The story of young love who were destined to go separate way only to find their way back in their old age is a gripping plot and a true masterpiece. It’s all well and good, yet the rethinking question is, “What is the one thing the characters in this book never seem to do?” The answer is, they hardly read a book at least not in the foreground of the story. The same is true for any fiction you are reading or any film/tv-series you are watching. The characters are living their life in full while we are living their life, enjoying it vicariously. Can we do better?
If someone reads our life story and, in that story, if we are spending most of our time on couch living vicariously then certainly to the reader of that story our life would appear boring. Reading books or watching movies do give us an escape from reality and it is fruitful against the pressure and torment of real life yet the sense of achievements we receive is not ours but the characters of the story. If a character is well liked by most and they win the day, it is their victory not ours hence in reality we gain no experience, no memory nothing worth sharing by just watching or reading a story. It is definitely not difficult to do most of the stuff that a character is doing. Take a romantic movie for example, we typically see a man and a woman fall in measureless love, the man tries his best to give the woman best of dating experience, either he cooks for her or take her to a restaurant with a nice ambience, he attends to all her needs, he listens to her and more importantly he is always ready to give his all for her sake, while woman is also deeply in love and she smiles which makes the man’s day (It all happen like this till things turns for the worst before returning finally to the best). Can we not do the same to our woman (or man), is it that hard. If you are still missing your significant half, surely you are not going to find them in your book or on your couch, get out, do something, meet people and when you happened to find them, treat them even better than what the best of romantic authors had imagined. What if I am not into romantic books, you say. What do you like the most then?
If you are someone who likes adventure movies, then go for your own adventure. I like adventures, and ever since I have done rethinking, I am looking for my chance to go on trekking or running around one of the prettiest lakes, I have ever seen. I go out and be part of forums (well it’s Toastmaster in my case) where I meet interesting people. Most of the times in stories, the characters travel and rediscover themself. Traveling in these times is one of the easiest activities you can pick with the most rate of return. In the era of train/flight/road connectivity there are many cool destinations ranging from pristine beaches to snowcap mountains at on average ten hours away. If you are truly an indoor person, then there are many indoor activities for you, draw, cook, paint, make pottery etc., these are just suggestive options, sky is truly the limit if you decide to come out your vicarious unliving session. However, I have an easier solution, are you Interested?
We all have a taste, we like certain kind of story, whether it’s romance or comedy or any other genre. There are certain aspects in the story which appeals to us. We can try to implement that aspect in real life wherever possible (try not to be Superman or Kickass). Do whatever you like your favorite character doing. It is that easy, trust me, and don’t forget to be creative.
I love to cook, and I am always inspired by different foods I see in movies or even documentaries. My inspiration often leads me to supermarkets and then to kitchen. I had my first roasted mutton when I saw it on TV. This is really a simple trick to come out of the vicarious life yet the best idea would be to build your base from vicarious experiences and build skyscrapers on that base. I can give the example of science fiction to explain my metaphor. In a good science fiction book, there are many impossible gadgets, mentioned yet numerous kids take those unreal gadgets as challenge and make them real, when they grow old to be scientists. Kindle was built in this century however Star-Trek-The-Original-Series already had a digital book reader like that the last century; they even had cell phones before they were built in real life. There are many scientists and astronauts who are inspired by many books of Arthur C. Clarke. These inventor and scientist didn’t get lost in the vicarious world they entered rather draw inspiration from it. I implore you to do the same if you don’t want your life story to be a boring one liner (He spend most of his life on the couch reading or watching tv). Do we stop reading books and watching moving pictures all together?
I think no, especially when I have made a point that vicarious adventure can be basis for true adventure. However, there must be a balance and definitely more weightages should be given to the real life. Make your own story ninety percent of time while enjoy only ten percent of the time someone else’s story, if this is too much then at least ensure that you are having more real adventure than vicarious one. Being able to listen to stories is a bliss, being able to tell stories is a gift and yet the true mastery of life is to make life better than the best of the stories. Vicarious unliving is when there is victory only in the stories we encounter. The real living is when stories are our own. Vicarious unliving is easy yet boring, real living is difficult yet interesting. My act of writing this article is also part of my rethinking to walk toward real living as I think, act, live and then write about it.
I am not the only one who has loved and has been disappointed, in fact I have been someone who has disappointed my lover/lovers, yet this I must claim to be anything but trivial. My failure of love story is a great tragedy which almost succeeded in breaking me, yet here I am blogging casually about it, I am a rock that has an organic heart.
I loved this girl, let’s call her Sarah (not her real name) for what it felt like eternity, and I could swear that for most part of that eternity, she loved me too. We even got engaged and yet weeks before our marriage, things fell apart. It took me two years and two months to erase her ever-presence in my life.
Our relationship was strained during the months leading up to the marriage, but I always thought that everything will be alright, once we were married, I hadn’t in my wildest dream imagined that there won’t be any marriage and I would be heartbroken, hence when it did happen, I was shocked and broken beyond repair. I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep for at least two weeks. I lost a lot of weight, but the worst part were the nightmares. Every night I would dream of her, if I was lucky enough to fall asleep and I would wake up suddenly from my dreams, troubled as if I have been in a nightmare. Let me not be very modest and outright call them nightmares because even though they were about just normal stuff, her mare presence in them was enough to fill me with pain and despair. Slowly I recovered, on my own, I am too much of a man to go see a therapist. Even though I had recovered, I was still unwilling to let her go.
Throughout our time together, Sarah and I had made tons of memories. We had pictures, she had given me gifts like shirts and a wallet which I was totally unwilling to part with. I even had a piece of cloth from her bridal dress which she gave me so that I can buy groom’s dress using it so that both our dresses are in sync with each other aesthetically. Thanks to google, I was remined of those memories almost every week via google photo’s notifications. I told myself that by keeping those pictures and items with me, I was proving to her that she doesn’t affect me, but honestly, I was just fooling myself. I was so enraged by our separation that I decided to never forgive her.
It took a while, well more like 2 years to realize that what I was doing isn’t healthy. In order to be truly free from the pain of the past I needed to do two things, first I needed to forgive her and second, I had to let her go. Forgiveness doesn’t come naturally to me, but I managed maybe with 90 percent accuracy. I am 100 percent certain that I forgive her 90 percent. After forgiveness, it was time to let her go, forever. I had to treat her as if she were dead, I had to hold a funeral and so I did. 29th day of every month had always been special to us, because on 29th March in this life, I told her that I loved her, and she reciprocated. Hence, I decided that on 29, I will hold the symbolic funeral (which was yesterday: 29 April 2025).
I had to erase all the memories, and it was no easy task, yet I did with utmost dedication. Prior to 29, I compiled all her pics from my various devices and google photos. I named the compilation goodbye_{her_name}. I brought a new wallet. On 29th morning, I finished the compilation, deleted all the pics from everywhere (it went to trash) and zipped the goodbye_{her_name} folder and buried into the drive of my secondary Gmail account (yeah it survives but somewhere where sun doesn’t shine). In Hinduism, when someone dies, we hold 12 days funeral for the dead, we deprive ourselves of good food and comfort and after 12th day there is ceremony in which the dead is let go followed by religious worshipping and then we eat the best of foods available. This symbolizes that while it’s important to show our respect to the dead, it is equally important to value the living. I replicated the same funeral for her, but instead of 12 days, it was for 12 hours. On 29th, I didn’t eat any food, I survived mainly on tea, coffee and water. In the evening, I went to a temple, and before going inside, I threw away the wallet which she had gifted me a long time ago, the wallet had the piece of her bridal dress. I deleted her number and her chats. I emptied the trash which had all her pics and just like that I had finally let her go. Post letting her go, I thanked gods, ordered tasty burgers from Macdonald and ended the full grieving cycle.
It was the day before yesterday and I would be lying if I say that I feel lighter already, however there are a few visible changes, since her pictures are gone, I won’t be notified by google almost every other day. I have few reasons to think about her now. I can say for certain that I am no longer in her grip. I am in control of my life and it’s mine to steer in any direction I want. I am free.
There will be more dreams, and she might pop in some of those dreams, but I strongly believe that when she returns, I would welcome her with all my hearts because her presence would no longer be a nightmare, but a pleasant dream, for the time spend together (minus last 3-4 months) are nothing sort of invaluable experiences that I will cherish forever. By giving her a symbolic funeral I have brought her from my nightmares and into my pleasant dream where she will live until I take my last breath.
Have you ever loved and desired someone? Odin’s beard, what am I asking, off Course you have loved and desired someone, the relevant genes were passed on to you. However have you loved and desired not one but two, and desired both at the same time? Wait don’t answer that, I know it’s a scandalous question. I have! I have been loving with desire two, for quite some time. If you think loving one is hard, loving two is tiresome, to say the least. Let me put a disclaimer that my love is not virtual but real. My esteemed reader, let me narrate my eventful, triangular love story and if you feel pity on my situation and you have some tips to manage my love life, feel free to share with me later, 1st please hear my plight O virtuous ladies and lords
My oldest love is very sweet, charming, and gentle, whenever I am with her, I feel relaxed as if there is no worry in the world. While most of the time, my love shows me dreams, sometimes she also suffers me through nightmares, just to keep me on my toes. My love is also routine bound, just like me as a result we get along quite fine. We spent hours every day resting, dreaming, and soothing. She is usually very low maintenance unlike girls from engineering colleges. However, if my oldest love came to know that I was with the newest one, she would just not come to me, she would just shut me out for hours before the chemicals the second love has left in my body goes out.
My second love is exactly opposite of my 1st love, and it’s not a figure of speech, they are literally opposite like north magnetic pole and south geographical pole. My second love is not soothing, gentle or sweet, she is toxic, bitter and abrasive. When I am with her, I lose my ability to relax, my heart rate climbs up and the world feels like a war zone. There is no dream and hope for me in her company, it’s just despair
At this point of my story, I am sure you are wondering if I am a fool. If I have someone soothing and sweet, then why do I go after someone who is toxic and bitter. Let me assure you that I am not a fool, it’s the effect that my toxic beloved leaves on me that keeps me bound to her. Do you really think I have not tried to get rid of her. There were months when I would avoid her, it won’t be easy to start with, I would be restless, I won’t be able to concentrate but I do become normal and then there will be a day when I assume that I am over her and I can casually interact with her, I would think that I can be “just-friend” with my beloved, boy would I be ever more wrong. My beloved would entrap me again and I will fall back into her charm. I am a rational person but even I am helpless against the material charms.
Allow me now to introduce you to both my beloved, my 1st beloved who is charming, sweet and soothing is Sleep. She is indeed my 1st love. When I 1st came into the world, there was no one but her, though I don’t remember the time we spent together at dawn. My toxic beloved, who is bitter and addictive is coffee. I know she is bad for me; she doesn’t allow me to relax and she kills my appetite for nourishment, I still go after her. My days are a constant struggle to keep a balance between my two beloved. I try to not fix a date with my toxic beloved in the evening but sometimes I just cannot help myself and give in to the temptation as a result my other love, sleep would stand me up, I would have to plead, beg and make promises (false promises) to bring her back.
My Toxic Beloved
When I lie restless, kissed by my hot toxic beloved, I wonder how my life would have been without the toxic embrace, could I not have found someone more toxic and even fatal, as a result my life could have been worse. I also wonder if I am the only one who despite having someone who heals, goes to someone who hurts. Do we feel that simple and easy is boring and we would rather have someone who imparts a bad influence on us. I am submerged with all my thoughts and then it becomes too much for me and I cry out, “Oh coffee my beloved, would you please come to me!”, and I amble towards a coffee shop.
I don’t know if I should keep struggling to maintain balance, get rid of the toxic one or just give in to my temptation and enjoy life as I go. Even if I get rid of her for good, should I be worried that I might fall for something more toxic. I am asking questions because I truly don’t know the answers but I know that sharing our problem is the second step of resolution, for the problem of fatal attraction. The first step is acceptance. Let’s confront our toxic interaction, let’s avoid our toxic interaction and if we feel powerless, let us at least make sure that the toxicity of one aspect of our life doesn’t drive away the good aspect. Dear Reader, if you have some tips to share with me, get in touch with me via email, meanwhile, I will try not to drink coffee post evening. Meanwhile you try and analyse your triangular love story: Are you involved with morning jog and late night snackathon or are you involved with your liver and party hard spirit or are you involved with success and reels scrolling, if you are recognise your toxic beloved in your triangular love story and if you want to share your plight, I am all ears.
I saw a dream; lived it, worked on it, cared for it, gave it my all and yet Life happened. Just a week before my dream would turn into a reality, Life turned it into an actual nightmare with endless trauma and regrets.
It was no brainer that I was devastated beyond repair, yet repair I must! That was the call of my inner-self. I asked life for an explanation of its cruelty and it remained apathetic to my plight as if it was just some innocent wave, perpetually reducing motionless rocks into sand and gravel. While I was busy interrogating life, my inner-self was working on rebuilding me. My inner-self demanded that I survive. I lost my appetite yet it forced me to eat just enough to breathe; I lost my sleep yet it encouraged me to scrapp for whatever little I could get. Slowly and steadily I increased my food and sleep ration. Slowly and steadily I gained my energy and calmness. I was still traumatized though I was whole. I was still devastated yet I was ready to try and forgive Life, since it is just one that I have and perhaps I will ever have.
As I healed with time, I realised that mathematically, the half-life of my suffering was two weeks, as every two weeks, my suffering was reduced to half and almost two years since the tragedy I can confidently say that I am almost over my shattered dreams. As I recollect those terrible days of my first four weeks of suffering, I am truly enamored by the inner-me, the one that held me to Life, the inner-me that never questioned Life and it’s intentions, rather just accepted it on the face value allowing me time to heal and appreciate Life myself. Just months after bringing the worst tragedy, Life brought me the best moment yet, all too nonchalantly and then I understood why it was breaking me. Life breaks to create exactly like waves breaking rocks to create sandy beautiful beaches. Life doesn’t see the difference in my worst moment and my best moment, for it both are the same, it never felt sorry for the worst and yet never felt pleased with the best for Life doesn’t expect the best or the worst to last, both are just there in one moment diminishes in the next, leaving behind beautiful experience every single time.
I achieved the profound understanding that something is amazing not because it lasts but rather because it’s ephemeral. I understood that experiences are far more valuable than concrete possessions and there is no such thing as a good or a bad experience, it’s just plain experience as valuable as water is to a whale.
With a new outlook I analysed my existence and all the experiences I have accumulated and with respect to the whole existence, this one small tragedy was nothing but a minor inconvenience and it was truly not the first one and unfortunately it won’t be the last. Pain and pleasure both will come as nonchalantly as they will go because the one called Life is not worried about the minor inconveniences rather it is busy crafting a beautiful set of incidents for me.
If my conversations were literal with Life, it would say, “It is I, Life; the only one you would ever get. It is I, Life; the only one with best intentions for you. It is I, Life; the only one making your existence beautiful. It is I, Life; the only one working tirelessly for you. Hence I suggest you stop whining about minor details and focus on the big picture, work with me and accumulate all the experiences I am providing you. Rise and accept me, rise and love me, rise because I am your one true friend for It is I, Life.”
