The clash of the brain and brawn

The recent lockdown has all of us cooped up in the confines of our homes which is a bag of mixed emotions. For me particularly, the lockdown has brought house-work and a feverish craze to clean and sparkle the home, which isn't a bad thing, after all but it does have serious implications - I am unable to give myself to any intellectual or academic work. Reading, writing and attending to various activities of critical insights leading to a paper in a journal/book is practically impossible for me. But on the days when I set aside the housework-that-never-ends, I am able to focus on activities that require the brain and not brawn.

I have often wondered on the disparity of the brain and brawn. Many friends who are academics don't much indulge in house-work for it is time and energy consuming leaving no time for any other work. Here I am also tempted to think that I have always given more weight to work that involves the mind instead of physical work but the lockdown has brought to the surface ground realities - The house work cannot be ignored and I being I, cannot leave anything half done (The saying, Well begun is half done has always given rise to a conflict in me!). Cooking has become an elaborate affair and so has cleaning and shining the sundry stuff around me. I enjoy seeing the work of my hands and take pride in the sweat of my brow but I'm not quite content; I think of the academic work that could have been done in this time of lockdown. This is when existential angst smothers me and I start missing my helps. How I wish they would relieve me of this but I also know that I am a better worker than them - cooking tasty food and shining my vessels and clothes brighter. I am perpetually drenched in sweat and always on the run - vessels, clothes, hair everywhere (my nonhuman companion's) and of course, the plants and the cobwebs! Sigh.

Someone I know refers to housework as menial job which requires no much thought but mechanical rendering of the work and I think that person is right - Because when I tick off each finished task, I am glad that I don't have to be critical or analytical (perhaps analysis into how to remove that oil stain or how to reach a corner which my help has conveniently overlooked through for eight years!). And at the end of the day, I sometimes feel happy that there is no much thinking involved - at the same time missing the fact that I could have written couple of essays or short articles.

At the end of the day, the brain and the brawn keep me engaged and away from thoughts that arise from the dark labyrinth of the social media though I am yet to master the art of detachment from the same. But I do wish earnestly that I manage time to distribute to both the Bs - the brain and the brawn.

Being home!

Home is the new downtown! The rooms are the places we visit when we need a little break now and then from the same rooms. The sound of a distant train catches my attention and I'm all ears - we haven't heard a train in the last few days. I try to gauge the train by the time only to realise that my kitchen tap has a leak and hence sounds like a passenger train. Small mercies! I let that tap be - I enjoy the sound of the train that is otherwise impossible to hear during these days.

My nonhuman companion, Feni, is a welcome entity in these quiet times. Taking care of him, understanding his language and entertaining him and us is another new routine which we enjoy and relish. I often wonder whether he understands that we are with him 24/7 - Is he happy? Is he stress-free without having to gaze at empty walls and chew furniture. He hardly bothers about the furniture or anything remotely chewable. I think he is indeed happy.

Sometimes thoughts rush in where angels fear to tread - but I allow them to run their course and pass. Sometimes I do give in to them and feel despondent but that is a normal behaviour, I reckon. I engage in sundry works around the house - It's nice to see clean and well lit spaces! I seem to cultivate new routines and re-routines. Actually there is no routine - I do what I ought to do and I do them mindfully.

My reading has been awful, though! I had imagined that I would read like there is no tomorrow only to realise that every tomorrow comes and quickly leaves without me reading. It's a phase, I concur and let that settle in.

I have been cooking delicious meals and enjoying eating them at our own pace. We don't have a clock at home; The mobile's time is our go-to which we ignore going to these days. Time is a forgotten entity unless the mobile is in our hands. It's wonderful to reverse roles. How long you have kept me in your clutches - now it is my turn! It's a moment of victory.

I hope you are doing well and keeping yourself amused by observing your queer antics!

Leaving you with a 1964 pop song that I have been listening to of late, written by Hatch Anthony Peter and performed by Petula Clark.

Downtown

When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go - downtown.
When you've got worries all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help I know downtown.

Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown
Things will be great when you're downtown
No finer place for sure downtown
Everything's waiting for you.

Don't hang around and let your problems surround you
There are movie shows downtown.
Maybe you know some little places to go to
Where they never close downtown.

Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova
You'll be dancing with 'em too before the night is over
Happy again.

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go - downtown
Where all the lights are bright downtown
Waiting for you tonight downtown
You're gonna be alright now
Downtown
Downtown
Downtown

And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you
Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand to
Guide them along.

So maybe I'll see you there
We can forget all our troubles, forget all our cares
So go downtown
Things will be great when you're downtown
Don't wait a minute more downtown
Everything is waiting for you
Downtown
Downtown
Downtown
Downtown
Downtown
Downtown
Downtown...

Made in China

Yesterday while cleaning my book shelf, I came upon a beautiful box - you know the drift - The box in hand leads to a myriad of memories yellowed with time and exaggerated emotions. But the box in question was a fairly recent gift, say two years and I lovingly caressed the same when lo! behold, I came upon the three words, MADE IN CHINA. I felt a cold shudder. The beautiful box seemed to have lost its sheen and felt like a heavy stone in my hand. I looked around and many beautiful objects that were housed in my home were from China. Needless to say, my mind quickly thought of the present virus - which is incidentally MADE IN CHINA! I thought of the many strings which are presently attached to the country - The barrage of angry Whatsapp forwards, call to boycott Chinese products and stop eating noodles (the post did not mention manchurian recipes!), the xenophobia against the people from north-eastern India because of their facial features which are Mongoloid. I think how hate spreads easily through technology and it isn't difficult to arouse a group of people who are constantly fidgeting with their mobiles and passing the message to another group of individuals - eerily similar to the way the virus is spreading far and wide. It just takes one unassuming host to propagate the message and then there is a chain - a never ending chain of messages and people who spew hate and venom and awaiting a chance to strike - virtual and real.

The mob psychology is fascinating to observe and study. It had been thought that fiery speeches and rousing words kindle the minds of unsuspecting people who then act accordingly. I think of Marc Anthony and his powerful, "Friends, Romans, Countrymen . . ." which stirred the crowd into a mob and let loose fury and blood-thirst. Today, one has to tap away on a mobile and innocently forward a xenophobic message and then witness how hell breaks loose. Technology is both a curse as well as blessing. It becomes the instrument of the hand that uses it.

As for me, I ruminated on the array of brilliant products that the Chinese could conceive of and only imagine how our homes would be without their products.

Hopefully, like other Chinese goods, the virus also should be short-lived, is my supplication.

Hope you are safe and aware.

My brush with lockdown(s)

I am not unfamiliar to lockdowns. I remember my first lockdown - it was in April 2011, a month before I was to get married. I was down with chicken-pox. I know that it does mean a big setback in terms of wedding shopping and all that jazz but it was bliss in disguise of a disease. I was brought back from the place I was teaching during that time - Tiruvarur by a special car which was hired by my mother. After I set foot at home in Chennai - it was quarantine till the shiny balls disappeared. I lived sans bath, sans spice and sans mirror - you would know the usuals if you had experienced chicken-pox. But the icing on the cake was that I MISSED most of MY wedding shopping, which was done kindly by my dear mom and sister. Those were the days of no Whatsapp so no videos and photos of clothes could be sent; My sister would call me and describe the design to the best of her abilities and I without even listening, would remark, "Buy whatever you feel would look good on me." So much so for my wedding shopping. The best part  comes now - juices to coll my body down, not to mention the buttermilk and tender coconut water! Bland food did not appeal much but I saw that as a detox. My skin and hair looked healthy, my complexion revived, my mind was clear and before I forget, I completed reading a book (not advisable) which was catching dust in my modest library.

Today's lockdown is different - Of course I am cooped up at home, which is not unusual but I am devoid of the luxury of getting food and drinks served at my bed side. I cooked, cleaned and did a bit of reflecting and was generally a relaxed home body wondering about the next area to be cleaned or next book to be read. But the feeling of quiet has seeped in but I also have a niggling thought on stocking up of essentials in case Goa decides to extend the lockdown of today.

You see, I don't have my mother to worry about those aspects.

Hope you have been well and content in times as these.

Going on . . .

Sometimes, I wondered aloud in class that we were a generation which hasn't witnessed any major wars, plagues and life-turning events. I didn't know whether it was good or bad because I have often heard my parents and grandparents discuss events like the Indo-Chinese war, Independence, Emergency and so on. I wondered how it would seem to be living in the midst of crises yet going on with life and living. I should acknowledge the fact that there was no social media to escalate the range of the events but even then, I had imagined the fear in the air which seeped into the minds.

Then 2019 and 2020 came along bringing some traumatic and fearsome events, which perhaps would be my share of anecdotes for future narration.

The anti-CAA agitations across the country

The riots of Delhi

The fear mongering messages across the capital

Corona Virus

These events have not entered my circle of geographical location but it has definitely seeped into my mind and the people's collective unconscious. Being a minority has given me my own fears and having dear ones travelling has triggered a COVID-19 scare. I assume that these kind of fear would have accosted the minds of my people when there were events happening in the country even though they were far removed from the circumference of the danger zone. Of course, for viruses and wars, the fear is a collective one which is evenly spread and quite panic-ridden.

I know that this would pass but living in these times is like the unknown fear which torments and asks one to rise up and act.

2020 Meanderings

2020 began with thoughts of decades, achievements and general goodwill. Social media was ablaze with the Citizenship Amendment Act and its implications - sometimes it felt as if Apocalypse was at the doorstep so much so that it did not feel like one was heralding a brand new year. It is a new decade and year nevertheless. A new year, no matter what, engages one in introspection and a sense of beginnings. If you are of the reflective kind, then the old giving way to new holds the tugs of your heart's strings and coerces you to look back and forward.

I was thankful for 2019 on a personal level while I was in trepidation about the general happenings around me and my country. While my heart was overflowing with the turn of events in my life, I was unable to savour them because my country was reeling under protests of CAA and related issues. The economy of my country worries me in spite of me not being an economist. Can one be happy about something when the country is at a loss for common sense?

But hope is a good thing and I have it flowing in abundance out of the depths of my being and as long as it is present, I could gladly look forward to 2020.

How was it for you?

May we face the coming year, 2020, with the steady serenity of a tree — that supreme lover of light, always reaching both higher and deeper, rooted in a network of kinship and ringed by a more patient view of time.

(Via Brain Pickings)

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