31 March 2020

I did not think I would get this happy to see fresh pao and a packet of milk delivered at my doorstep! On Saturday evening, I called Ahmed, the guy who used to deliver my milk before corona. He said he could deliver only pao, not milk. I checked with a few of my friends in the neighbourhood and passed on the collective order to him. Sunday morning saw fresh pao in a bag hung on my gate. How do I describe the smell of that pao? 

Monday morning there was a packet of milk! I couldn’t thank him enough. While I do have 4 tetrapaks of milk left, the taste of coffee made with them is just not the same. Considering I have to eat food cooked by me the whole day, I could definitely do with decent coffee in the morning!

You are probably wondering why I am focussing on these tiny things when the world is in chaos - violence against women increasing, migrants within India walking miles and miles, getting hosed down with bleach solution, hunger, the complete abdication of duty by our elected leaders, etc.

There is a school of thought that suggests we focus on what we do have and be grateful for that.; to think of what millions do not have and stop cribbing. Yes, I am very very grateful for all that I have. However, (there is always a but, only now I cloak it as however!) my question has always been this: why should I not focus on those who are better off than me and feel miserable? Just a little bit? If others are worse off than me, does that mean I have no pain, no suffering at all? In relation to them of course, I don’t, but in absolute terms? Of course, the only people better off than me just now are those on some other planet - I don’t know what their life is like, so I cannot compare.

From childhood, one is used to being compared to others - look at X, how well s/he does in class? I have always itched to respond - look at Y, how much worse than me s/he is! Fairly early in life I realised that the only person to compare myself with is me! Which means that I can only give of my best and leave it at that. That does not mean I cannot feel grateful for all that I have or for how much better than others I am doing. It just means that I acknowledge what I feel to be legitimate in itself and try not to wallow in it, knowing this too will pass. 

It is in that spirit that I am maintaining this journal. To try and state what is happening around me, what I am going through, without becoming too whiney. As my father used to say, “Others may catch a cold, but mine is the worst of all.” Clearly because he experienced it the way he cannot experience what others go through, however much empathy he has at hand.

So back to my life - a neighbour asked me if I want any vegetables. I said I would love some tomatoes - 4 shiny red tomatoes landed at my door step a few minutes later. I almost teared up seeing them! I made a super curry with them later. So thrilled!

Yesterday was the day of creatures small inside my house. It started with a baby squirrel that would go upto the door and then come running back in. I left all the doors open through the day but at night it was still there. I left a bowl of water and a bit of fruit for it and gave up. 

Then a fairly large centipede went waltzing along my kitchen floor. The smooth tile slowed it down and I was able to trap it under a bucket. Unfortunately as I pushed the bucket towards the door, the centipede didn’t do too well. By the time I swept it out, it was almost dead! The centipede is one creature that terrifies me. It moves fast and can sting like crazy. My fear goes back to my days in East Timor when they used to come up through the drain in the bathroom. I used to spray insecticide liberally on them then. Now I try to sweep them out, but my hand still trembles while I do that and I have to sit down after to calm down. 

As a child, millipedes used to bring out a similar reaction in my sisters and me. What added to the fear was an elderly peon telling us that the ghosts of those who died come back in these critters. Now, I know millipedes are harmless. They still give me the heebie-jeebies, but I can bravely sweep them on to a newspaper and throw them out. 

And my dear frog is back! Who knows? One of these days, when I finally get bored, I will just kiss him. He had better beware!