Quality of Solitude

In the past few days, I haven't been coping well with the acquaintances that inhabit my daily life. To be clear, they have a right to the space they share with me as much as I do. But, I just wish they followed the lead of other people who seem to have temporarily relinquished that right. In office, it is just two girls who come in every day along with me. They give me no trouble, but their mere presence grates on my nerves. I feel like my irritability threshold is so low that I am in a permanent state of being miffed. If its not their habits, its their mere presence. On the home front, I was hoping that two of my housemates would be away during the lockdown. Alas, it was not to be. And, my new housemate has a heavy houseprint like me--she cooks a lot (like I do), but also has some mildly annoying habits. So, I have been feeling frustrated both on the home and the office front. When I write down the reasons for my frustration, it feels ridiculous. What else is there to do but laugh at my ow idiosyncrasies? Beat myself over it or feel even more alienated from the world? Nah, I am not that person any more. I will just laugh at myself.

Slacker Weekend

 This weekend I did what one is supposed to do on weekends: I slacked off completely. The creature of habit that I am I have a routine for weekends too. This weekend, I made a conscious effort to break the routine because I felt like I needed it. I had hit a rut with both my thesis writing and my job application, and I suddenly stated feeling colder than usual a couple of days ago. Since a few years ago, whenever My body experiences (mild) unusual symptoms I attribute it to mental stress or anxiety. So, this weekend, I decided to break away from my routine. So, I barely did any yoga, didn't blog yesterday and didn't go for my Sunday morning hill run. People like me, who are too self-disciplined, need to force themselves to slack off from time to time. When I find some activity which is calming or relaxing, I immediately include it in my routine, and push myself to do it everyday. Self-discipline is great, but at times it can make life difficult. It keeps you on track, but staying on the track all the time can be stressful. One needs to veer off from time to time. I suppose one needs to figure out one's type--if you are the type who pushes too hard, you should watch out for signs of exhaustion, and if you are the opposite you should be careful about not slacking off too much. 

My Relationship With Food

The other day I read a post on Twitter about how food in Britain is devoid of joy, community and closeness, which set me thinking about my own relationship with food. Like most Indian men, I didn;'t learn to cook until I was forced to. Looking back at my year living in Holland, I am amazed how I managed to survive, given how badly I Cooked. I had no clue how to cook using spices, much less Indian spices. I remember my favourite dish was rice cooked with chicken and vegetables flavoured with only pepper. I cooked the dish a few months ago, and was again amazed that I used to so fond of it at one point. In Holland, I ate out quite a lot, which is now wonder as I was a bad cook. It was only after I moved to England that my cooking skills improved, and with that came a change in my relationship with food. I always sued to think that while I had a healthy appetite, I always had low standards. I would make a terrible food critic, because I am so easily pleased that I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between good and great food. But, as my cooking skills have improved, I have become more discerning when it comes to food. I honestly prefer cookingmy own food to eating out, not because I am a great cook but because food standards and portion sizes in England are quite bad. I also put more care in planning my meals, consulting people for new recipes and searching for new ingredients. Many good cooks make very basic meals when they are cooking for themselves, reserving fancy meals for when they have company. My meals are not super-elaborate but they are as elaborate as they would be if I was cooking for company.  

 I am not a foodie by any means, but I enjoy cooking. 

Hearts over Heads

Last night, I had a long talk with an Indian friend considering quitting the US and going back home. The last time we spoke, which was a couple of months ago, I was trying to convince him not to because India is being ruled by a right-wing ghoul is smarter and more cruel than Trump. I was hoping a resounding defeat for Trump would make him change his mind, but even a Biden presidency wouldn't be cause for celebration. The difference between a Trump an a Biden presidency was the difference between being knee-deep and neck-deep in shit, as someone on Twitter said. So, given that even if Biden manages to squeeze past Trump, he will be in a very weak position. A weak moderate is as scary as a right-winger because the former fears the right and wants to inspire fear in the left. 

When I spoke to my friend yesterday, I made no effort to convince him to stay in the US. Where one choses to live, barring practical compulsions, is an emotional rather than a rational decision. The next few days, weeks, months, years are going to be very difficult, and most of us are going to use our hearts more than our heads to make decisions. Which is as it should be. How do you make reasoned decisions when standing on shifting sands and below a clouded horizon? The only thing certain is the world is going to look very different five years from now. How do you plan for a world that you haven't the foggiest idea about? 

Covid Rage

 I have experienced bouts of Covid rage infrequently over the past few months, but none as strong as today's. It started with being ticked off by marshals and shop assistants for gonig the wrong way on the stairs and not sanitizing my hands. I have always felt people who are rude to shop assistants and minders are twats, but this morning I felt the anger rise in me like a volcano. What was worse is the lower the status of the person confronting me, the angrier I felt. I managed to quell my anger, even though I was a split second away from saying something snippy. When there is a power differential, it is so easy to take out your anger on someone less powerful. And so unfair.

But, my rage really bubbled over in the afternoon. It took me by surprise, because I had just returned from a very relaxing walk in the woods near uni. I came back to find my colleague's housemate comfortably ensconced in our shared office. My colleague had introduced him when they were sitting outside. I had wondered at the time what he was doing there, but hadn't given it much thought. I was sething with rage for some reason, so much so that I quickly realised I wasn't going to get any work done and stormed out of the office. I later texted my colleague checking that he was only going to be there today. She relied in the affirmative. I don't know if that was the truth or whether she decided to rescind her invitation to her housemate because I had expressed my displeasure. I don't care. I know I over-reacted and that I can be very territorial about my space. yes, my colleague was wrong to invite him without even checking with me. In normal circumstances, I wouldn't have minded but Covid is great cover for my misanthropy. 

I am glas I messaged my colleague and clarified the matter instead of waiting to see if the housemate would turn up tomorrow. Hair-trigger reactions are generally bad, but not all anger should be quelled. Anger sometimes spurs necessary and justified action which in normal circumstances one would have been too ashamed to carry out. It is best if angers spurs measured action. but seeing Covid rage for it is is itself progress. I can watch out for it in coming weeks and months, reducing the chances of me doing something stupid in anger. 

US Election Night

The fate of the world hangs in the balance tonight. If the ghoul comes back to power, it will steady the regimes of right-wing fascists, which are currently under attack from the pandemic. It has always amazed me how much fascists borrow from each other 's playbook. If Trump comes back, a no-deal Brexit is likely, apart from all the other horrors this winter will bring. The fate of the world rests in the hands of one of two senile white men. As the atmosphere leading up to the polls was very febrile, many people epect violence whatever the outcome. There are too many angry white men walking around with military-grade weapons. And, Trump might refuse to accept the results if he loses. America is an empire in decline but there is a huge difference between an empire bursting into flames and one smouldering from the edges and slowly coming apart. If Trump comes back, a generation will lose faith in electoral democracy as an agent for progressive change. Mobiliazing on the streets, and enduring whatever violence that entails, will eb the only option.

Letting It Be

 The "Let It Be" post-it notes above my desk at home and at work are going to be doing a lot of heavy lifting during the pandemic. Yesterday, I got the feeling that my bumptious randy housemate was preparing to spend the lockdown with her parents. Today, she had a bloke over, and they seem very lovey-dovey. It struck me that she might not be planning to go home to her parents if it means being separated from this bloke. Then it struck me that this bloke might spend more time at our house if both he and my housemate have been furloughed over lockdown. I spent an hour or so contemplating this possibility with increasing moroseness. My housemate is loud--she makes her presence felt when she is in the house and awake, and most of her guests seem to be loud too. I start feeling irritable if there are too many people in the house, especially if a guest takes up the noise quota of two people. Finally, it struck me that we were going to be under lockdown and having people over was barred. I immediately made up my mind that I would unleash hell if he kept visiting after the start of lockdown. After all, "Let it be" is not a panacea, at least not for most people as we are not saints. Sometimes, "Raise Hell!" is the solution. Knowing when to let it be and when to raise hell is, of course, the million-dollar quesion.