BENGALURU : Dear reader, I’ve been writing this column for nearly three years now. Through my column, I’ve tried to address issues that might not seem earth-shattering on the surface, but are an integral part of our lives – issues like traffic, and idli vendors who don’t give enough chutney. But over the last six months, my articles have revolved around the pandemic and adapting to a life indoors.
When younger, I was told to write keeping an imaginary reader in mind. My imaginary reader is a youngster who takes long lunch-breaks between shifts and reads the newspaper. And then goes on to read the city supplement and find my column. If I have done a good job, I’d probably conjure a few smiles. The reason why my column kept addressing life in a pandemic was because I felt it would be superficial to complain about insufficient chutney at such times.
Over the last six months, we have been asked to take precautions, wear masks, and avoid groups. And yet, while we physically deal with the pandemic, nobody seems to be speaking about mental health.It’s like we are hiding a family secret, or a difficult break-up. Right off the bat, I’ll admit the pandemic has wreaked havoc with my mental state. As a stand-up comedian and film reviewer, I lost my two primary sources of income. For a few months, I drowned myself in alcohol. I’d begin the nights as Tintin, adventurous and playful. I’d end the nights as Captain Haddock – angry and drunk beyond my wits.
When I finally decided to address it, I found that all my friends were going through the same issue.One cannot look at news channels for any solutions. From the calm, composed days of Doordarshan news, we have reached a fish-market of opinions and accusations. Social media apps are no help either - their entire algorithms being based on eliciting emotions out of you. I logged out of the Big F, and deleted Dinstagram.
They say that the answer always lies within – but whoever said this lived before Google. The G-god suggested meditation. As a child, I was forced to meditate for two hours a day. While the intentions were noble, it seemed a punishment that was worse than standing against the wall in ‘chair’ position.We were asked to free our minds off thoughts, or to focus on a flame in a dark room. I either fell asleep, or squirmed uncomfortably in my position for the entire duration. Thankfully, there are apps that one could download today. I’d connect my earphones, close my eyes, and try to reach within.
Only to be notified about a farmhouse party that was attended by A-list Bollywood superstars!
In ancient days, one went to a forest and found one’s guru. I went on YouTube. I found Sadhguru too simplistic, and Deepak Chopra too confusing. Osho made me want to reach out for a bottle of vodka. Lost in confusion, I gave up my pursuit for a digital guru. I found that I was only experiencing a blip of noiselessness. It was too short to grasp, and too alien to understand.
And then, I found my answer. In my colony, there are tiny puppies that run across the road every day.
They come in different colours, and their bobbing ears are oblivious to pandemics and global recessions. Every evening, I feed them and return to my room. What all the apps and gurus of the world could not provide me, the little squeaky puppies did. That is how I found my daily oasis, and I hope dear reader, you find yours too!