These last two years have been one of the most blank years of my life. Its as if everything somehow conspired to suck the joy out of my living. I stopped painting, writing, socialising..even studying...almost everything I enjoyed and had enjoyed for so many years. Its as if nothing excited me anymore. I remember the days when I used to go for photowalks, cultural shows, outdoor painting sessions , ceramics pottery, films ..and so many things. I used to have a small etching studio and remember taking long and exciting trips to chandni chowk for copper plates and nitric acid. I used to buy and use wood planks in many projects I used to build. I used to be excited and curious about almost everything. Then as if suddenly everything stopped..without reason just died. It was not corona or lockdown because I used to bake and make lebanese , mediteranean food and even bake during lockdowns ..It was something else and I do not know what it was or is...
I stopped 'doing'.
Got into a monotonous habit of eating, sleeping , office and repeat. I packed my stuff and let it rot. And it rotted and rotted while nothing mattered to me . Everything kind of became a chore. I was not tired, I was just not interested.
In novmeber Bapa(my father) gave me a call saying that he is feeling out of breath. For a man who never ever complained about his health, this was shocking. And I rushed to my hometown only to be confronted with the fact that he had leukemia and the doctor although not directly but tacitly indicated that at this age things could be bad. We settled on BTS (blood transfusion) as the way out. Regular transfusions and my worries grew till march 22 when he had a swelling and high fever. At the fag end of my leave, it was panic as we shifted him in an ambulance , my first time in an ambulance. More and more things spiralled from one panic to other as we had to start chemo at the hospital. I was the attendant for almost 10 days at the hospital as I saw my father losing his health and sanity to chemo. Thankfully he was discharged and the chemo continues till date..
I asked for and got a transfer to a town nearby and today is perhaps my last week in Delhi. I leave behind a host of memories, a few special persons and a time which provided me with some wonderful memories. Work wise it had turned hell around 2 years back with a petty and vindictive boss and I had been superannuated...but even then I was happy. Happy spending my time with people I loved and respected. Happy just being near.
I leave this city next week maybe forever. I dont like this city despite its beauty ..I liked the people I had here . And somewhere there is a foreboding that there is a finality to my leaving. There is some finality to somethings..I dont know what it is but somewhere I feel there is a kind of force pushing me away from this city, this 'life' and this set of memories. Things have kind of happened in auto and I am being pushed by some unknown or maybe I am just imagining things.
I havent been 'normal' and things dont seem normal. I am really confused at this emotional roller coaster I have been riding, fathers condition, leaving the city, leaving a lifestyle , fear of the new , fear of loss...yes perhaps the fear of loss is the overwhelming feeling.
Lets say this is not the best of my times....I just hope I see some way out of this..
