I wrote this when I was having a dramatic moment. I have since calmed down ;)

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There is this quote which a friend shared with me ages ago. We were in college then. But I still remember it: 'It is easy to die for a friend but it is hard to find a friend worth dying for'. Time and again when I have felt someone was worth pushing myself out of my comfort zone for, putting myself out there for, going out on a limb for, I have done it. Only to realise I shouldn't have bothered. There are many things that come easy to people that take a whole lot more out of me. If they truly are a friend, I would want them to notice the humungous effort, the deliberate intention, the depth of emotion, underlying affection, the anxiety and vulnerability, everything that goes into my being there for them. Mostly they don't. That's when I wonder why bother. I rarely want to take such troubles now. One could argue you can't say until you do. That's true perhaps. But the disappointment is too much. It hurts too much. Cynicism has its uses. It protects you in a way. When you have accepted nothing is worth it and there's no point really, you can move on. Focus on the things that are rewarding. That won't let you down. People on the other hand? They will. Time and time again. They have no clue what it takes for you to show up. So when you do, you will wonder why you even bothered. The tom, dick, and harry would have done for them as well. Very well it would seem. That's what they'll make you feel. So why bother?

'No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man' ~ Heraclitus

Most of my life we lived on this one lane in Mumbai. It's a lane in a pretty affluent neighbourhood of Mumbai, well connected to everything, close to the famous Juhu beach dotted with a lot of Bollywood residences. We moved houses about twice much later but both times on the same lane. Back and forth literally. The experience of being not well off in such a well-off locality must have had a unique impact on me come to think of it—but let me reflect on that another day. Why I mention this lane now is because I have been feeling this wave of nostalgia for it... a deep desire to be back there as we were back then in some of the happy times...

And then I remembered this quote. I remembered that when I passed this lane just this December when I was in Mumbai, I could barely recognize it. I could barely recognize most places in Mumbai, but this one is special. I grew up on this lane. But it was just so different. So dusty, so dirty, so unkempt, so rundown, all sorts of carts and rubbish spilling into the street... so out of sorts really. It used to be a posh part of the city like I said earlier but now it had become an old part. Many new high rises and swanky places have come up whereas this lane got forgotten it would seem. Or... is it me who has changed? Who is seeing it with different, with a world traveller's eyes?

The lane I was longing for was not there anymore... even the 'I' I was picturing living on that lane wasn't there anymore. They were both in the past. Alive only in my and most likely my family members' memories. But even our memories I imagine recall a very different lane even though they are the same... These thoughts only made me miss my lane more because there was no way to go back... even if I did.

I was getting a take-away pizza on my way home on Friday evening. The server had an extra package on top of the pizza box. When I looked at him quizzically, he said it's a 'croissant on the house'. And that made me happy... hehe! I don't know where I get this from. It could be a middle-class Indian thing? Or could be the scarcity mindset I grew up in? Maybe both compounded? But anything 'for free' is guaranteed to make me happy. If it comes right out of the blue, then even more so. If it's something I like or could use, even more so. But even if it's not particularly my thing, a free thing is a free thing. It will still give me a boost ;)

I have wondered about this because... there was a time I couldn't afford the simple pleasures of life. It made sense then that I would feel happy to get stuff that I (or my family) might not have extra money to spend on. But now that's not the case. So, I am not really sure why? It kind of makes me realise how much our early experiences count, how much of a weight they have even much later in our lives... When I was walking about M&S recently, I suddenly reflected that now if I was choosing to not buy something, it was for all kinds of reasons but never because it was too expensive. I mean, even if I thought to myself something was too expensive, it wasn't that I couldn't afford to buy it. I just felt it wasn't worth buying. And when I thought about this, I stopped to savour this feeling. A feeling that nothing in this shop was inaccessible to me. I could buy whatever my heart desired. I wanted to feel the feeling really. It felt quite luxurious. Quite lush. This is what people born into money or even comfort might have been feeling from their childhood years? They never had to earn this feeling. I wonder how different their orientation to life must be? I doubt they feel a rush of delight when they get something for free?

But I don't let these thoughts run away with me. My early years have taught me to be careful with money, to be prudent, to save, to not waste stuff, etc... Sometimes I find it hard to figure out what the balance is because I have never really lived in a balanced state, if you know what I mean? I do not want to spend too much but nor do I want to spend too little. That's why I decided to treat myself to a pizza on Friday evening. And when I got the croissant, I knew I made the right choice ;)

My go-to genre on Netflix is murder mysteries. Not the gory or graphic sort. Ones that engage your brain cells really. The whodunits without all the blood but plenty of complex twists. I have long come to the conclusion that the Brit stuff is the best in this as well as many other categories, like the period pieces, documentaries, etc. The cerebral quotient is high, acting very natural, dialogue smooth, just enough restrained emotion, not too warm/not too cold, the plot is logical, and so much else. The Italian/Spanish ones are a bit over the top/all over the place on all these counts... they don't keep the focus where it needs to be. The Scandinavian/Nordic the opposite, if that makes sense. Too clinical, too devoid of emotion, too lacking in warmth, in the human... which is what motivates my interest even though subtly. I remember once starting one of these Nordic shows and barely a few minutes in, this woman was ready to chop a chap laid on the table as if it was a sack of potatoes. With zero expression on the face. I was out, in a hurry :( The French ones are probably closer to the Brit, if I had to choose. German seems somewhere in the middle of French and Scandinavian/Nordic. A bit too uptight and cold for my liking. American... hmm... not high on cerebral, acting artificial, too unrestrained, thin plot, hollow dialogue, very random illogical twists. Rarely holds my interest very long. [exceptions obviously exist in all these languages].

Closer home, I feel the quality of crime drama in Bollywood is improving but it's a rare gem here and there. The staple is still pretty boringly predictable. Too contrived. If I know there's a good one, I do want to watch it... but there's an added complication. I am unable to be as detached as when I watch any other language shows. I have to say that I am actually very easily frightened. It's a bit of a tension between me loving a good mystery and me being put off by even the idea of violent action. With the Indian stuff, my heightened emotional involvement makes the experience very uncomfortable if the show tries to be too real. So chances are I will avoid it, unless I am watching with company.

Makes one think about how different cultural systems - different human expressions – different languages - different audience orientations capture the complexity of crime and its resolution in creative form... and all this of course from my subjective perspective which itself is oriented to appreciate a particular form and style over others…

I wish I could be like a sage. One who gives up all material possessions, all attachments, all chains, all desires and ambitions... and just goes and sits on top of a mountain. Calm, tranquil, peaceful with no care in the world or for the world. I don't know if that's how sages were like... but that's the impression I have and I wish I could be one. Just embrace peace, tranquillity, serenity... as if nothing really matters in the grand scheme of things. If you think about it, nothing does. As they say, the king and the pawn go back into the same box tomorrow. Yet we hoard. Seems rather pointless when you think about it. The humungous number of things a body has to keep track of just to survive from day to day. It's like a hotel which you never check into, but you have to do everything to earn your room, your meal, your right to stay. The dishes, the laundry, the job, the taxes, the bank, the phone connection, the housing, the healthcare, the visa... the myriad things on a never-ending list. And you have to be on top of it all. All the time. The machine must be oiled all the time to keep it running. And that's where I really envy the sage of olden times. It's no wonder they could meditate. They did not have to think of a constant stream of things that the more you cross out, the more they queue up. Doesn't it seem like we have made existence very complicated? The real things, the beautiful things, the joyful, fulfilling things are what you have to snatch out of the clutches of the machine really... You do not ask to be a part of the scheme, but you cannot not be a part of it. Unless you are a sage. And I doubt even sages today could be what they used to be. If they can completely check out of this hotel. Maybe the trick is to find a way to be this sage right in the thick of it. To not let the machine run you so to speak. To find the mountain inside you as the cliche goes. But how does one do this...?

An annoying exchange happened while I was at Manchester airport on the way back from Copenhagen. I do not have to tell you that I am a highly anxious and highly strung person when I am not in my comfort zone. And if there is one place that's the very opposite of my comfort zone, it is the airport. Everything about the airport, from all the random rules and regulations, to the arbitrary checks and scrutinies particularly for nationalities like mine, to the new technologies introduced that make things only more complicated than they have to be, long queues and waits,... everything really makes me a nervous wreck. But for all that, I was quite happy to finally be in this queue to finish up the border control procedures at Manchester airport before heading homewards. There was this young Indian couple right ahead of me. The woman went to the booth first. The guy was standing there for his turn. An official at a booth farther away waved to the guy to come forward. He didn't seem to notice so I said to him that he was being called. As his back was facing me, it was unlikely he heard me. So I had to tap his backpack and tell him. It's quite possible my voice was hurried or urgent which to me seems perfectly natural in a situation like this. He looked around with a sour expression and as he walked away to that booth, said to me in a very condescending tone and gesture: 'chill', 'relax'. I was completely thrown away by this utterly unexpected and unkind remark, and looked behind me at the Chinese lady who must have witnessed all this. She too shared my bemusement. I couldn't help overthink my own actions all the way back—what had I done wrong? It seems to me the chap should have actually thanked me for drawing his attention. I didn't really need to. My expression and tone might have been hurried because I was seeing the official waving at us, but it certainly wasn't rude. 

I know I should just ignore the whole thing because it does not deserve my headspace. But being the sensitive person I am, whenever I am made to feel guilty, I cannot help reflect on whether I merit the charge in some way. I know I am neither a 'relaxed' nor a 'chill' sort of person by constitution. A lot of things that come very easily to most people require a tremendous amount of energy, effort, and struggle from me (and there are some things that come very easily to me that many others might consider difficult). I try to do what I can to do my difficult things. Mostly I try to do them without help because very few will understand my difficulties. Like going into a restaurant with a very different food ordering and catering system. Sounds like 'no big deal', right? Well, it is for me! Obviously, that makes me very unrelaxed and unchill in my head in certain situations that are par for the course for most. I try as much as I can to not transfer my anxieties to others. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I am too overwhelmed. Which is why when someone says something like this, it can hurt on many levels... Like I have failed in spite of all the hidden work...

I'm sure the balanced part of my brain will kick in soon and I will be back to embracing the totally unrelaxed, unchill person that I am. I'd rather be too much rather than too little or chill any day ;)