Eating, Praying & More...

10:05 pm

There are times when one wants to…simply forget things. Forget, be forgotten & left alone. Or given the things they desire. They just want to go off to the dreamless sleep and never wake up. They want to be happy. They want to be able to wake up in the morning and say “This is life!”. But nothing like that happens. What does happen is that every single human being (and other creatures closely resembling them) you know, apart from the few you want to speak to, will call you up all through the day and say (read: shout) “HAAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”. You will mumble the most disinterest wishes back. They’ll ask “So, what you doin, yaar?”.

Okay, I’m gonna say it the last time (fingers crossed!). I DID NOTHING ON NEW YEAR’S EVE. Absolutely. Not a ding dong thing. Face it.

And nothing’s “up” with me. Stop asking. Its rude.

It s happens that sometimes there’s pain. All you can do, all there is in your power to do, is wait. Hear the clock tick and wait.
People have their own ways of seeking a refuge. Mine is to read books. NOT text books. Books. There’s a difference.

On day, after a Frankenstein lecture, my teacher, Suz, cornered me and asked me if I had read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I hadn’t even heard the book’s name & while wondering why she wanted to know why I, in particular, had read it, told her I hadn’t. She said the most unexpected thing ever. Suz said that she found Gilbert’s style of writing resembling mine. So I made a mental note to read it. Not everyday you hear of authors who have writing styles similar to yours! Hugzy gave it to me on my birthday.

A million thanks to Suz & Hugzy for giving me that book. it’s a real life account from Gilbert’s life on her travels to Italy, India & Indonesia. She’s a depressed soul who sets out on a journey that only mends her.

Here are my observations on how I think it helped…

Italy:Gilbert sets out for Italy after a horrible divorce. In Rome (and other many cities in Italy but primarily Rome), she decides to indulge in pure pleasure. Yes, the f-word. FOOD. Eating good food, without counting the calories, and only caring about the taste buds, help her get back with pleasure.

I thought about it. I’ve been eating a lot lately. And sleeping. As a result of which, I’m gaining weight (Although, people still tell me I’ve lost weight!). It does not give me pleasure. But it’s an important thing that’s stopping from things falling apart (inter-textuality: Yeats & Achebe! Read their works, you.).

India:Here, she prays. Finds a Guru, an ashram and prays to the Almighty. Which gives her hope. Now, the thing is, being an Indian, there are parts where I thought she was looking at India through an occidental perspective, orientalising India into the almost-mystical land of gurus, poverty & turning the entire country (almost) into a land which wakes up for the day before 3 am. I have never ever woken up at 3 am unless it was because I had fever or because a had a journey to make or something. I mean, 3 am is before dawn. Its before the birds wake up! And I’m sure there’re a great many number of Indians who don’t wake up early.

But, over-looking the oreintalisation of India, the focus that brings her here is very much sensible (and considering, she spent her days here in rural India…).

I’ve always believed in God. But December 2008 was when I desperately sought help. Now, I’ve been praying to (praying, not practicing rituals) God.I gives me hope. Something to cling to. Something to look forward to. God is my better half, my sanity. Not my superego, my Ego, which I thought had gone for a long vacation. I call God “Him” out of habit. I don’t think God could be all male. But He’s there. And I’m clinging to Him, waiting for support. It gives me hope.

Hope is a beautiful thing. Without it, you die. Without it, despair circles you.


Balance Pleasure & Worship.


I’ve been eating, I’ve been praying. Its going to take awhile before I come to the last stage.
I thought about the three countries I wanted to go alone, if I had the chance, to find me. Here they are…

All my life, I’ve been a major fan of the Greek mythology. And Greece has beaches. Islands. Beauty. I’ll find myself there.

Always, I’ve felt an unexplainable link with Russia. There’s always been that fascination. I asked myself “Why Russia?”. I don’t know.

Maybe because I think Russian literature to be among the best in the world. Because my nickname, Anya, is a Russian name (it means "graceful"). Because I want to see the architecture.

Okay, I know it’s a city & not a country!

But London evokes this feeling of writing in me.

Whenever I hear the word “London”, I remember literature, I want to write, I want to read. Not even “England” but “London”.

My hopes to find myself. My hopes that when I do, i'm not disappointed.

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