Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Biannual problem solution part 2

The itch had become chronic since the last time I wrote and required some desperate measures.

The initial spasms and attacks subsided when I decided to go on a trek by myself to har ki dun in Uttranchal. Having calmed down to it I saw anything and anyone as an enemy…work, fitness, clothes…. and I wasted no time and immediately checked out routes, maps, agents, guides...

Nothing in October…. 'oh yes things can be arranged’ …..that is if you are willing to pay Rs.37000 for a lone trek by myself…along with 5 porters, 6 mules and a guide.

Net result: nothing.

There was a bigger conspiracy here.

Right around this time my brother was planning to take off as well. Which meant my mom will be left alone. Which now meant more options given the trek to har ki dun wasn’t working out. Having been mesmerised by Spiti valley all my life, I decided nows the time. Its not a trek but a road trip, can be done in a week and will have company. And i will experience free range....endless mountains, vast cold lands, monastries and lamas, sheep and pastures...hmmmmm

So that’s the plan…have taken off the week before diwali and am planning as we speak.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

A biannual problem

I am beginning to itch…it’s not a stranger to me. I know the beginnings. It starts with contentment, the very contentment causes discontentment.

It slowly creeps up my leg and messes with my head. I wait and watch…and wait and watch. But nothing out of the ordinary happens. No new challenge, obsession or curiosity comes around. No new troubles.

A sense of irritation starts to develop…things dull out, lose colour. Friends seem alien and unavailable. It’s me and the dry road…and I am not even travelling on it.

Nothing inspires me. I am unable to jump into the lives of the characters in the movies I watch. I invite delays, road jams, wrong meters, losing money and getting late... I’m no longer on top of things.

I am putting on weight…clothes don’t fit and in the last three weeks I am dressing to hide. Skirts, loose tops and jeans. I have morbid thoughts of turning into a sumo wrestler in my 40ies…unable to get into my brother’s car.

I do good work…in the last 2 weeks not because I want to but at times because I have to. I have become easy… at times cheat on myself. I think I am getting soft…and that scares me.
I am delaying my pleasure to avoid all fears. And the delay has become status quo in many things…I am getting comfortable in the delay.

I know I have to get out…but I am waiting for the water to go over.

I know what it is. I know what I have to do. But like sweet pain I keep poking it and feeling it but not healing it.

I have to go to the hills. Soon.