Silent heart attack

These are the deadliest. Doctors would tell you this is by far the most damaging myocardial infarction (AMI or MI). Twice as many people die from a silent heart attack as compared to those that experienced a myocardial infarction with chest pain.
But some don’t die…they just live afresh.

It often happens unannounced, around the unlikeliest person, in the safest environment, when you least expect it or even want it. It creeps up with everyday meetings, builds up with inane jokes and laughter, gathers force in comfortable glances, and explodes in ordinary settings.

You very often miss it, even dismiss it.
It’s mistaken for other afflictions like camaraderie, comfort levels, even friendships. But soon others warn you, they can see the symptoms, a happy air, flushed cheeks, a spring in the step. They can feel the temperatures rising; they can hear the heartbeats racing, and see the erratic scratchings of the ECG.

Then you suspect it. And try hard to justify it… ‘it can’t be, I’m not so weak’ ‘I practice self control every day’!!!

Finding out that your heart is seriously damaged because you did not act right after a silent attack can be devastating.

something stole the thunder off the biannual problem

What itch!
Ask for excitement and they send you a war.
Well war like were the last month and half…battling hospitals, fears, forms, presentations, work, weather, fever, travels, delays, doubts, worries, reports, heartbreaks, and dousing, others fears, franctic relatives, inconsolable friends, impatient clients, landlord, self doubts whew!
The lull after the storm although welcome, takes the wind out of the sail.

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.

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.

missing parts

The people who fascinate you are those who you want to be.
They represent a part of you that is unexpressed…creative producer, writer, mountain traveler, free child, wildlife researcher, photographer, rockstar, army officer, sportsman, radio jockey, actor, doctor, chef etc. They dust the windows in your mind and show you the possibilities embodied through them .
But what happens once you have what they have?
Where do they go?

An ode to simplicity…

Some people love jargons,
it makes them sound so smart,
lending an air of importance to their ideas otherwise bland…

For none can fight with ‘strategize impactful paradigms’
or argue against ‘leveraging vertical vortals’
in a a ‘Kafaesque’ atmosphere
in a neo magical realism portal

It might ‘monetize global methodologies’
or ‘enhance best-of-breed eyeballs’
and ‘reintermediate interactive content’
to ‘repurpose synergistic community walls’

But can it help you make a cup of tea?
or describe a fresh dew drop
or how to get to Timbuktu
or even to the corner shop?

Can it inspire some passion,
or calm a troubled mind

So can we please have some good old English
the common sense kind?

my quote

the biggest mistake a woman makes is to think that she is the only one... the biggest mistake a man makes is not knowing he is