Habits. They are tough to form. Like this one. To write.It is easy to tell myself the night before, and pencil it in my journal that it is better for me to take this time out for myself every day, and jot down my thoughts.But it is darn hard to wake up at 6:00 am every morning, and tell myself, go write Shivi. It is good for you. Because at 6:00am in the morning, there is only one good thing. A few more minutes of sleep.
But habits must be formed. For they hold the key to the madness that surrounds our life. We can make ourselves creatures of habit.
Ever since Agam’s accident, sleep has been playing hide and seek with me. It is not that I fear my nightmares, or my dreams. I have come to realize that you need very little of it. Or let me rephrase that. You need just enough of it. So here I am in my library today with my noise cancelations on and a strange radio called A Hymn to Haruki Murakami playing in my ears. I did not put an alarm to wake up at 6:00am. It was “just” enough sleep.
One might wonder why I am using noise cancelation headphones while both Tara and Agam are asleep and there is no noise outside. The reason for that is that as a mother, I have learnt about my abilities to hear my child even she is not crying for me. So I am, as selfish as this sounds, blocking myself from all sounds, imaginary, and real.
Now about the Hymn to Haruki Murakami. I figured that are more fanatics like me who think and breathe Murakami. And so I just searched for him. And thanks to Apple I found a golden nugget. Search for it for yourself and play it when you need some “me” time.
About Apple Music subscriptions. I never knew I needed one until I got one. It really helps me with discovering music. Worth the price. Especially if you are on family plan. Now why did I start patronizing Apple. Just like that. Sharing my stream of thought.
That is the habit I want to build. To share my stream of thoughts. As meaningless as they are, they help me pick the right words and phrases to summarize them. And some day these words and phrases shall play together to build something more meaningful. I am just 33 after all. There is much left undone.
We got the Netflix DVD subscription recently. It has been quite rewarding so far. One of the more recent ones we watched was Brooklyn. I know, I know, the world already saw it last year, but hey I was busy raising a kid. So I am catching up now. I loved the movie. The character of Eilese is very close to home.
After we watch a good movie, we usually recommend it to our family back home. It is a habit amongst all of us. It is a healthy habit. Gives us some common grounds. Or else our lives are increasingly growing disparate. I often picture myself trying to hold the four ends of a sheet and drawing it closer and closer together. But the weight of the items in the sheet is getting heavier and heavier, and there are times I also give up. But try I must. That is all I can do.
Back to Brooklyn. I have often felt like the character feels when she visits Ireland, when I visit home. Some times the chatter that filled our lives back in the day, just does not seem relevant any more. The narrative stays the same, the actors change from time to time. There is a self assuring tone in all of that chatter. But I live too far away now. I have worries of my own. And side I must with my kin, but my woes are not worth sharing, and their’s are not worth bearing.
With such complex thoughts, I decided to not share this movie recommendation with my family at first. I was ashamed of saying that I loved the movie that portrays someone who I might have become. Not by choice, but by time and distance. But even though I might have been ashamed of admitting it. I am not ashamed of the person I am, and hence I did share my recommendation eventually.
Such small things occupy my mind. From time to time, they remind me of my immigrant life and the choices I have made. In the meanwhile, A Hymn to Haruki Murakami did full justice to this beautiful morning. The sun is out, and my little bird is cooing in her bed. I am yet to think about if it was the imaginary one or the real.
I pray that sleep escapes me tomorrow too and that I come back to this keyboard, this music, and myself for this short 30min tete-a-tete.