The news has depressed the daylights out of me this past week. Wherever I look, there’s a new atrocity. This week we’ve seen it all from violence against women, crimes against children, a plane crash, war, idiotic Indian politicians who never seem to take a break from doing asinine things, a natural calamity and its all over facebook and twitter. I try to get online, finish my work and get offline, but inevitably I let myself get into a discussion, evesdrop over a raging debate, or just keep reading — before I know it the day is done and I’m to my gills in bad news.
I shut the laptop, grumbling about another day gone by without working as much as I planned to. I take myself to the gym, the only place that has become a non-negotiable in my daily routine. I work my buns off, sweat out the sadness. It’s usually past 8.30 pm, and I tread slowly, dragging my feet back to my car and that familiar feeling returns — the fear that I cradle inside of me, the fear that is always bubbling beneath the surface, but I push away time and again. I’m out, alone, in the dark — what if something happens? The irony is I have just walked out of a kick boxing class — I come out feeling stronger physically, but wonder if something were to happen, would I be able to handle it mentally?
It doesn’t help that I have been homealone for the most of the week gone by. The husbands work trips are getting longer every time. Indoors too, I’m alone. But I brush the fears aside, just as long as I rush home and find myself indoors again. Safe. From everything outside of it. The rain, the dark, the people.
It seems like no place is safe anymore. Not this country, not the places we frequent, not even the schools we send our children to. Where is one to go if the only place I really feel safe is my own home?
It’s a good kind of Sunday when the husband is home from a business trip. Its like temporarily putting a blanket over the fears that linger around. I have some music playing loud, as we rustle up idlies, sambar, chutney and mini vadas for brunch. Outside, it’s coming down in buckets, and it feels just so wet you want to stay indoors. Its safer indoors.
There’s nothing like a coastal monsoon to experience what wetness sounds like. Squelchy, pouring rain has a sound. And that sound, it feels wet. The grey skies hold back as long as they can — dark, looming large and heavy. And then when you’re least expecting it, tears apart, making way for a downpour. You’re indoors, and yet you feel just how wet it is outside.
Suddenly I feel glad to be indoors. In a neighbourhood that rarely has a crime reported. In a city that has so far been very, very kind to me. Where I can walk around after dark, in my gym clothes and not be leered at. Where wearing shorts doesn’t mean putting myself on display. Where I have never been groped. As yet. Where I can mostly be myself without having to cover up, think twice or need a chaperone. I’m glad I’m in a country that’s not at war. Yes, there are a lot of stupid people in influential positions making a lot of questionable decisions, but really, I feel safer here right now. And my heart goes out to those that have been in the news for all the wrong reasons this week.
Yes, it’s a good kind of Sunday. And I feel grateful. I feel glad. Even if just for a bit.
Incidentally, I just realised the playlist is a woman-strong one. So I’m sharing some favourites.
An old favourite, I suddenly caught it on the radio the other day. Amy’s voice is like mulled wine. Warm, spicy, dark and comforting. And this is one of my most loved Amy tracks. Perfect for a rainy day.
What is it about this woman! She’s so unusually appealing. I cannot quite put a finger on it. The music is pleasantly different, her hair, clothes, make up — just so unusual. The words, the unravel slowly and you realise what shes really talking about. I jumped on this train a little late, but I’m in love with Lorde.
Nina Simone is something I associate with the movies. Not the music I grew up listening to. The occasional track I remember is usually because it played in a movie, is all I know. But this track came to me in an 800 mb collection that was we-transferred to me across cities (yeah some of us do that for music). It’s grown on me. And how.
So listen, just stay happy, yeah? Stay safe and have a good Sunday, folks.