A week gone

and not much to show for it :( Its been a week of wobbliness, sleepiness, steroids and electric shocks. as a result i have been forced to stay in and do nothing concrete or worthwhile to make any difference to any one's life. What a waste of time! The good thing is that I have had so many visitors ~ everyone has made it their business to come and take care of me, even if just for a few hours, with an almost proprietary air! Friends have even brought me food!!!!! OK that's another thing, these bloody steroids are making me so greedy....I am seriously over eating and that's got to stop. STOP! I refuse to turn into a blimp and then blame it on steroids, OK?
I cannot wait to start going out again..even on little visits nearby...but truth to tell, I don't think I'm ready to walk around alone as yet....so maybe I will have to be sensible and wait till I'm stronger.
Had a long chat online with my besties - who needs therapy when you have good solid friends who really look out for you and never ever judge you? I remember Oprah saying she has never needed a shrink because she speaks to Gayle every single day! Yeah that works, for sure.
And Music....aaah I'm listening to music all day long, whatever music catches my fancy, without having to explain my choices to anyone! Even during my shock therapy...helps keep my mind off the pain. I mean, I can always transport to Notting Hill and lay on the grass in the park while my muscles are being sawed in half with a metal chain saw, right? Or run around a baseball stadium in New York while SRK sings Mitwa to me...;)
that's keeping me from slapping the poor physiotherapist hard across his jaw with my fist and that, my friend, is a huge favor I am doing him! Another week of this and I should be as good as new, I live in hope.
I wonder how my mother endured all the pain she must have felt for those three long months in hospital - all cut up and stuck indiscriminately with needles all over? Tubes, pipes, catheters, needles, gauze bandages, and that awful awful awful all pervading antiseptic smell ~
You know whats the worst thing about hospitals? The fact that you are totally stripped of your dignity ~ you become just a body, I don't want to say Cadaver, but actually that's what they treat bodies like, alive/dead whatever....I hope I never ever have to be ill enough to go to hospital, ever.
Ok no morbid talk, ok? so tell me your news....what have you done in the last week? Touched any one's heart? made any positive difference to any one's life? My friend Anuja does this on a daily basis ~ she heals people and helps them resolve their issues; in the bargain, she takes on their burdens and feels overwhelmed. How do you think she should resolve her issues? She's beautiful, strong and terrifically capable, but hey God, time to cut her a little slack, ok? Time for her to play a little. Now I'm going to think of games for her to play, catch you later - stay happy ok?

Bells Palsy

Yes, so there we have it. Confirmed as Bells Palsy. My face is frozen on the right side. I run spider fingers over the right side and feel nothing. In contrast, the left side looks too animated, lined and old. For the first time in my life, I can lift one eyebrow sardonically, quizzically, coquettishly, and in so many other ways ~ the other eyebrow refuses to lift, and remains stoically in its place, making my face half mobster and half mime artiste!
How did this happen? you know how things happen in a blink of an eye, when you least expect it? Yes, well, thats how. I came back on a train after an exhilarating and fabulous trip (more on that later) and slept on the top bunk, got the blast from the AC vent into my ear despite covering up and keeping warm. Had a mild earache the next morning which i paid no heed to; however, when that earache grew stronger and then got compounded by a  throbbing pain in the back of the head, I got worried. Not worried enough though. It was not till the third day, when I felt my face freezing up, and going tight, that I called the doctor to find out what could be wrong.
You know what scared me the most? the realisation/ acceptance of the fact that anything can happen at any time; here I was sailing along, having the best three months in my life in a very long time, doing everything I enjoyed, feeling beautiful and fulfilled, looking forward to new ventures, and ZING came the arrow that can possibly ruin everything! I'm having trouble saying  Pep talk, Popcorn, popular ~ did you know how important your lip, your entire lip was, in ensuring your speech remained crystal clear? aah but I have no problem saying Pomfret! Yay, there's hope yet!
Today I had my first session with the Physiotherapist; good heavens, I didn't know I would need electric shock therapy!!!! Not only did he take me by surprise but I had to endure the feeling that there was giant metallic dragonfly (the kind you see in Sci-Fi Horror Films, I swear!) scrunching my face out of shape and whirring its wings around my eyes....Help! and this is going to carry on for at least six weeks! How will I live through it?
How do people endure so much pain? Accident victims, burn victims, people ravaged by war, violence? I feel a little ashamed to have such a low threshold of pain ~ I tried hard not to feel it - kept saying " embrace the pain embrace the pain" to myself; Sensei's words kept coming back to me "Suffer what there is to suffer, enjoy what there is to enjoy; regard both suffering and joy as facts of life" ~ it helped somewhat, but there was no getting away from the physical, excrutiating, never ending pain. 

You know what? I don't care if anyone reads this or not. I like writing this stuff....it's like writing my diary the way I used to when in college; only then the pages were filled with "ooooh he looked so cute today" or "why didn't he smile at me today" or "bunked class and went to watch ...film and then spent the night at Shona's"  etc etc etc...Now it holds more meaningful stuff, like "I swear I can't feel my hands today...calcutta has never been so cold, ever"
I'm supposed to pack for my trip - leaving day after tomorrow and its most unlike me to not have categorised everything I am planning to take with me already; somehow I just don't feel like packing....its going to be even colder in Delhi so I'll just bung in socks and woolies and coats last minute....mind you, scarves and mufflers have been checked out and modelled, and new darker lipstick has been tried on (you know how good it looks against  a face made pale by the cold??) so I guess I'm not that unprepared!
Most excited about being present at the Unveiling of the World Peace Monument at Soka Bodhi Tree Garden ~ I'm going to witness histroy being made ~ how lucky is that? I wish more of my district members were going ~ it would have been so much fun to share all this with them.....
.....and then to perform at the NSD Theatre Festival! How did I get so lucky??? Went back on stage after 23 years, ostensibly for ONE SINGLE performance and that show gets invited to NSD? and who knows, maybe its going to travel even more.....I cannot wait!
I remember saying to Vinay a hundred years ago, "everything happens on cue" - he had laughed, though not unkindly. It really does, Life really does seem like a scripted play, with entries, exits, backdrops, turning points, lights, action and all that. Did I ever think i would be back on stage? Now with the kids grown and gone, it seems like the most perfect thing for me to do.
At the risk of sounding nostalgic/repetitive, let me ask you, if you could have something back from say, thirty years ago, what would you pick? What do you miss most, from those days?

Got Fresh Flowers this Morning

here I am, back again, after a few days, wanting to write. I'm at home after ages, and not running around like a headless chicken doing five hundred things at the same time; I am looking forward to a delicious beetroot, red & yellow pepper salad with daal and methi rotis for lunch, wearing my black & orange halloween socks, all set to set the laptop ablaze with my writings! Hah!
It's 10 degrees in Calcutta, practically unheard of temperatures and just perfect to sit in the sun eating oranges. However, that is not to be, since I have to trudge all the way up to the terrace to avail of the sun. Nah, not happening.
No, I'd rather look at the purple asters and maroon chrysanthemums standing bravely in my childhood mug on the table and marvel at the man I married :) I woke this morning hearing two, no,  three birds singing outside...when I commented on this my husband said cheerfully (always so blinking chirpy in the morning!!!) "that means the cold weather is on its way out" ~ the sound of doves took me back, as always, to my first home in Assam, Tiphook. They were a permanent fixture in my garden there and I heard them when Ash left for work early in the morning, and again when I woke later for breakfast and again in the late afternoon while I had my tea. I will associate that sound, and the smell of 'sweet peas' with that beautiful period of my life forever! Why Sweet Peas? because very often, I woke to a little bunch of them on my bedside table those days :) I have tried, and tried to grow them here, but with no luck.....
what do you miss? from those beautiful days?

Dare I?

Ok, I have to get over this idiotic fear of blogging. To start with, millions of people are already doing it so chances are that not too many will be interested in reading my work. Having said that, I'm aware that there is actually no point writing if no one is going to read your stuff. Hmm, so?
I'm going to put to test the theory that words pour out of you once you start writing....eminent authors have been known to say that their characters took on a life of their own; the plot deviated randomly and they were unable to control it etc etc etc.....
So what was I saying? Yes, I want to write; I have so many stories inside, waiting to be written, so many thumbnail character sketches, complete with tragic flaws, warts, incandescence et al. I remember weaving stories for meetlet ages ago....about that bus ride to Shimla, eating Nankhatais and sharing them grudgingly with a stranger....Meetlet loved those stories I told, whether they made sense or not; she listened intently to them and reminded me about them when I had long forgotten them.
Should I....dare I...resurrect those stories and flesh them out now? So many years later?
Well I've made a start.....with this little post. My friend Tanuja, a prolific and lucidly imaginative writer herself, has inspired me to take the plunge......