This is an image of various objects on a table. They include a map, a globe and ink. I've used this image because it symbolizes life and my post is about a day in my life.

I get stoned these days; not an intentional, ‘I need to get high,’ stoned, but I struggle with migraines, skin rashes and cold, and I’m on cough syrups and antihistamines. Maybe I take an extra swig of the syrup because I’m tired, and just want the day to get over. But I’m not sure. I went to the departmental store to pick up an energy drink and found myself staring at the woman behind the counter. It wasn’t because she’s hot or anything, I basically looked right through her with dilated pupils, while she kept asking me for some details. I liked standing there, while people rushed in and out, surrounding me, but then I couldn’t do the catatonic thing forever, and so I snapped out of it, paid her, and left. I then went to a small tea shop and bought some cigarettes, and drank my lemon tea, and suddenly that whole light, euphoric buzz started becoming something ugly, just like the sickening feeling you get when you smoke too much bad weed. And so, I didn’t finish my tea, paid the guy quickly and walked home. It’s like certain places give me this cool solitude and gentle atmosphere when I’m high, but other places just make me feel sick and nauseated. But I don’t really need to get high. I’m usually a total recluse who loves solitude, and when I get it, my mood and being shifts into something ethereal, and I feel like I’m floating, suspended in mid-air, or defeating gravity. I had a friend preach to me today while I was catching up on blog posts. He basically judged me and said that I’m doing nothing with my life. I guess he’s both right and wrong. He’s right in a superficial sense, but in a deeper sense, I don’t want to lead his life: Working as a software engineer, drinking like a fish, gambling and then preaching the prosperity gospel in some hysterical charismatic church. He takes a half-day vacation, and then gets up and goes to work. Fuck! If you’re taking a break at least make it four days is my motto. But hell, who am I to judge? Live and let live, I guess. The problem with him is that he won’t stop arguing until he has the last say, and so, I just blocked him. Let him think he won the argument and ‘humbled’ me, or whatever. I guess I’ll read a little Fitzgerald tonight and then hit the sack. I’m sort of nonchalant now, and I like that too. Anything’s better than paranoia or neurosis. But as I dig deeper, I’ve realized that my subconscious and conscious mind got merged at some point in my life. So regardless of if I’m writing or talking, I’m passively spilling words out. And when I’m walking, I’m mechanically crossing the street. All my actions are passive. Even my strength is a passive strength. It’s never an active grit. Maybe it’s a good thing, or maybe not, but I’m past caring.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2019)

5 Replies to “A day in my life”

  1. I always love the honesty of your work, Nitin. That is something you and my friend Mario Savioni have in common. If you read his novel “Pickles and Tarts” you will find the same honesty in his main character. It is a story where 54-year-old Frank has been selected by 19-year-old Nicole through a dating site. Frank looks at Nicole’s photos on the site and is attracted to her beauty. Nicole tells him she has a boyfriend and is not interested in a romantic relationship. She adds: “It’s fun to talk to different people sometimes.” The only apparent thing Frank and Nicole seem to have in common is their interest to write stories. Perhaps they want to meet just to write one together? “Pickles and Tarts” is a lovely story of illusion-delusion, dream-reality, non-conformist with the Capitalist system, reflective on love, sex and human relationships in today’s world. It is profound and highly intriguing:

    Going back to your post I wouldn’t like to lead the life of that software engineer either. From what you tell he seems to lead the typical Capitalist life and I do not fit in this role. Besides this person prejudges when you tell he wants to have the last say. We should listen more to the others and refrain from prejudging. I too love Fitzgerald, The Great Gasby.

  2. Your writing always has a way of holding my attention, which admittedly has been far from WordPress for many months. Life, travel, solitude, guitar and surprising friendships have been distractions for certain. Disconcerting to hear how someone you call a friend judges you …. but on that note, when are you giving up those cigarettes haha??? How annoyed I get thinking that you and your fellow Indians are being preyed upon by the cigarette corporations for profit while in my own country cigarettes are seen as the epitome of stink and uncool. We get high though …. on morning hikes and donuts :)

    1. Thank you so much Diana. It’s really good to see you here. You play the guitar? I’ve always wanted to, but I gave it up after a few classical guitar classes. I almost learned Asturias by Albaniz but then football (my other passion before an early retirement because of bad lungs!) got in the way. Oh that friend is a little crazy. He judges my writing based on the number of publications that have accepted me! And cigarettes have a way of calming me. Sorry lol. One drag of that Marlboro Red and I’m in La la land! Without Emma Stone though. Shame! I used to like donuts growing up. But I find them too sweet these days. So I settle for beef biryani and laziness. And I wish I lived surrounded by nature and not industry. I’d take you up on that morning walk then!

Leave a Reply