high voltage urine pressure by my mom at 3:30 am. I get up and help her sit on the toilet seat pot. i had entered sleep by 12:30 – 1 am. an awful night of kapil sharma comedy night show and me drawing on a A 3 size sketchbook.
Notes on Drawing:
I slept saying this to my self. there are two divisions. One is to draw and the other is to question – is this an illustration, if so, then what is an illustration. The former is where you are into the drawing. The latter you are into drawing and the question. This was a response to the question of how the current yoga series was started and how it was started in 2015 but i could not take forward.
I shut my book and my mom had her blanket fixed properly so that she could roll around in all directions.
She woke me up. I got her slippers on. helped her get up and hold the walker. put the toilet roll near her and helped her sit on the chair pot placed next to the bed.
I then gave her water, warm water because she has a chronic cough problem for few weeks. Cold weather. Delhi is freezing as of now.
I slept but i did not sleep. Mind open up like a refrigerator left open. It did not shut at all. Right from a family member pronounced dead, or was let to die because of something. I am yelling to me dad, how could you do this. that person wanted to live, to making love on a bench which is so thin and sleek, that i am not sure how it is happening. it is is a public place because people have take refuge in a room, and there are many of us. And by 7 am, the lights are on. And it ends up being an embarrassing situation.
In between i have checked the time. I was somewhere at 7:45 am. Wake up at 8:45 am because my mom is calling me to wake up. That is almost 9 am. And she has pain in her stomach and she feels the potty pressure.
I get up and rush to make her Black tea and coffee to myself. I have lost this sense of being awake early morning which it is not. By 9 am her tea with Britannia rusk is served. She is having it and stool pressure starts. She calls me out and i rush to get her on the toilet seat and the door bell rings and her attendant is here and i rush to my room.
I am in my room and typing this sentence out. I start writing this because yesterday i had bought the books Dreams by Carl Jung and a book on Ghalib poetry. Yesterday was 26th jan, Republic day. I did not get a phone call for an award from the Government. It hurts and another republic day gone.
How we fall into sleep, what we are doing, i am sure everything would matter and what is going on in our head. I did not know the person who was on top of me, trying to make love to me. We did not know each other but it happened. The intensity of that moment was as such, that i could feel the realness of that moment. There were many in that room. It was like a survival room, maybe from a storm and no one knew each other. A neighbour who stays in front of my house was there. But he was there during day time also as i had visited the unfurling of the flag on jan 26th morning. So because i met him, he was there but others were un known. one called me and asked me, did i take a pill and if i did, how was the experience. I had no clue what he was referring to. Pill for what ? i thought ? is it like a drug ? It was white person with a orange beard. And in the dream he was not talking to me till the morning. When he said hi and called me towards him. The love making session under the blanket had ended. We were all dressed up now. But i saw myself without a shirt for sometime too. It was like all through out this, i was in a room where no one was there and then many were there, like it a public place with benches, seats, like a WAITING AREA, a lobby area
It is crazy how dreams are. How real these events occur. The family death signified this sense of loss. And meeting this unknown person was about the sense of love and being with someone. If one is a desire, the other is undesired. In both cases, these are events happening and i am coming to know one is a desire, the other is a fear. Something you don’t desire.
Yesterday as i ate my sandwich on the public road as malls were allowed to open at 2 pm due to Jan 26th restrictions, i realised we see and portray events as events in a movie or a drawing, or when we talk about it. we frame it, but in reality there is no frame. All our stories which are framed to make sense, to give a meaning, to create emotions, to help us feel something, but in reality this may not be true. I went to the market and on the way saw a crash of many automobiles and it was BLAH BLAH BLAH. I saw something. so it is an event. But in reality, there are a thousand crashes happening in that moment. I saw therefore it is an event. I remember it now. I am traumatised. I want to share my story. But in reality, in that moment, right behind the crash, or a moment before so much unseen happened or is happening after the crash. And how and what we create as an event ? The ridiculous nature of things…
Did the crash actually happen ?? is it because we were so close to the event, that we saw it and thought it is an event. that it was loud and cars are not crashing all the time. And we have fixated yes which see ahead. What if there was a crash behind me and a crash behind that and a crash behind that. And this was visible, then meaning of an event would change. Why are we so limited or made so limited. I hate this human body. This is why i put the news channel on at all times. to see, to take my eyes everywhere. I want to see more and more at one go and not just the egg i peel every day.
Notes on drawing: Drawing is from the layer of the dream, of the unconsciousness, from the past, from memory but also from this useless human body which sees an event as an event and gets impacted. Its time to change this body, mix it with animal blood, organs and expand our seeing to many more horizons to make that drawing stroke which depicts all of this and much much more.
Have a good day and do yoga.