I don’t know what day of the lockdown is it today. I am guessing 45. But it could very well be 44. Or 46. For all I care. You know, the days seem to be blurring into each other and things seem to be losing their meaning. Most people I know seem to be ok with it. You know, they’ve made peace with this idea of staying indoors. And why not? At least the circles I move in, these people have relatively comfortable homes (not houses), a steady paycheck, a family to bank on, and limited things that they’re worried about. And these are things like where would I get that next bottle of Black Label from. Or where do I get that Parmesan Cheese from, you know, Nature’s Basket is closed!
Yeah yeah, I sound a tad jealous. And truth be told, I am. Jealous as fuck! To a point that I am questioning the choices that I’ve made in life. The path I am on. The journey I’ve taken. Of course, I don’t know where I would end up (if there is any ending up… I mean it could all be over before I know it…). And all I would leave behind is this collection of rants that no one would be interested in.
But then, today is not about this jealousy. But about something else. About being a man. And not a boy.
When this lockdown started, inspired by a quip from Neo, I decided that I will take this opportunity to get some large things done – write my book2, flatten my belly, get my website up and running, learn new things, think about the future, learn guitar, reskill, fix my posture and I dont know how many more such lofty goals that I am full off.
And the entire premise was that without any distractions of travel, socializing, and busyness, a real man would be able to put his head down and actually get things done! After all, those are the things that you blame when you can’t do things.
And I started like I always do. With so much excitement and spring in the step that it would put the fucking bunnies to shame. And then, as time passed, I started to become that person that loves to procrastinate, that allowed the monkey mind to rule my thoughts and got distracted by things like poker, films, and hyperbole. I mean I did EVERYTHING but work on those things that I had to work on. Of course, I did get the website to some semblance of design. I did try my hands at the guitar and I can now play the C chord really well (something that I learned while I was in class 10, around 1997). I did think about the book (I think I made some progress but with each increasing day I am realizing I don’t have the next book in me). In fact, if I can’t get 20K words on book2 in May, I will stop working on it for the foreseeable future. Plus, my work! The most important. The idea was the reskill myself in these 45 days and get employable and survive. But no. Not even the existential crisis is making me move my butt. You know, natural selection? No wonder people like me perish!
On this 45th day, if I look back, I have little to show for. And I know there is no one out there looking out for things I do and all that, but then there is that wretched mirror. You know the one that shows you who you are? The one that is easiest to fool? And if not that mirror, this blog!
Get the drift?
Brings me back to the point with which we started.
Men. Boys.
Over and out.
PS: When I rant like that, please do note that I am not being tough on myself. I am programmed in a way that I like the idea of shooting really really high and then land at a better spot than what I was when I started. So, this is not self-pity or something. But a gentle reminder that I need to do more!