The Performance

Got up late. Did the alarm not go off? Actually, it did. Smart speaker alarms are soft if you turn down the speaker volume. A mistake I shouldn’t repeat.

The speaker was low because I was listening to Mumford & Sons. Why? Because there is a performance coming up, and there is a Mumford & Sons song in there. Three close friends. All three I share my own music with. They comment on my music. So I reached out to them.

“Hey, would you be interested in a private performance at my place? We’ll have a beer or two and talk. Also sing. I play some of my songs and some covers. You can suggest some if you’d like. I’ll do my best to learn them “

Honestly, I’m surprised they said yes. But they did. It is the day after. And now I have about 55 songs to try to learn. I know pretty well about 25 of the songs. I’m talking covers so far. There’s another 20 or so of my originals. I don’t think I’ll get to do all of them.

Some of the artists if/for you must know.

• ’60s & ’50s
  • Frank Sinatra
  • Nina Simone
• ’70s
  • Led Zeppelin
  • John Lennon
• ’80s
  • Guns ‘N Roses
  • Rick Astley
• ’90s – a lot of grunge and alternative
  • Alice In Chains
  • Nirvana
  • Pearl Jam
  • Soundgarden
  • Stone Temple Pilots
  • Depeche Mode
• ’00s
  • Death Cab For Cutie
• ’10s
  • Hozier (can’t believe this)
  • Mumford & Sons

I have been rehearsing with a mic for a couple of days to prepare. I have to say that I’m surprising myself. I don’t actually sound bad. And the only person that has consistently told me that I sound bad is me.

Stream of Thoughts

Morning. 150 pages down. Ci Xin Liu is a genius. One book ends and another starts. Work also started. Feeling good. Go for a run. Buy snacks for a friend. Run quite well, after a long time. It’s either swimming or running, but not both. At least not yet. Sit on my favorite bench.

The boy walks past me. Merrily. He’s dancing. I smile. One of the dogs has earworms. Not the song kind. Real ones. He wants to scratch his ear off. My whistles go in vain. Patti Smith is in Mexico. She has introduced me to Frida Kahlo. I should have known more, but I didn’t.

Pico Iyer is still falling in love. In Kyoto. It’s a bit sappy. I am a bit tired, but there is a responsibility. Cormac McCarthy has taken a backseat. For no reason at all. Maybe because he’s the best among them all. Something you want to leave behind for the last morsel.

I pick up three twigs. Different sizes. I walk up to the boy. I ask him, ‘Would you like these?’ I think the boy smiles at me. Even if he hadn’t, he extends his arms and takes the twigs. I smile. My smile is certain. On my way back up, I see a young lady introducing her plump Labrador to school kids.

I have three days of newspapers to catch up. The op-eds in Malayalam newspapers are something else. I think I’m somewhat proud of Kerala. There is an element of intellectualism that is not snobbish. Like how it is in a good book.

Good books are like Kerala, then? Good books from Kerala then, too? Benyamin is on my coffee table. Goat Days. Ever heard of it? Go look it up.

A Well-Spent Weekend

I have had a couple of good weeks. It is very unlikely that such a thing would happen around this time of the year. In fact, I go into a slump around October.

I’m not sure what is different, but I do seem to have more patience. Singing is helping, especially the bit of walking around with an acoustic guitar strapped to you. The motion gives you varying acoustics and you tend to discover more beautiful corners in spaces that you would miss otherwise.

This morning is an example. After waking up, I started reading. Soon I had company. An adolescent kitten called Sinju and KiKi were there. I played with them. They chased after balls separately and one chased the other (playfully) up a tree.

Once they both tired, I walked around Jay’s country home yard (or property) with my acoustic guitar. I met all the cats (including three tiny kittens). Then I came back and read a chunk of The Dark Forest as the sun came up over the hills first and then the trees.

KiKi gives me company while I read The Dark Forest

Then I had a wonderful conversation with Jay, who woke up crabby. I even made him smile. Genuinely.

This year, something is different.

PS: Jay and I celebrate our 11th anniversary today.

Assorted

Today was eleven years to the day before or two days after I met Jay. We met online first and then in real life.

I gave a paperback copy of “A Man Without A Country”, which, in retrospect was a poor decision. The paperback part, and not the book.

We rode to his country home across the bay on our motorcycles. In the process, I got completely lost twice, thanks to Google Maps mishaps.

We made unniappams to celebrate. It’s the first time we tried to make it properly and they turned out really good. See pic.

We almost adopted a new cat (? kitten) called Sinju. Almost because Jay was not convinced that his mythical cat persona (a cat that likes being picked up and lies with you if you decide you want it to — basically, a cat with no agency) won’t be fulfilled by it.

I’m a bit sad because of this. I think Sinju would have been the perfect dovetailing companion to Blu.

Unniappams

Little victories

It’s very easy to overlook what one has achieved, especially if you are me.

My therapist asks me about the voices that I hear telling me not to celebrate victories however little they might be. I tell her that it might be an earlier version of me.

The childhood version of me was put on tenterhooks for performance in school. It was my only saving grace. It was the only “good” thing about being me.

So as an adult, I’m still judging myself–an able replacement for all the people who used to–to judge and belittle myself.

It does not matter what I do. I could have

• learned swimming
• finished projects
• gotten phenomenal feedback at work and in music, or
• felt good about socializing

But I’ll still be someone who has very little “good” about themselves.

Requests

I’m taking them. For covers. Do you have any?

More context. I’m performing some of my songs (originals and covers) to an audience of one (other than me) next week. And I’m excited.

So send in requests.

For example, a friend of mine, unbeknownst to the abovementioned performance, asked me to learn and perform for her “Cherry Wine – Live” by Hozier. It’s a relatively tough song.

The reading nook

My kitchen balcony is where I read. I spend some time every day at the top of the day, but also long hours during holidays.

In the daytime, with a view. The umbrella is aimed East-Northeast, which is where the hills are.

My current physical stack

Blu is always there as company

At night, with a reading lamp

I’m so proud and thankful ofof Jay for making this for me. I have been using it for years now, but I have never taken the time to appreciate how wonderful this is.

Better

Today was different. Dare I say I find joy in doing things. I feel queasy when I say this. But I do see the evidence. I’m trying to be funny. I’m trying to initiate conversations. I’m thinking about doing things differently.

Someone asked me at the top of the day how I was doing, and I said ‘Not too bad, thank you.’

Let’s see what I did differently. Mind you – today was a holiday for me.

• I woke up later without an alarm.
• Instead of jumping into routine reading, I did some things that I had been putting away.
• I did not feel like I was running out of time.
• I wrote about things that matter to me — about gay marriage equality — on LinkedIn.
• I interacted with people who I don’t interact with on LinkedIn.
• I interacted with work colleagues on holiday.
• I took photos of Blu and shared them with people who I cared for.
• I chatted with a friend of mine, whom I stubbornly refuse to meet, about books.
• I finished listening to The Ministry For The Future by Kim Stanley Robinson; in retrospect, it was so-so.
• Then I started reading and I finished a book (Mr. Cables); it was an enjoyable thriller. I’d read more works by Ronald Malfi, the author.
• Then, something that I had not planned for happened. The local internet service provider announced himself to convert my connection to fiber. He and I spent a painstaking 3 hours to get the cabling done (thanks to shoddy work by my contractor and electrician a few years back). I had a meal in the middle of this and I cleaned up after all the mess that was created. All through this, I found myself to not lose my cool.
• Then I watered the plants, cleaned the litter, and took a shower.
• Then I read at my reading nook, rediscovering how nice it actually is. Today was a breezy, relatively cool, hot day.
• For the first time in I don’t know how long, i felt like indulging in myself. I ordered a couple of bottles of red and some beers. The wine because I was inspired by the lead character in Mr. Cables.
• I rehearsed a bit, singing songs from various genres. This was fun. I sound like I’m having fun. I’m having fun sounding like I am.
• Read a bunch of The Dark Forest by Ci Xin Liu. What a book! What concepts.
• Watched the World Cup game on the side.
• Had a nice conversation with Jay.
• Had dinner.
• Now I’m writing and finishing up my day.

So someone asked me at the end of the day how I was doing. I said, ‘I’m better.”

Tell me again why you control what I eat

The Marginalian

Have I told you about The Marginalian yet? I bet I have, and I bet several times. Maria Popova is an inspiration.

This morning, I find myself doing things differently. I’m in Jay’s kitchen, on my laptop, with a fight card streaming on my phone. I’m going through my emails and discovering things and going down rabbit holes.

For example, I read about Britney Spears’ memoir and her inspirations picked up the acoustic guitar, and started singing Spears’ and related songs. I had conversations with friends about this. I sent them movie recommendations. I sent them recordings of my singing.

Now I find myself having deep conversations about my struggling relationship with Jay, about the failed attempt at being a band and releasing music with my cousins (who seem to know more about my band’s music than I do).

In the middle of it all, I stumbled on The Marginalian newsletter, with a poem that seems to symbolize my experience as a human.

So if you haven’t already, subscribe to The Maginalian newsletter. Let yourself have an opportunity to be washed with goodness twice a week.