Well, where should I start? And the less generous ones would say, why start at all?
But start I must because I have been still too long. And I have moved a lot, in different worlds and places. More good and bad. I have seen my son growing up every week and I feel sorry that it is not every day.
It all restarted one morning in a bus. And that was after a few tiring days of walking about in the hills. And lack of sleep and lack of peace. I got up very early in the morning and after the usual half-hearted efforts got out of home and made my way to the bus stop. It was till dark, and there was a bit of a nip in the air.
As the bus moved, I remembered the previous night when I had felt some of the same anxiety and worry. I had brushed it aside knowing or maybe not knowing better.
And all of a sudden it came on to me. Kind of met me rushing up the road as I moved south to Delhi. It was physical, visceral, terrifying and kind of so terrifying that I did not initially know what it was. It was just there. Anxiety. Here I am in this bus, hurtling along not fast enough. My mouth is dry, and my heart feels like it will pop out of my chest, beating away faster than the bus does. If it chewed up the kilometers on the road, I would be in Delhi in no time. A few thoughts crossed my mind, should I get off or continue, and as stingy as I am, I decided to stay on and take my chances with death. I have been conditioned to worry, knowing that people in my family die early in the morning with symptoms just like mine. And they think that they are not going to die until they are already dead. Leaving behind everyone more surprised than shocked and in sorrow. And it continued longer than it should. It was very bad. What can I say, dear reader. It was very bad. I think of my son, and if maybe he will grow up without me or worse still, grow up even without a memory of me. And now I am thinking of options, that happens all the time. I wonder what I can do, and tick off each as I consider it inappropriate or inopportune. I have already decided against getting down. So, I try to palpate my pulse, and through the racket the engine is making, I detect a certain Mr Tachycardia. He feels and looks like my boss. The good thing however is that I don't seem to be getting worse (what happens if I do). Strangely enough, I seem to feel sleepy. And that even to me, is strange. I wonder is that feeling faint or am I slipping into unconsciousness? And again i do some attention and concentration tests to myself, and decide that I am pretty fine as far as that goes. And finally after a few agonizing minutes, I decide that it is better to go to sleep and take my chances than to live through this terror. So i sleep for some comforting minutes.