Reflections of a restless eccentric

 It was a Tuesday night just like any other. Actually, it was better than many others. It was around 9.30pm, and I'd gotten through all my tasks early, and was feeling quite relaxed. I sought happiness in small things that night. All I wanted was to take a long hot bath before turning in, and I was greedy about how much water I wanted. The geyser gave me one full bucket of hot water, and I wanted two. So I went about this silly and elaborate procedure- turned on the geyser, let out a full bucket of steaming hot water, and turned it back on again, while I sat and waited. Feeling utterly serene and relaxed, I called up an old friend. We spoke, laughed, and reminisced. Then, at 10pm came the call that shattered my world and turned everything topsy-turvy. My father was battling for his life. After an entire night spent in the corridor of the ICU, I came back home to that bucket of water. Cold and lifeless, just like the way I felt. If you're a regular reader of my blog, by now, you...

Four months have passed since that dreadful day in November.  At times, I feel that I've fully accepted this "new normal". But my grasp on reality is fragile. Like hanging on to a cliff's edge by holding on to a few bushes. The leaves snap, and I go careening down, not knowing if I'll survive or be smashed to smithereens. Then, I find another handhold or foothold, and feel secure for a while, till I go tumbling yet again. And so it goes. Today is one of the falling days. As was yesterday and the day before. Sometimes, the trigger is merely seeing someone else's reality. A friend said to me "When I go home, my parents take care of everything. I love that carefree feeling." I struggled not to break down then and there, and suppressed the howls of anguish that threatened to erupt. Here I was discussing diapers and bedpans with my Mom, and planning out all the things I had to do over the weekend and coming. Would I ever have that carefree feeling again? ...