Bedraggled by a bedrest? – Just "Eat, pray, love"

Sometimes days simply spreadeagle to nights, like a coiled up python, which has had its fill! And many a time, the night just snores away to glory, only to rub itself awake like a wayward drunkard – fuzzy and frizzed up!  Lying on the cot thus, stifling a mammoth yawn, and gaping at the ceiling fan that was running in full speed, I could hear the clock ticking. For a change, even time seemed to drawl in the rather ‘no-motion’ state of affairs at my end.   No longer tethered to the wheels of time, the deadlines, targets and the speeding tracks to reach goals,  I looked at the patch of blue through  my bedroom window. This little window was like an expanse of limitlessness compared to the confines of the room I had been moored in, for  the past 90 days + x hours. It made me feel like a 90-year-old crone who would rather hobble about the place with a hatchet and go poking her grandchildren in the ribs! Not to mention, that my general appearance had become unkempt, with the mane conveying the look of something, a wild cat had messed around with.  

So, it was less wonder that every time I rose from bed to do the morning rituals or otherwise, I attracted attention.  For, every rising from my side, meant a creaking noise(mostly from the cot, though I imagined it to be the over-wrought nerve and muscles combo that had conspired  to make me bed ridden). This was accompanied by an occasional squeal and  laggard movements. The antics from my end would have continued for more days,  had not one of my dearest family member remarked one day while handing out a mop to me “Kick this mop with your heels, and you may go flying like a witch. When you do, don’t forget to let out the signature cackle”. I blinked, pulled my ears slightly to ensure I was hearing things right. I was not in doubt anymore, when the dearest family member continued, “ I will get  you a cocked hat, to suit your  fancy.  It would be a welcome change for us too, from watching you in the perpetual sleeping pose of Ananthashayana(that is the meditative and nidra pose of Lord Vishnu of the Hindu trinity)” . Well, allusions to cackling witches and sleepy lord Vishnu were enough to bristle me up. I wanted to stomp out with chagrin but my limpid left foot barely allowed me a steady step(it was acting as if it had borne the burden of the world, much like Atlas- of course good old Atlas would not have fussed so much). So I dragged myself  to where the wash basin was, washed my face and settled down back in bed.

While lying down, I made sure that I did not assume the Ananthashayanam but the firm flat-on-the-back pose. As I did so, my eyes fell on the collection on the book  shelf. From philosophy to fiction, there was something to attract a book-lover. I had read most of those, rather devoured them like a hungry caterpillar. But there was the one, among the lot, which still remained the ‘virgin’’, despite the fact that I had let my hands and eyes  rove through it many a time! (Alright, alright, we are not straying off to the realm of erotica, out here!)The book’s fresh feel  was always palpable through its story and the lead character- Liz who turns over a new leaf in a journey through  Eat, pray, love” .  And, now as I held it close to  my heart, “Eat, pray, love” was more like an incantation  to embark me on a journey of the  world- to visit new places, people,  revel in the tasteful experiences of life-lively, liberating, to make you fall in love all over again. Bound to one room – a cot, with a tiny window by my side, was it possible to travel the way I wished to?. Of course, I could not invoke a spell that would give me magical wings, all on a sudden. But one thing I had forgotten was that the bedrest had released me from the routine. No chores, no daily targets, no deadlines and best of all, my dependent family members- kids were not in my territory! I was literally rather figuratively ‘footloose and fancy free’! With the expanded mind space and timelessness that had seeped in during this period, I just decided to “Eat, pray, Love”. No, not re-reading the book but living that story, real-time, my way, by breaking free from the clichés and frontiers of my mind.  So, this is how I started to:

• ·         “EAT” : more than seeking comfort foods that would gel with my body’s present sluggish metabolism, I longed for anything that gave ‘FOOD FOR THOUGHT’.  The thought process translated into eating others’ heads too – ah, not in the way of cannibalistic tendencies but buttonholing folks and friends  for delightful conversations. Elders, youngsters , the resident and visiting family members were eager to drop by my side and engage with me, and rollick into a laugh riot. In between slices of foodie delights, were these sessions that served as food for the soul. And boy was it yummm!!! It never gave me the craving for the junk food treats, which I had intentionally  banned from my life for the time being(I had a diet regimen strictly charted out, to factor in the  hibernating state of my body. I mean I did not want to  end up looking like a sloth bear once I was back on my feet). The bonding I shared with folks and family in the relatively non-existent 4^th dimension was something to cherish. I soaked in every moment as I would have soaked in a full-bodied red wine(I had abstained from alcohol as well during this period)! Well, it was something like the sore need of a prayer, answered!

• ·         “PRAY” :  No, I did not don the hermit and pluck a Rudraksh from the devout and pious uncle, next door, to pray. Nor did I subject myself to a sacramental bath(as laid out in  Tambram tradition ) or smear my forehead with ash or vermillion before stepping into the shrine(despite remarks from the right honorable elders to invoke piety in me, I just remained the sloth admiring the newly grown fungus on my body). I would lay  on  my back, looked at the ceiling and closed my eyes(not with the intent of sleeping).  I would let loose my arms, my breath and my entire being(but let me reiterate, I did not go into a state of trance). I slowly learnt to let go – of the worries,  anxiety and most of all, my fear- little by little. That was my divine connect – to surrender my existence to the universe. This, I did, looking at the blank walls, the little window which showed a patch of the blue sky or the tree branches that spangled against the blue. With a sense of stillness, I created a sanctum within that reassured me, gave me hope and, helped me restore faith.  By faith, I don’t mean an endeavour for a heightened state of spirituality but a simple state of mind, body and soul that would bind everything in harmony. That meant setting right my spinal nerves as well, which were acting like a flustered octopus. (Luckily I was learning therapeutic yoga for my condition and it aligned perfect whenever I went into a prayer mode. It helped, to an extent, to let go and forgive the nervy ‘octopuses’! )

<There were times I visualized myself as the Zen disciple, unruffled amid zillion jelly fish floating around to prick, while I would smile and attempt to blow them away. >  It was like a panacea for my manifested pain>

• ·         ‘Love’ :  I will not delve into the long drawn love affairs I have had with chocolates and potato chips because I still love them, conditionally though. (as long as the weighing scales don’t creak much, they remain the apple of my eye, leaving the rosy red apples to rot in the larder). Love graduated  from ferraro rochers and melting marshmallows, as I grew up to get fond of roses to a certain extent, badminton for the sporting spirit, books in all shapes and sizes. Not to leave out fellow humans who would size up perfect as per my “vital statistics” of being lovable(from the bearded to the clean shaven, rugged to immaculate; the dynamics of loving changed with every passing phase of life). Well, the many experiences of life also taught me that love does not appear with a perfect hour glass figure(imagine lady love being in a tightening corset and getting choked! All for the title of Miss perfect). Well, “the perfect” too had expanded in my current mind space as 3 months of bedrest had inured me to constant nightmares of ballooning waistlines(I had reconciled with this, as part of ‘extra large’ love nature had bestowed on me). So, I fell in love with almost everything – big and small. Passing moments became precious when I decided to pause. I indulged in some of my favourite things. These included all that I let slip by in the bottleneck routine of the past decade.

For instance, I pored over books like a hungry bookworm(if any of you in the future intend borrowing my books and sight love-bites and glaring hickeys, take heart- I am the source.)

While books were as seductive as a celestial nymph, I took a breather now and then by listening to music. Now this was the time for me to perform the stress test on my vocal chords. Not that I croaked in the name of singing. But I was a bathroom singer by choice. So, I decided to give my voice a wider platform- from the bathroom to the confines of a bedroom, “melodies” floated in all directions. I did not brook being a neighbourly nuisance with my vocal renditions!

If music filled the air, colors and shades filled my canvas. Oh yes, I loved wielding my brush and painting strokes with an intensity that it almost breathed life into those images. And then came to life the imagery, metaphors and….words that expressed my love to write! And, would I call that unbounded love, which liberates a soul from confines as constricting as the coils of Vishnu’s Ananthashayanam(his snake bed- Adisesha)!

<..and folks, by the time you get wrapped in the “love” of my blog, I might have just sprung up in a new avatar- wrapped in a 9-yard sari(traditional Tamil brahmin wear), with an over-sized diamond nose stud and a Trident(triple-purpose with a pen, brush &  betel nut crusher). I would love to dish out philosophy in this avatar, while crunching betel leaves and thwacking the inattentive ones with my cane. Ah! That moment of bliss would just be like “Eat, pray love”.>