“I don’t know how to react anymore, and I say this regularly to me.” I sent this text to a friend after seeing someone’s story of how they lost their first cousin to Covid. I wonder how my social media, especially the stories, are filled with pain, and I can’t process the emotions anymore. With Farmers’ Protest, Palestine people being bombarded in Gaza, people requesting for Covid resources and eventually all the suffering sometimes makes me numb and at other moments I am just distracting myself from it.
Everytime I see a video of children crying for their lives being in warzones, their lost childhood and the physical, emotional and psychological trauma that they have to carry on forever makes me feel guilty of my privilege. Resultantly, I can’t differentiate between the procrastination and my inability to write in current situation as writing always came naturally to me.
The only way I shift to a calm zone is by being on terrace, a place which has constantly been comforting to me, where I can stare at sky and just be quiet even when my thoughts rarely leave me. The lockdown period brought me closer to this experience. Walking barefoot, looking at the swinging trees, setting sun and crescent moon has been my coping mechanism lately. Obviously the music adds to it.
This makes me think how we all have a calming place, sometimes a person, an experience to keep us intact even when the world is breaking down. Even when “future me” would have traveled different countries, I wish to take this feeling along at unknown places with different people.
The last post made me realise what a touch of personalisation can create and this one feels like journal entry with the fluctuations of random thoughts lined together. So here’s a music piece which consist of lined yet random songs of Kishor Kumar that a friend shared. You can hear it at/with your calming place/person.✨