Moments: Trammeled or Tickled
Le Psyché, 1876, Art by Berthe Morisot
I lingered over the pages of the “Domination and Hegemony” chapter after dinner; it’s Stuart Hall’s Cultural Studies 1983. An extremely unadjusted daily routine somehow had been budging my entire physical and mental state for the last four-five days. The late-night work on the assignments and the new almost round oversized glasses had made me look like an exact owl—big-tiring eyes, dark circles, and the exceptional ‘one week old, newly found’ grumpy face. It usually never came to me like a burden of work; rather I enjoyed my study time even as good as Hermione did, but this time, this little fuss had been created like something of an enigma. That night I was working on my third assignment for the Partition and Diasporic Literature module. The night was slipping into the aggressive cloak of a storm. It was not sudden; the weather gave the glimpse quite earlier. I could see the toiling of the trees, the splash of heavy rain drops on my closed window and hear the long whining of the stray dogs. But I could not concentrate to finish the socio-political analysis of the human dislocation theory and the aftermath effect of the Indian partition history.
I stood up. I could see some drudgingly-looking stains on my laptop screen. I moved towards the washroom cabinet and grabbed the cleaning spray and some tissues. I was still thinking about the personal history section of the Indian partition and by mistake, sprayed the cleaning liquid directly on the screen. By the time I could manage to wipe it, I saw as if my words were skimmed from the screen in an awkwardly uneven, watery motion. And I sensed that my energy had obeyed a lot. It certainly reached towards the most-awaited downfall moment. I sat on my bed.
We often drag ourselves to achieve the extreme notch of our ability. We create, or it’s even been created for us to make us feel that we need to behave passionately each day. But what do we do to adore our wellness? That question was the Ina* moment for me. Our mind and body try to cope with our own or the systems’ expectations. On that day, when I knew I needed sleep or I needed to cure my week-long shoulder pain, I continued the assignment work in order to maintain my own satisfaction and my name as the most punctual student of the batch. Expectations made me blind. Spiritual teacher and author Eckhart Tolle says to ask ourselves, “What’s going on inside me at this moment?” He further says, “The question will point you in the right direction...Focus your attention within.”
I feel that one moment is enough to change the mindset. Our work would never stop and it should not. But in those ‘busy’ hours we often trammel our moments, and it happens quite forcefully. The reset mechanism can change our moment at any place or at any echelon. Time may not wish to be frankly flexible for us as it used to be in the famous Hogwarts corridors. But our own awareness can make it better or even more sumptuous. We can tickle our time to make it ours, only ours.
Momentarily, if we can change our perspectives, we can make it an easy deal. That day, I chose to sleep. I woke up a bit early. My subconscious mind noticed my unfinished work quite gingerly. I could even feel the shoulder pain; I could see the witnesses of last night’s storm; I could see the dogs were still shaking off the remaining water from their bodies; but then could see the rise of a warm sunny day. We can see the scars even if we start afresh. But if we would continue to make our moments better, eventually one day the scars would fade away, too. It is a continuous process; it works just like the clock.
(*In Sanskrit, Ina (इन).—a. means determined or anything that is powerful.)