I get up at 830, get ready in 15 minutes, tuck my shirt in my
skirt, slog on the streets and reach office in by 930, annoyed. Everyday.
I thump the water bottle on my desk.
I am irritated. Am always. Don't know why. None has ever asked me.
And I never tried to find out the reason. I always thought there was none. So I
continue to feel irritated.
I keep sitting at my desk and fix my gaze at desktop watching
dollar falling against other currencies, refreshing the computer screen,
ignoring my hunger panks poking my belly. I let them bother me for
another hour till my frustration calms down some inches and am able to tolerate
the fat South Indian woman sitting across my table munching chips and patting
her belly.
After an hour, I snail and pour some milk and water in a bowl of
oats and try to gulp down my throat. I pour some sugar into the tasteless
paste. I look at my bloated tummy. I keep it aside.
I look out of the window. Foggy clouds hovering over the sky scrapers
and lights lit in the late mid morning. I get lost in useless thoughts and half
of the day is over.
The next half is spent replying emails agreeing that Boss is Boss
and looking at the black fat lady peeling bananas and laughing over crappiest
jokes over phone.
It turns dark, I shut down my machine, sway my bag and spend
sleepless nights on my shared apartment with a jittery flatmate. And the next morning and night is going to be no different.
Am convinced, I need Vipassana.
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