13 March 2010

Moments of Inertia

Jobless-ness eats into you. Decays you slowly as if you were a piece of meat in a beast's belly. Makes you wonder about things inconsequential. Reminds you of fonder times and activities. Starves you for company of those that matter, and eventually of those that do not. Whispers sweet nothings in your ears that surprisingly do not make you happy. On the contrary you are left more frustrated than ever. Wishing you had something to do. Throwing across that something as nothing even if it crossed your path. The feeling of being without a motive is not a state of activity. It is a state of mind. You might have a hundred things to do and yet feel jobless. Seeking employment and rejecting the idea of doing something. A contradiction that traumatises. A catch-22.

Lying down, looking into space thinking whether it would be better if you sat down instead while looking into space. By and by, you manage to sleep. Four hours. Six. You are in a state of sleepless trance. Wondering whether to leave the bed which is no longer comfortable. But then there should be something to do if you leave your bed, and you can think of nothing. You sleep for another couple of hours. Expecting someone to call. Message. At times you wonder how your life would be if you threw your phone out of the window. But the window is closed and opening it would require a lot of effort. The phone survives. You sit up. Look around you.

Social networking sites and all your electronic correspondences assume a very important role in your life at such times of sloth. Sitting alone with nothing to do is a suffering. As much a physical suffering as it is a mental. Imagine an absolute void and imagine yourself in it. Nothing around. No one to salvage your hide from the rising waters.

You finally decide that it would not do to just sit around. You need partners in boredom. You call a friend. He is busy. Another. He too has issues to deal with. You sigh. Get out of bed. Get dressed. Sit down. Check your mail and e-social correspondences. No one has replied. Darn them all! You look around. Grab a book. Read a few lines. Put it down. It seems too boring. Go out. Roam aimlessly in the hostel. To the market place. For the lack of anything better to do, you eat something. Even though your stomach does not demand it. Even if your stomach curses you for the overload. You manage to kill time with an acquaintance you meet on the street. But he strands you. He has a life. You return to your room. Morbidly turn on the computer. Check your mails. No reply. Look at your bed. Sigh. Get undressed. Get under the covers. Try to sleep. But even sleep has better things to do it seems. After hours of tossing and turning you finally catch some sleep. The day, fortunately, ends.

Sleep offers the only possible solution if no one else volunteers to let you tag along and observe what they are doing. Finding another aimless person is no consolation. Two are not better than one.

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