i wish i had a digital camera, and much more technology to teleport, project, spew around this worldPosted: 11/28/2011
the maggots are dead. the coffee mugs are done. the water is boiling on the stove. stumbling, tumblring, facebooking, googling, and pressing here – that’s how most of my days go. i read some odd thousand pages. find some artistes whose work inspire me. draw for a little while. finish the pending work. then the dirty house dawns upon me.
it perplexes me how some people find it hard to wash their own plates. it was something we just did at our house. and moreover, when we went to another’s house. people walk in and out of this place everyday, but they can’t even get themselves to throw away the extra food on their plates to the crows.
today, felt like an archaeological expedition. rummaging through maggot flavoured curd, old chicken bones, the greasy smell of masala, and the packages of dried up biriyani, among the million cigarette buds that found themselves somehow into the kitchen sink.
zen and the art of cleaning is something i encountered when i was in school. we had this rota periods, where each class takes turns in a week to wash the plates and clean the lunch hall. that is when i read on the zen ways of cleaning; at a time when i hated this class. keeps things like somebody cared about it.
i had a new-found love for washing dishes. i’d wash them at school. at home. at an aunt’s home. anywhere. but nowadays, the dishes just manage to pile up. have i become lazy? that maybe, but something else perplexes me.
how does one make something a home? for instance, a place where my mom is or my grandmom is or probably anyone of our mom’s are just manages itself miraculously. true. my mom puts in hours of work in the house, and my father periodically cleans the toilets and the fans and the electronics. but, somehow once something is supposed to be somewhere, like the newspaper ought to be in the brown shelf second from the left, in the hall, it goes there.
here at my place, it takes four days for each newspaper to find its way there.
so what am i lacking? discipline? knowledge?will power? a strong hand to wield over all those who contribute to this mess?
self-criticism is easier than blaming. there are lesser consequences.
keep everything like somebody cared about it.
it is high time i reminded myself about this. i just so wish the process wasn’t tiring. maybe there’s a way to make cleaning an energy giving process, instead of something tiring.
one: don’t let it become a sty.
two: do something everyday.
three: eat well. drink lots of water. and forget everything else. you know you can’t stand a dirty house, how much ever you ignore it.
[using small caps everywhere: deliberately]