I have been based in this city, on and off, all my life – and for the most part have been happiest away. These last few days, something changed. Not the city, just my awareness of it. Have a look at my drive to work, it is quite the happiest part of my day. Every round about is a blaze of spring colour, the roadsides are blooming. That I choose to only drive through the pretty parts of Delhi is a very concious decision, why would one live in this city and not enjoy the bestest part of it. I find I am coming to terms with, if not actually enjoying my city.
It is quite spectacular – at least the bits I choose to see everyday. My spirits lift the moment I cross the Dhaula Kuan flyover and start seeing the pretty flowers and nicely maintained road sides. The Teen Murti Circle is a delight, then I turn and the majestic Rashtrapati Bhawan takes centre stage – very proud making. The fountains and flowers of Vijay Chowk have to be the best bit of it all – such a wonderful spectacle spreads all the way down Rajpath till India Gate. By now I am in such a happy state that the rest of the traffic becomes
inconsequental and the mood wafts me into my office on a haze of happy colour. How easy it is to change a perspective, I only just realized that I have an infinite ability to see only what I please. Thus, when I drive back to Gurgaon in the evening and leave the pretty bits behind, honestly, I still manage to see a very pretty sunset almost everyday through the haze of pollution. It’s a happy state.
Sometime last month I thought I had finally caught the acute family malady – depression. Believing all my life that I had evaded this one overwhelming genetic disaster, an already down me was bought even lower thinking it was just late in coming. So imagine my plight – grey out the window (it’s just Delhi). Cold, (which I hate when it is city based cold) take me to a snowy topped mountain and life is fine. But there weren’t any trips in the offing.
I had descended into that horrible state where one wallows, not even trying to get out of it, all I wanted was the heater, preferably bed and a hot water bottle. The world was grey, the future held no excitement, the books were boring, the crossword undoable, the friends had deserted. It was a long weekend and there was no work, I should have gone home to ‘The Pind’ but I could not find the energy. I am quite sure there are many who empathise with this, it was rather alien to my normally upbeat self.
This is when the hum drums of life can save your soul. Sheila my wonderful keeper of all things necessary – home, market, kitchen, laundry et al – fell sick! I hope you understand the depths of despair this bought with it. I had to get out of bed – I had to go to the shop for milk. On the way to the shop I had to walk through the pretty garden and there I met a pansy – the flower – to clarify!
When my daughters were little they had pansy friends – see drawing – those beds of pansies were invested with real people and whole families. Grandfathers to little girls. This little burgeoning pansy suddenly lifted that horrible pall of gloom and made me smile in remembrance. I got back home with the milk and pulled out all the old drawings
and little stories that went with them.
But before that while I stood there smiling at the pansy a friend came along, that led to a conversation and the invitation to a drink. More gloom lifted. Back home with all the old stuff scattered around, the stories got put in order and the drawings collated. They might even go to a publisher now?
Happiness and purpose all due to a packet of milk and a pansy.