Disoriented much!

 It's 7th February, 2026, Saturday. The time is 7:20 am as I sit in my single bed with my laptop on my lap, directly facing my roommate who is trying to catch some sleep despite the noise from my morning chores. She was working late last night, and I had slept early, hence it's an early morning for me. It's not yet summer in Hyderabad; winter is slowly passing us by, but on cloudy mornings like this, the chilly breeze through the window and the chirping of the birds outside almost trick the mind into believing that it's winter after all. I woke up with an urge to go on a morning walk, but logic stepped in and convinced me that perhaps the walk should feature in my evening routine, as my allergies from yesterday could use the extra time to disappear.

That settled, I woke up to the Instagram post of a friend who is going through an ugly personal phase, yet has found that gleam of hope in her daily documentation of her pursuits in academics. Her post could instantly inspire anyone feeling stuck in hopelessness, but for me, it created weird sensations. I think that's why people say not to doom scroll just after you wake up or just before you go to bed. Some (un)known reel or post on your feed doesn't deserve this kind of power over your moods. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against my friend here, nor anyone else posting whatever it is they post. I just mean that I've been a witness to her struggle with the inner voices, and to now see her finding a coping mechanism is sure great, but it has somehow transported me back to my life in Guwahati, where I, too, had gone through a rough patch. This February morning is a lot like the many solitary mornings I spent in my small 1 RK unit in Guwahati, where I would wake up deeply optimistic to take on the world, sit on my aesthetic seating corner on the floor with a huge mug of Ronga Saah and a packet of Marie biscuit, my journal and some book. I would create the illusion of being happy, of knowing what I wanted to do with my day or life, and would sit there for at least an hour, during which time I would sometimes also talk to my mother on a call. But by noon, all my zeal would be gone, and I'd find myself crying, feeling anxious, lonely, troubled, and whatnot. Yet another day would pass by without any human interaction and without me feeling productive, happy, or content. I lived that life through one summer and winter, all the while praying desperately for a miracle exit, and my exit did appear in the form of my admission here in Hyderabad. Life hasn't been as dark since, and while the daily struggles persist, I am content in knowing that each day that I breathe and live here, I'm essentially living an answered prayer.

I sat down to write all this, feeling very overwhelmed, but now I feel very vague, almost hollow. I guess the mental and emotional struggles of the past have a way of leaving us feeling numb every time we recall them. Perhaps that's why so many of us only remember the good things about a place, person or thing after they've gone from our lives. Perhaps that's why exes always appear perfect post-breakup! In relationships, we might want to appreciate a person and their efforts while there is still time, by overlooking the flaws and focusing more on the good side, and that often works (for some time at least). But what about an ugly phase of life where you have nothing to look forward to, no person to talk to, and just constantly feel like the world is against you? I know the approach should be the same, but we all know that this optimism is easier prescribed than implemented! Realistically, I think, sometimes the way out of the ugly is through the ugly itself. No amount of confetti and decor can reduce the ugly; we can try (as we must), but sometimes the way to better days is by surviving the dark days without life support! I'm told that such an approach builds character. Interesting!

I would partially agree to that because I did find myself better able to manage disappointment after my Guwahati phase but I should also warn you (in case you haven't noticed already) that the lessons we learn in life (just like the lessons we learned from textbooks in school) are often forgotten or lost in some quiet corner of the brain when an opportunity to use them doesn't present itself for a long time. That's why we find ourselves constantly engaged in a process of learning and relearning...not many can endure the unlearning, but learning and relearning are something we all constantly do. You may learn the same lesson twice or more times in your life, and while you may say things like, 'Ah! I'm such a fool to repeat the same mistake again,' know it in your heart that it's okay to make the same mistake more than once as long as the lesson is learned with the same integrity and intent to not repeat it.

Where am I going with this? Did my last sentence sound like I'm (in)directly supporting infidelity? If it did sound like that, please accept my apology. I am not as ardent a proponent of infidelity as I appear, but I also understand (in certain cases) where it comes from. The real cause of infidelity (not for repeat offenders, but for those of whom we might not expect it) for such people who are otherwise nice humans, is often rooted in a prolonged deprivation of some form of validation they seek. Again, not supporting disloyalty, but just saying that people always have reasons behind doing what they do, to accept or reject those reasons and call them moral/immoral is something very subjective, and something we Indians are trained to do since childhood!

So, I began with comparing this morning with mornings in Guwahati, went on to talk about approaches to hardships and then somehow landed up (poorly) defending whatever my take on infidelity is. Quite disoriented!

I shall leave you there, dear reader. I must take charge of the rest of the day now.
Happy Weekend to you!