Since the last couple of weeks I’ve been trying to meditate 2-3 times a day. Every 4 to 5 hours I am saturated with myself, my ideas, convictions, insecurities, and all that luggage, and with that of the people around me, 10-30 minutes of formal meditation refreshes me and everything is brighter and more colourful after that. When I sit down to meditate, everything is unsettled, mind, body, it takes a few minutes, and there is this moment where suddenly everything is gone and you are flooded with stillness, and you know everything is going to be okay, and it is all just as it should be. Today is a somewhat lighter day, I have done things differently since the morning and have quite enjoyed myself. An hour ago, after bathing (for the second time) I sat down to meditate (for the second time). I was in around 15 minutes, and was possibly at the height, when my son, barged in. In my experience, dogs are incapable of subtlety, in their physical interaction with the world. Emotionally, I see them quite like us. My kids are the only beings who can barge in and disturb whenever they desire, I do not allow parents, phones, friends, anything, to disturb me when I am working, unless of course I Want to be disturbed. He came in, jumped up on my bed, and sat there staring at me with those dopey brown eyes. I smiled. So much for the meditation, but I didn’t want to Do anything just then, so I jumped into bed too, and held him, stroking his soft fur, still sort of meditating (I cannot snap in or out of that space), listening to the sounds, watching the objects in my room, as if they belonged to a stranger. Everything connected to a human being, who was this human being, what gave me away, what didn’t, for instance, could a stranger have said if this was a man’s room or a woman’s. There was a narrow bed, covered in a blue bedspread, a blue sofa, blue and red curtains, a fridge, a drum set covered in dust, a plant, a silly looking ashtray (I don’t smoke, I don’t know where I got that from), a figurine my mom had bought me from Rajasthan, a brown rug, I couldn’t tell. Then I let go of the game and paid attention to the sounds outside and inside the room, the fan, the bird chatter, my son’s breathing, my daughter’s little sigh from under the bed, the overall sensation of sound and sighed.

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