My Om time!

I slept, ate, read, wrote, ate, slept, read again and slept once again. That’s when I woke up to the thought that I actually had time to myself. So why not breathe in and out correctly. In the way it ought to be done.

So I slept, ate, read, ate, slept, read again and slept once again.

What the heck, I’m more stubborn. At last, it succumbed.

So I slept, ate, read, ate, slept, read again and slept once again.

So I slept, ate, read, ate, slept, read again and slept once again.

That’s when I realised I haven’t been cooking nor replenishing supplies since the husband left.
Chopped some fruits, grabbed a book, put up my feet, telling myself, after eating I will meditate. An hour later, I returned to the workable position and chanted the mantra ‘Om!’

Soon, the events of the day began unfolding before my mind’s eye. ‘Let the thoughts come in. Don’t resist,’ I was taught. So I let them invade my private space. Right from the beginning, the moments played with 4D effect…I saw my computer at the workplace booting up as the creeps frantically crawled all over the place dripping glue to stick their arses around, to the traffic that freaked me out, and the cabbie who kept me waiting because he had no change, to the building security who changed the access code of the door, until the knocking knee, the rude back and the fruit bowl with chewed pomegranate seeds… I even heard my mom on the phone and, yes, some Google doodles also featured in my trance. That’s when I shook up in shock, ‘Gosh, what was I searching for? Which deadline was I working on? And I heard the screech…a familiar cry.

These days I’m on a positive drive. No sulking. There’s always a next time, I told myself.

“Meditating!”