I feel like it is the season of pain. Does anyone else feel that way in autumn and winter? This past week, my emotional afflictions were more or less taken over by intense physical pain in my upper back. I swear no matter how much I try to sit up straight, my shoulders seem to have permanently rotated. My neck felt stiff as a rock and sent shooting pain up my spine every time I turned it, especially to the right. I tried doing some restorative yoga, the usual cat-cow and other stretches to relieve some of the tension but it didn’t help much. I just wished someone would give me a massage. But who? There is no one. I had spent a fair amount of money on a massage last week and the week before that already so I didn’t dare book another one after receiving a well-deserved lecture on frugality from my mother, considering I don’t have a job at the moment.
What is it about pain that renders us absolutely useless sometimes? You have things to do but the pain receptors are constantly at it, working day and night shifts, never resting for a moment. In moments you manage to block them out and somehow distract yourself, they are still there, running in the background like the multiple apps you forget to close on your phone, sucking up all your battery. No wonder I couldn’t write all week. Believe me, I tried. I had promised a friend to write a piece on one my favourite artists for an art magazine she curates. Have you ever felt an inexplicable connection with someone — someone you’ve never met and perhaps cannot either since they are long dead? I feel that with Sadequain — one of the most original and unusual artists of South Asia from the 20th century. I am in utter awe of the way his mind worked. Why don’t many people know about him outside Pakistan? I wanted to remedy that with my piece. I failed.
Don’t get me wrong, I wrote the whole damn thing. And then binned it. I apologised to my friend and I hope she forgives me but I simply couldn’t send what I had written. It would have been an insurmountable disservice to the great maestro and the magazine. I just couldn’t put down my thoughts and feelings about him and his other-worldly art, even though I feel so strongly. May be I’m not an art writer, I told my friend in the apology message I sent her. Yeah, may be I am one of those people for whom art evokes a myriad of complex emotions their mind simply cannot process into words. Whatever it is, I tried fighting it all week and then surrendered. I have never felt so good quitting. Try it sometime. It feels bad for a few minutes or seconds if you’re lucky and then it just feels like a huge rock has been lifted off your shoulders. I felt it, it was completely corporal.
I had originally planned to write about something else this week but the pain and the massive weight of writing this piece on my shoulders just wouldn’t let me. I kept hoping to finish writing about my spiritual affair with the artist and then get to the newsletter. It's Sunday already and I’m one-quarter asleep at 2:34 am writing this because I just couldn’t put it off… to the next day, again, as I had been all week. I know I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I hadn’t written. To be honest, I love that. I love the fact that I need to write here in order to get a good night’s sleep. It’s almost become an essential bodily need. Eat, drink, write, sleep.
So here I am, snuggled in my favourite hot pink and midnight blue fleece blanket with flecks of yellow that remind me of fireflies, typing away and I haven’t felt better all week. Some things that have been helping me get through this season of pain:
Ostruce Enhanced Ostrich Oil for aches & pains. Unfortunately, this is only available in Pakistan but the closest thing I found for pain relief is wintergreen oil, also an ingredient that features in this magical elixir. I have been massaging my shoulders and neck with it for a few days now, despite my mother’s insistence I take pain medication, and I must say, it helped me not only stand my ground against the excessive usage of western medicine for healing but also gave the poor pain receptors a much-needed break.
Calmsutra. a handwriting yoga stroke practice called the “S-stroke” from a graphologist named Aditi Surana. A friend reminded me that my physical pain could very well be the manifestation of my emotional afflictions and was kind enough to share this resource with me to relax the mind as well as the body. Thank you, M!
Modern Love Mumbai. I am a huge fan of the Modern Love column in New York Times and I’ve watched every episode of the original series. Both seasons. The one with Anne Hathaway in it, more than twice. So I was really excited when I saw that it was being adapted into something more closer to home. When it came out a few months ago, my ex watched the first episode without me and declared that it was a waste of time — same old overacted Bollywood crap. I took his word for it and didn’t watch it until I stumbled over a reel by The Swaddle on the first episode of the show, Raat Rani. It’s about a woman who learns to be independent and happy after her husband leaves her. The irony of it all baffles me.
Until next week…
With all my love,
M
P.S. Please share any thoughts on how to deal with physical pain, if you have any. I’d love to read them!