Each time I begin writing, I can only trace my memory to recall the last new thing I saw or did. Over the years, through different times and situations, I have found myself in awe of what I have never experienced. This need to see the unknown and learn or do something new has in a subtle manner and seemingly permanently, slithered into my daily routine – so much, that having the same routine outside of work also bothers me sometimes. It is so addictive that on days when I am unable to try a new flavour of gum or couldn’t consciously take a different path to work or forgot to look at a different house’s fencing system – or when I just did not notice my day’s ‘new thing’, I feel disappointed. I thrive on the novel.
Every day I come back from office and attempt to do some poetry, or draw a new letter, gain a new skill, or practice a new aalaap for my Hindustani Music lessons. On really bad days, I try to do all four. The gratification is unparalleled. But the quest is exhausting. Every moment of my existence is spent in this exhausting quest to find a different experience, to find answers to the innumerable questions I have, and it is wonderful! What really worries me though, is that my list of skills keeps increasing but the time I have to do all those things in a day remains the same. Right now I can equally focus my energy on everything new I have picked up. But what happens when there are more things to do and even lesser time.