its time to move again. not yet, right away. and not for good. but soon, for the time being.

5 yrs in this place and I'm yet not itching to, dying to, run? it is a sort of a wonder. but I do hate growing roots, that shackle you to the ground. and to the same people. while with more and more time spent nitpicking their faults, makes their novelty to you change to loathing, and then makes the loathing grow.

so then maybe its right, at least for us mortal beings. those who are known and will be remembered by only those they came in contact with, if at all. maybe its right, that for us, who have no larger impact on this world; transcendence is to tug with each other into deeper meanings: physical, political, social, supernatural, metaphysical, critical. with some minimum engagement, enjoyment, trust, honesty and commitment. to a conversation.

that's when you allow those tendrils of roots to grow. entangling with people, with locations, and situations.

au revoir

addiction and binge watching

in the old days, when all you had for eye entertainment was the cinema or the random movie on the tv, one sat down to it prepared. to give time. and therefore, it came as an event to break the routine of one's life. cos, not every Sunday movie on doordarshan was worth the patience or the sacrifice of homework/bed time. then came vcr, and then dvd. and one felt 'cool'er, being able to bring home a movie. being able to choose which oldie one wanted to watch on which weekend, and which pirated running movie one could steal in one's livingroom. but it was still a slight bit of an occasion. with friends and family gathered around. while the big screen lived on, but became more of an outing. more about the popcorn and comfortable seats, and the atmosphere. and conversation.

while all this while, for me at least, sitcoms, tv series, etc. were beneath my time. because those needed regular time-allegiance. and waiting. and giving in to both of those demands meant accepting the addiction. which almost seemed like an insult, given what it required and what it gave back, in disappointing return.

and then netflix happened. watching half a movie a meal, became common for me. and maybe for other single adults living alone. and it opened up the world of movies. from north korea, to japan, to bengal, to algeria, to chile, to .... , from indies to documentaries. and then, came coming around to even the sitcoms, and tv drama series. and that last one, started all this binge watching.

its hardcore addiction, to the drama of the lives of the characters who keep cheating, lying, crying, killing, failing, struggling, dying. and netflix removed that barrier of waiting when one episode ends, and before the next begins. and it removed also, the need to devote a particular weekly/daily date for the drama. now while you saw the credits and listened to the music of an ending episode, the next would threateningly (secretly welcomed) flash in the bottom corner as coming on in the next 10,9,8,7, ... seconds. and one realized, one might as well click on it than pretend that it came up on its own, against one's will.

and some people still reserved this kind of binge-ing for holidays, or weekends, but to me it was never precious enough for holiday time. so it spilled onto weeknights, when half an hour between dinner and spouse's phone-call would anyway not be productive any other way. or the other half hour between phone-call and bed would anyway go away just recollecting where I left off on that last proof in that paper's appendix. and that's how it came about, me watching season 6 of Mad Men in 5 days flat. after having waited months because season 5 left off with pathetic Draper getting back to his addiction of sleeping with others' wives.

and all of season 6 I chafed myself for having been taken in because of the brilliant actors, into this wretched drama of pitiful people. and don't get me wrong, I was addicted yes. but I still knew it wasn't worth it. and so the season began, one episode a day, at the end of each - me wondering what I ever saw in it; and having to watch some comedy after, to clear the bad taste in my mind's mouth. but the last three days, the consumer in me behaved differently. and this is not the first drama that brings that consumer out. I knew this was the last season, and that the drama would then end, either for sure, or for me at least for now. so I clicked on that 'next episode playing' a little too easily, a little less pretentiously. with hope now of ending this trauma for myself, for once and for all. of watching Draper die (in the real sense or at least out of character - no spoiler alerts here, this is just what I was expecting, having been so disgusted with him) and only crossing fingers to uphold Peggy, so as to leave her in my memory as the one reason worth the while for having given in to 6 seasons of this.

and yes today morning I feel free. if addiction brings guilt along with it, and if fight is difficult, I've found my easier way out. to give in, to die with it, and emerge out afresh from the embers of the pyre. it works till I start watching some Indian drama series, possibly the Mahabharata. cos who knows if those ever end.