Nothing Good Happens After Two A.M.

Or so Ted admonishes his children in How I Met Your Mother, “Just go home. Go to bed.”

For me, that was part of the problem. I was home, and in bed. But my brain was still incessantly processing, ferociously trying to sort out my new reality. I’ve learned that the only way to calm my overactive brain is to let talk until it has nothing more to say. At least then it is out in the air for the universe to help with. The topics covered in those first few nights included all of the big ones and few of the small ones: What am I doing here? What does it mean for something to be important? Meaningful? Successful? Will I ever fall asleep? Why do I even care if those pants are silly? (Thinking about that orange and pink kurta that I didn’t buy because I thought I might accidently continue to dress like a 15 year old; maybe I just have the fashion tastes of a mid adolescent…).

Being that I was the only one awake in the flat, I wrote in my journal until I couldn’t listen to myself anymore. Then I turned to writing some of you. My apologies to anyone who was uncomfortable receiving a slightly intense email sometime in your early afternoon. They were the honest words of a lonely, fatigued and bewildered person. It was after two a.m., so perhaps a little too honest.

But today was a different. Though I did see the 4 am sky, I slept for a total of 8 beautiful hours. Its amazing what sleep can do. I realized, too, how oddly nice it had become to experience the predawn city, quiet as it often is not, to watch the cycle of the rains, barking dogs, and noisy birds. A bonafide, lime green parrot landed on the wires outside my window and HUGE bats circled the trees below. A good omen, Shipli tells me, good for a day of adventure.

I moved basically from the southern most tip of the city to the northern most—from the Arabian Sea crashing outside my window to being able to see mountains. I loved the long drive and got to see much more of the city. Slums rose and fell in between high rise apartments and business complexes. The presence of so many dogs and cows may be cliche, but there's a good reason: it's the truth. My new neighborhood (Dahisar West for anyone Mumbai savy) is in the suburbs, has a great deal more space around the buildings and is bit greener—partly why Shilpi picked it.

Shilpi. This woman is the cat’s meow. Poonam introduced me to this brilliant and spunky young editor who also works at the Hindustan Times. She’s recently married and only moved to Mumbai herself 7 months ago. She has the most endearing sense of humor and is teaching me how to eat more healthily (water after meals, not during and same with talking—all better for digestion). I couldn’t believe it when I walked into her flat—decorated with the orange and pink of the kurta I didn’t buy! I should have realized how much I love the combination—I mean, my suitcase and backpack do match the upholstery perfectly. I feel so at home with her, it feels like we were meant to live together. Unfortunately, we may not see that much of each other because of her crazy hours, so Saturdays will be special. She even included me in the Saturday tradition of having my hair oiled, just like her grandmother used to do to her and her sisters.

So far the people I have been privileged to spend time with have been incredible. They remind me of my close friends and family in their warmth and unending generosity. Shilpi reprimanded me today for saying “thank you” too many times, but how else do I say it? I am overwhelmed by her care. They won’t even let me help out around the house to show my appreciation, so I’m at a loss. I think what Poonam was trying to say this morning was that my happiness and enjoyment of their company is thanks enough (after the first couple times). If that is the case, then I am the very picture of gratitude.

applying coconut oil!

In the end, I tackled some significant personal demons in those restless hours. Time alone in a starkly different environment pushes you to do that—the strength for which I usually feel I lack. Some good things do happen after two a.m.