In another universe, I wake up today in an unfamiliar room, clean, small, and absolutely devoid of character. Rush into a tiny bathroom, shower, put on a formal shirt, crumpled in the suitcase in transit. Slip into a suit, now slightly tight on the midriff, jeans, because I can’t squeeze into the matching trousers any more. Wipe the dust off the shoes with toilet paper, lest I don’t find a shoe polisher in the corridor. Walk down to the dining area for the complimentary breakfast for which I had to pay another 20 euros, smirk at the continental fare of only 5 or 6 dishes, pile myself with bland coffee and stroll out to hunt for the complimentary shuttle to the exhibition venue. And not finding it, or being told that it left, check whether Google Maps is working, and decide to walk down the 1 kilometre from the Ibis Airport to the exhibition hall.
Reaching there, completing the registration, losing my way at least twice by trying to follow their layout map to find my station. Eventually reaching it, giving tight smiles, nods, and hellos to all around, exchanging cards and proceed with light banter, pretending that we are interested in each other’s work. In an hour, bored out of my skull, I head out in search of the complimentary coffee stall, making a wide-eyed pass for both interesting tech and attractive women - not the glamorous props or boss bitches, just someone real. Making a mental note to return and strike up a conversation, though promptly forgetting the stall number or their name. It’s easier to strike up conversations or break ice with women during lunch, especially as it’s included in the pass. The evenings I will get some cheap ready-made stomach filler in the nearby supermarket, to be eaten in the solitude of my room.
Thus, would begin my day at Wind Europe 2026 that starts today in Madrid, where I was scheduled to present a poster and participate in numerous recycling and circular economy sessions. However, in the current universe, the one I am posting from, the plan had to be cancelled. It was a combination of my domestic care-giving responsibilities and the absurd time sink and bureaucratic theatre, required for Schengen visa formalities, not to speak of undergoing the ritual humiliation integral to the process. Something I found utterly unjustifiable for a single 4-day trip. The event is one I was looking forward to participating in for 6 months. I saw it as a major milestone, recognition and a prize for my efforts of the last 4 years: To be an invited participant, not a stall owner paying premium rates for temporary space, not a visitor paying through the nose for entry tickets.
Now all sidelined with a shrug of inevitability and the nonchalance of an Alfred E. Newman like “Why me worry?”
Equally, in another universe, my designed and built bamboo composite rescue boats are ferrying people to safety in the heavily flooded roads of my hometown Guwahati - the consequence of the cloudburst of the last two nights. Where, a spate of “Vikas”-based overpass constructions by the state government, paralysed the city for the last half a decade. Financed by multinational development bank loans and executed primarily for the benefit of politicians and their crony contractors. The same government agencies that confessed that mundane tasks like cleaning and de-silting of drains have not taken place, leading to the current deluge. And where, contrary to the shrill and convenient cries of climate change, the cause for the floods has been the far less glamorous truth of total lack of planning, systematic filling up of bogs and swamps, leaving water with nowhere to go.
The rains of the last few days were really nothing special, though I would confess I have never heard such an unbroken continuity of rolling thunder in the state before. April, or the month of Bohag, had always been traditionally synonymous with “Bordoisila” thunderstorms in Assam.
But once again, in the current universe, my boats are lying in storage, unused and conveniently forgotten by authorities to whom they were offered as a low-cost, eco-friendly, and quickly deployable water rescue solution, especially in an urban flood situation. One is lying in a client’s yard. Two new ones are currently under siege, as the shed that I was using as my workshop is under hostile takeover by the land-grabbing mafia long tussling over the disputed plot.
I consider myself lucky to have been able to remove the bulk of my tools and equipment. They assured me that nobody will touch my stuff, and I am free to transport it out wherever I want to. I am not particularly concerned or hurried either, as since their inception, nobody in the state wanted my boats anyway.
Doubt those hoods will find any use for them either...
Honestly, the sudden toothache that sprang on me this morning is causing far more concern and discomfort. And for one I am glad to be here at home, a few blocks from my dentist, instead of being out there wallowing in misery, stuffed with painkillers and still trying to sound impressive while speaking, one eye half-shut from the pain. Or worse, calling it a day early, and limping to suffer alone in the Ibis cell.
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me
Jaya Guru Deva... Ommmm!!
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Nothing’s gonna change my world…
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