The Internet Personified: The Fear List
all the things she said running through my head, running through my head
Happy New Year—it still counts until we reach January 15th right? I hope you had a good start to the new year, or at least a feeling of something new. It’s so dull to wake up January 2nd and realise it’s the same ol, same ol that you just left behind mid-December only to return to it all again, like old food warmed up.
I had some new things going on—a language course again, a midway point of my new novel (that I’m writing), several other new-to-me novels (that I’m reading)—but mostly these are habits I started in December so I could have a full day of work (8.30 am wake up time now, which may seem ridiculously late to some of you, and very early to others) before I have to schlep off to the Volkshochschule (People’s High School or community college known colloquially here as VHS) in Kreuzberg, a good 40 minute commute each way. (There’s a VHS only about seven minutes down the road from me, but as all German government subsidised things, each VHS has its own waiting list and bureaucracies and so you go where you get space.) (The reason I have to go here instead of a private school is that it’s a requirement to keep my residence permit and so the government subsidises half the fees IF I finish level B1 in two years. The course includes language and also “integration” which is learning about the German government and so on. A lot of effort to be a good guest.) (The teachers are not great compared to the private school I previously attended so if you’re in Germany and looking for a language class that you have to pay for yourself, I’d suggest the slight upgrade—maybe 50 euros more?—to a good school because the teachers make all the difference. My personal favourite is Transmitter in Kreuzberg, the teachers there were amazing and everyone was so friendly, but actually it’s the only one I’ve tried so what do I know.)
The weather’s been adding to my general lack of non-German-learning productivity too, snowy and cold, but like bad snow, sleety and wet and turning the ground not into a winter wonderland but slushy with mud and ice. It’s pretty to look at from your heated room but far less pretty when you’re outside and the snow is literally falling sideways from the sky into your eyes and your normally waterproof boots have managed to leak and so you’re walking around with wet socks which lead to the rest of you feeling like you’re wearing just a tiny slip instead of all the clothes you own. Add getting your period and carrying a heavy bag and the U-Bahns being too full to sit down and you might sympathise with my need today to just watch TV and read and snooze. Actually, the person I need absolution from is myself, I know you guys are nice but my inner voice is a hard taskmaster and is always like, “Really? This is how you’re working on your next book? Don’t you have some foolishly unrealistic internal deadline you need to keep to or else become known as a failure forever?”
Heyyy, a really good segue for a change instead of me just awkwardly leading you by the hand to where I want you to go. Right. So, before we moved here, I was obviously beset by fears. I mean, I’d never lived outside India, my most adventurous move was a year spent going in and out of Goa. I was terrified by the decision as the month to move grew closer, and I second-guessed myself constantly. Like: was I mad? Here I was, nearly 40, with a nice life, good friends, beautiful house, an actual reputation as a writer etc etc and I wanted to chuck it all and leave it for what? Some sort of change? What good was change, I asked myself, are you only doing this because you’re bored? But you might be bored someplace else and less comfortable besides.
K finally had enough of it suggested that I write down all my fears into a list. Seeing them written down, he said, would make them easier to confront than them just growing large nameless shapes in my head. He’s quite smart sometimes. It’s often the same thing that happens to me in therapy when I talk and talk about something that’s bothering me and when I re-encounter the situation, lo and behold, I have exorcised it. Anyway, I wrote them down and left for Berlin and forgot completely that I had made a Fear List because I was having such a good time until a couple of days ago when I was rooting round my old documents to see if there was anything I could polish up and send you. “List of fears.docx” did not ring any bells so I opened it, and what do you know? Nothing I thought would come to pass actually did. So I thought it might be fun to go through them here, and maybe if you’re facing something huge and life-changing it might help you to write down your demons and put them in a little box only to open them a few years later and see how differently things turned out.
Why I’m Scared Of Living In Berlin
expensive. Not rich now, so in future will be poor. Where holiday? No holiday because no money. How to go to dentist? Or cat vet? No money. How to have any luxuries? Can't.
Well—yeah. Germany is obviously much more expensive than India. But you know, I feel like in many ways I’m actually leading a richer life? Wine and beer for eg are waaaay cheaper in Berlin than in Delhi, so I’ve already got that beat. The dentist? Covered (mostly) by health insurance. Cat vets are ridiculously expensive compared to my beloved Dr Amit in Delhi but y’know, you do what you’ve gotta do. And my neighbour just pointed me towards a vet service that comes home and doesn’t charge any (extra) money for the house call. As for luxuries, back in Delhi, I shopped all the time. Downtime was spent scrolling through fashion apps, adding things to cart and then waiting for them with excitement. Every time I read about something (usually under Rs 1000) I ordered it instantly off Amazon. You guys, it was like a sickness. Our doorbell was constantly ringing with packages. It was an amazing way to get a little endorphine hit. Obviously there are little luxuries one wants in one’s life, but being here and things being more expensive makes you think about them in a different way: do I need it? Can I get it second-hand? Let me go to the shop and look at it and so on. And I lack for nothing, so much so that when I have a birthday I have to think very hard about the things I would like as a present, so you see, it’s worked out.
no house. House in delhi beautiful, big, my specifications. All my books. My life. House in berlin will have none of these things.
I do miss our lovely Delhi flat with our gorgeous terrace garden and all that space, but I’ve grown fond of our Berlin flat, anonymous though it is. The walls are beginning to be filled with art, we have a few plants, and comfortable furniture. The kitchen is large—which is a delight because I spend so much time in it, and while the flat is not beautiful, it feels homey, which is always nice. My books I still long for sometimes, but I’m working on building up a collection here and that is a fun new thing.
what will i eat? Constantly will have to cook. How to find indian food? Expensive.
Hah, if only I’d known what a joy cooking would turn out to be. I replicate most Indian food I miss at home, and we’ve recently taken to cooking a lot of Chinese. The stores are stocked with most of the stuff I need, my “exotic” spices I bring with me from India but I don’t need to because there is a sweet Asian shop next door and a large Indian one a few blocks away. In fact, both K and I like cooking so much we actually have to be fair about it and take turns with this task.
will never learn german.
“How come your German is so good?” a classmate asked me the other day and I laughed and said I practised a lot at home. I still see the language as hard and stretching in front of me but there is so much behind me as well. I know enough to make small talk and read most signs, and understand about 60% of what people say to me—if they speak slowly and enunciate enough. I’m still shy about speaking (I’m so slow! I want a perfect sentence!) but I’ve come so far! Actually, she says, showing off a little, I could’ve gone into a level higher than the one I’m in right now (they test you at the VHS), but I wanted to practise some more basic grammar and as a result I’m frequently bored in class because I might be slightly ahead of them. And all this thanks to a) talking nonsense to K in German b) reading all the ads and street signs and sounding them out inside my head c) using German subtitles for my TV shows and d) trying to eavesdrop on conversations around me. Oh and also some Duolingo for the vocabulary training. I thought I had about 200 words, K thinks it’s closer to 2000.
will be very cold.
Ya, it’s damn cold, what can I say? I might be getting the hang of winter, but you never fully get used to it, it’s like a punishment. Inside spaces are warm, outside spaces are bitter, even if you dress warmly sometimes the polar winds just go through all your layers, and my face is like ice and my nose is all red like an old alcoholic. Since I like to make the best of things however, I consider this time my most uninterrupted reading time, and for that, winter, with its no plans and cold outside is a lovely time of year to get creative both in your consumption and your outputs. I just bought some books to teach myself how to draw and also some fabric markers which I’m practising with so I can make poetry t-shirts, just run around with Mary Oliver branding. Tomorrow, I will brave the cold for the library where I’ve put in a hold request for Stone Yard Devotional which is waiting for me. K also got me a DVD player for Christmas as the library has several for loan, and so I’ll pick up some films with my books and know that no one wants to hang out and I have uninterrupted evenings. It gets lonely, but it’s also a good lonely if you like solitude.
racism
Not yet, but I know they’re out there so I have an eye out. Who knows what the world will look like by this time next year? Everything is already so fucked.
no friends
Done, and done. Again, not easy, but like learning German a process. I was happy to exercise my friend-making muscles once more, it’s like riding a bicycle, you never truly forget. Because I work from home, this was a bit more challenging for me, but the two things I did to great success were 1) never rejecting an invitation unless sick or tired and 2) being the first to reach out instead of having stupid pride about it.
how will i publicise my books if i'm not in india? Everyone will forget me
Indian publishing is also a little fucked and the days of book launches and massive press etc etc are far behind us. I publicised my last book online as best as I could, the same way I would’ve in India. As for being forgotten, I’ve (almost) made my peace with it. You write the books you write and you hope they find readers, but in the end, I think of my job as the actual creating of the books not all the work that goes into selling them and I think this is the problem. I’m outdated in that regard. I should be selling them constantly, but I feel tired and done when I’m done so I just expect people to hear about them with not much work on my part because doing the work is kind of thankless as well. I’m working on this—doing the less enjoyable stuff (selling, editing) with the more enjoyable stuff (writing) and hopefully that’ll make a difference to my next, but here, since I’m mentioning my books, is my Goodreads page, ignore the bad ratings for You Are Here, people had feelings about it, and so it looks bad, but really it’s a cult classic even if I do (and I have to) say so myself. (The 10 year anniversary edition is gorgeous and includes a foreword.) I know I owe at least one reader a book shipped to the UK and I’m doinggg ittt, it’s just that I haven’t had much time but I’m doing it, I promise. Also I suppose I should mention I’ll be in India March to April so if you want me for your lit fest or whatever, I would be delighted to attend.
This is a good place to stop and add a little button:
And another one, quoting Coldplay: nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this haa-aard, but leave a comment and we can chat together cozily about things that scared us once but don’t any more.
Uff how many buttons? One last one, to remind you that I live, as ever, for your support so buy me a coffee!
Gotta go, watching a (potentially bad) play because the Abundo app (which I wrote about here) has slim pickings in January.
Have a great week!
xx
m
Who are you? Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan, writer of internet words (and other things) author of eight books (support me by buying a book!) and general city-potter-er.
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Forward to your friends if you liked this and to the fears you haven’t written down so can’t conquer yet if you didn’t.
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