Sunday, May 27, 2001		Article

Intricacies of making lists
Mohinder Singh

I happen to be a listmaker. And like all listmakers, I enjoy drawing lines through items that get completed. The items that I finish to my satisfaction I draw a straight line through. Items that stayed incomplete or got abandoned I mark with a wavy line.

Listmakers without exception occasionally accomplish some task which they never planned to do, and which they never put on a list; listmakers write the item down, in order to feel the satisfaction of crossing it out.

There are all sorts of listmakers: Makers of daily lists, weekly lists, monthly lists, and lists of things to do in years ahead.

Listmakers commonly scrutinise the daily list before retiring for the night. I follow a differing pattern; going through yesterday’s list first thing in the morning at my desk. And then drawing up a fresh list for the day.

Mind, this daily list is separate from the official engagement diary. Some items like meetings may figure in both but the daily list is more intimate, a more personal document — a loose sheet of paper that’s normally destroyed as a fresh one is made.

Strangely enough, this daily list didn’t shrink in times when I had postings with little work or few personal matters to attend to; I would just put in items of inconsequential nature to pad up the list. Even mention things like playing golf in the morning, when this was the usual routine and needed no reminding. Maybe, I was fooling myself with a feeling of the "false hustle". And when I was really busy with official work, I followed the convention of complaining about work, and complaining is usually bragging.

There is always an item or two on the daily list which keeps on figuring from day to day; a hardy item failing to lend itself to a quick finale. Once, a former tenant owed me some money. I would list the item everyday — often at the top of the list — but that worthy appeared in no hurry to pay up despite reminders. Of course, it would have given me much satisfaction to draw a straight line through that item. Perhaps I should have transferred it to the monthly list.

There are days, there are days.

The best day beckons you joyously to work. "Absorbedness" occupies you from head to foot. Hours pass along unnoticed. The best day is real; it has power and energy. You do a day of hard, successful work; several items in the daily list stand crossed out straight. And you look forward to a relaxed evening, a drink, your favourite sport on TV — at the same time attending to little things, such as clipping your nails or trimming nasal hair.

One’s worst day is apathy and depression, when you see no reason to get out of bed or you lie reading the cracks in the ceiling. You work desultorily, and end the day with quite a few wavy lines on the daily list.