End of the Year...

I am writing this under the effect of one of my favorite writer’s short story, titled, ‘Year's End', from her short story collection, ‘Unaccustomed Earth’. I could go on reading Jhumpa Lahiri tirelessly, getting lost in the myriad labyrinth of emotions evoked through her easily relatable characters. The wretched social media comes in the way every now and then though, and distracts me to a point that I sometimes need to re-read a whole passage. But I have made peace with that too, as long as I get some time to read and not doze off during this elusive ‘me-time’ I so dearly crave.

There is something about the quiet elegance of these stories like that of the author’s face alongside the blurbs on the back of her book covers that lingers on long after the pages have been turned and you realize it is time to call it a day. Only that lately, when I say call it a day, I mean hit the bed in a zombie-like state and sleep for straight 7 hours, well that, if I am not woken up by a fidgety toddler for some formula milk or just  a little cuddle if not anything else. This is often followed by demands for vigorous back rubbing while I direct fervent prayers above for her to fall asleep at the earliest. But today, I decided to stray from this routine a little bit. Peanut is fast asleep next to me, and instead of crashing down right away, I decided to make an exception of scribbling down my thoughts, fully aware that before I reach half way, my eyes would screech and give up on me, and words would start to evaporate.  But one cannot ignore Madam Lahiri’s calls of inspiration, can one? Especially when it is propelled by a deep sense of guilt of absolute non-productivity over this space. So excuse me just for today if I take long drawls, take my own sweet time to unfold the mysteries of my mood and the workings of my mind and a wee bit of this and a big gulp of that and yet, arrive nowhere!

Going back to the aforementioned story, though it is titled as ‘Year's End', it takes a course of its own that does not necessarily tick the boxes relating to the exuberance and the merry making that happen around the end of each year. Yet probably we expect the unexpected in this case given Jhumpa’s flair to turn the trite to something cleverly bright! But we shall do the singing pean for the author on some other occasion. For now, let me do what this title typically suggests - reflect upon the year gone by and the one that is yet to completely unveil itself.

Standing at the crux of 2017, I cannot help but take a moment to look at how 2016 had been for me, for us, as a family, and the possibilities that 2017 holds. End of the year does that to everyone I would assume, for it is that time when we wrap up the past and straddle up our boots for the new, the unseen, the unpredictable. This time of the year is often marked by hope and excitement, dreams are renewed, and we find ourselves in anticipation of good things to happen to us, almost a desperate attempt to cast the shadow of the past away. I missed doing this indulgent philosophizing while getting busy doing the rounds of the holiday homes of the likes of Ricky Martin, Puff Daddy, David Beckham etc. over a river cruise in Miami. Pictures of which have already been unabashedly shared on social media and anecdotes on how significantly broke and worthless I have felt thereafter have been generously peppered over my chit-chats over WhatsApp with my chums. Well, that, for some other time, for now let’s just stick to the little resolves we have made to ourselves to stay positive, shall we?

Hmmm. Now let me see. 2016 eh? In a nutshell, 2016 had been ‘eventful.’ Lesser said is better. Bummer? All that grandiose for this? You would also think that I must have probably said the same thing the last year, and the year before that, but you would be heartened to know that it’s not quite the case, atleast not entirely so. The year before, that is 2015, I conceived our baby, towards the beginning of the second half of the year, she was born. So therefore, you get that, eventful would have been an understatement. It changed our lives forever! O well, another cliché’! But it did! From a couple (for a bit too long we have been told), we became a family. Our lives revolved around her – raising, caring and rearing her. Had it not been for the typical social media euphoria around the end of a year and beginning of yet another, we would have simply slept it through like any other tired late nights after tending to baby chores.

Come 2016, and husband inches towards graduating, meeting cruel project deadlines, prepping up for presentations, late night group discussions, and the usual midnight ‘bhai’ calls to fellow batch mates to vent out frustration relating sometimes this, sometimes that, thankfully all grad-school related whining to my credit. Not quite sure what happens when I am not sticking my ears while he is at it though. I do not know about him, but on the day of his commencement, I was beaming with happiness and pride and respect for this man who did it, despite the odds, despite everything! ‘We’ did it! We did it anyway! Graduation done! MBA. Check. Chapter close. Eventful? I would think.

Now came the job hunting part, there was clearly no time to amble about and cursory peeking into job portals anymore. You realize this is where the real game begins, as we were cautioned by well-meaning friends who were well aware of the challenges of starting off afresh after having left behind lucrative jobs. Through many lows and few highs, with numerous doubts and heavy sighs (that even rhymed!), we found ourselves sailing to another port yet again for newer ventures. It was finally and eventually time to say goodbye to beloved Buffalo, the city that adorned the partner with another degree and gifted us a baby to tow along.

We took an early morning flight to the new location we were going to call home, and when we arrived at our destination, we were greeted by the refreshing topical trees and the glorious landscape of Tampa, Florida! A far cry from the already dark and dreary winter afternoons of Buffalo. I held back saying I am in love with this place at the very first sight because I wanted to remain loyal to Buffalo for as long as I could, and as long as the devastatingly scenic beaches would turn me into an infidel soon. My first thoughts were of how this place hits the right balance between hot and arid Doha and cold and snowy Buffalo. I was elated to find Goa wrapped up in tinsel and presented to me at my footsteps. As we slowly waded through a busy airport to find a cab, we started feeling conscious of our appearance in our puffed up jackets and huffed up boots under a pleasant sun. Unlike previous times, this time we decided to take our own time to make this place home, not sure whether it is age or experience that had brought about this change in our approach and attitude. The home is still a work in progress, and I am making conscious efforts to not rush to the next furniture store I behold, or coax and coax the partner to tell two different shades of lavender apart that I intend to paint a wall with etc. etc.

Soon after this crazy moving of people, followed by moving of stuff (the things we have amassed my God!) happened, we were all zealously waiting for the Election results. Social media anyway would not spare any information relating it, the blaring noise of news reporters from myriad channels would make things worse. But this one time I too was interested to see who America chooses as its next President. After having participated in mindless meme shares and opinion polls relating the next probable president elect, it only made sense to gear up to the big day. Must have been by early hours of the morn when we all got to know the results and what had transpired. A thud, a slap on our faces. The reality hit us so hard that even a forced smile at the numerous jokes that started to surface targeting the elected President became hard to come by. It was not easy to come to terms with what had happened, you know all those jokes that we had been cracking, this time, the joke was on us. My first reaction was of disbelief, then horror, and then slow and gradual accepting of fate, like how it works when the impossible happens and you are not prepared for it. Eventful enough? Well!

We got busy with our lives soon enough, more out of practice than choice, the anxiety and uncertainty of the future never leaving us. While Michelle Obama went hoarse shouting that children and particularly young girls should never lose hope, that, their future is in their hands and so on and so forth. And I found myself slouching on the arm chair and thinking how big this word ‘hope’ really is!

Bam! The holidays! America found a temporary reason to smile, and so did we. The beginning of the month of December marks the husband’s birthday, who was last seen excited about this day was when he was 4, or 6 may be. He underplays his birthday like he is competing with Irrfan khan for the National Award for understated acting and subtle reaction to milestones or some such elitist approach to important fluff...I mean...stuff. Whereas to me, at least till our daughter was born, I always made sure my birthday was a big deal. So keeping with the tradition of no overt celebration and paying homage to the art of self-control etc., we decided to simply order in food and drinks, which also suited our toddler very much. Cake? No, thank you very much. 

Now no prizes for guessing what came next. Christmas! Ofcourse!! Beloved Christmas! Oh how I love thee! For no apparent reason, for just because the days that count upto the day of Christmas are the most beautiful days both literally and figuratively. And decking up the tree, ofcourse! The fuzziness in the air, the bon-homie, a happy disposition in everyone’s face, the generous tips, the larger spreads, and the free-flowing merry drinks, the decked-up halls, the shops exploding in glitter and cheer and what not. It temporarily helps you forget the miseries you would have to nurse in the next couple of days again. An escape almost from the rehearsed chores and the patterned lives. But it is the day that follows Christmas, that day probably is the worst day of the holiday season. Because you have momentarily lost the license for merry-making, and the reality of unaccomplished promises made to yourself in the beginning of the year loom large. But like other things, it’s not too hard to ignore this fact too and move on since the New Year’s Eve plans are at hand. You don’t want to be left out alone when the whole world would be posting proofs of how psyched they are about the day’s events and the greater the number of high profile ‘check-ins’ the better! Been there done that. Check. New Year’s Eve done. This time I did not even spare a single thought towards making promises to myself about this and that since experience tells me, about time I grew up and stopped making….yes, the famous word…….‘resolutions.’ Gaaawwwwd! So looks like I am growing up after all, the numerous grey hair on my scalp is testimony to it if nothing else.

 It is the year 2017 that hogs all attention now. I cannot tell you why but I have never been more conscious about the passing of a year and stepping into another like this time. It could be the fact that the third and the new addition in the family is a more developed personality now and hence her presence is a constant reminder of how time is not going to stop and wait for me. And also the realization that these days of my early motherhood and her toddlerhood cannot be frozen in time makes me take deep gulps and sigh heaps. For starters, this year I can handle more surprises and less shocks, even a steady flow of things would be just fine too. I would think that’s not asking for too much, right? In return I can promise to not whine when the tides are sometimes higher than I would expect and not get complacent when lower tides hit my shore. Here’s hoping that this year I surprise myself by meeting my own commitments, so an older version of me can look back and have bigger and greater milestones to keep count of. O and yes, in between all this, may I get to explore new places and meet interesting people to go on adding to my list.  And also, some of those fancy clothes and shoes I keep track of on Instagram may hog my closet space someday. May I finish the reading list on my phone, may Amazon bring down its book prices wee bit, may my waist get back to being jeans-friendly once again and, little hair, just few more strands would be wonderful for my crown, and may my plants not die unceremonious deaths just this one time please….and may the blemishes on my face disappear miraculously and…blah..blah..blabber..blabber..blabber.

But on a more serious note, may this year we find enough strength to voice our opinions, may we be courageous enough to fight our inner demons, may this year be a break-through for women and child safety and protection, may we see less of the brutality and the grotesque in the world that we have gotten used to seeing, may the big players humanize themselves little bit, and may the smallest fish in the pond find the dignity it deserves, may we put health above everything else, and lastly, may this year be the beginnings of many great and wonderful new beginnings for us all.