It’s been an introspective year, with many, many changes. Not the hop-from-one-job-back-into-another or hop-from-one-department-into-another sort of changes that my life has been centred around the last few years.
I’m now in a new country, which is why I haven’t posted anything decent in a long time. Then again, I’m not sure any of this was decent. And for a change I don’t mean this in a self-deprecating way.
If I had to pick a word to describe 2011, it might be “discomfort”. Not in the gastric or throbbing head sort of way. But for a person who isn’t comfortable moving away from stability and comfort, I’ve done a lot of changing this year. Much arguing with the voices in my head, tussles with logic against emotion, reasoning things out, trying to be patient with others and myself, and I must admit, a lot of fucking growth.
The first few months of the year were boring, normal and I thought it was all going well. Then I did something horrific, which made a very good friend’s life hell for a while. He was nice enough to forgive me, and sometimes I still am unforgiving towards myself (but what’s new) but at least I know not to get too cocky now.
Many rules have been broken. A year or two ago, if I’d broken one of my commandments, well, *gasp*, *shock* and all that. I’ve been amused to step outside myself and watch in moments. Some changes haven’t gone down well with the people I love most either, which has been very hard. Hence the tussles with the voices in my head and whatnot. I can’t say all is well, but I know I’ll figure it out at some point.
Uncomfortable, yes. And a year of extremes – extreme lows because I have been disappointed in myself a couple of times, or in people whom I value the most because I’ve seen new colours in them, but also A NEW COUNTRY. For God’s sake. It’s hellishly cold, but I’ve been told I’m handling it decently for someone in the tropics, one who is used to antibiotics at that.
A friend gifted me a diary this year, one which asks you a different question each day, for the whole year. The supremely exciting part is that it leaves space for five different years so maybe I can actually see the growth next year, or some memories at least. I’ve made some very happy memories this year, maybe because it feels like I fought for them.
One question I found a couple of days back was “when was the last time you were truly happy” and my first thought was, ‘whoa, not for ages’. I thought again and I realised I’m happy everytime I walk on a bridge near my house. No matter how rushed I am or how grey the clouds are, or how different from home, it makes me happy. A person who has negativity flowing through her blood.
It’s been a strange year. I don’t know what to make of it. I’ve had some miserable moments – pining for warm sambar/rasam, idli, my dog’s fur, a friend’s hug, the mother’s TLC when I was ill – but I’m actually very happy as well.
Strangely, I am more myself here than I was at home before I left. There was some turmoil and disapproval, many complicated things running around in my head for a while before I left, while I was trying to keep a dozen people happy and answer all their questions. Though I was happy through that too. (I know, you’re thinking “curiouser and curiouser”.) Eccentric, wonderful friends, independence, doing things for myself on my own much to my mother’s joy I’m sure... if I had a couple of the age-old friends over, the dog and the mother, and plenty of south Indian food, I’d be set forever. Oh yes, and my car. Though walking around here can be lovely when the wind is not blowing a hole in your brain or freezing your nose and digits off.
I’m not sure what I want from 2012. Answers. Many of them. Sometimes I dread returning because I know I have to handle things like a job, a cranky boss, wondering what to do about a boy, handling a mother who misses me, and such mundane things.
I suppose I could do without idli-sambar/Labrador/mother for a while more if it means not having any responsibilities beyond looking after myself. If it were only that easy.
Then again, ease didn’t make great artists I suppose. So no wonder being so uncomfortable and in such alien territory (in more ways than you can imagine) is leading to many growth spurts. And me surprising myself time and time again. In a good way.
Hopefully 2012 will not herald the end of the world as we know it. Sure there’ll be death, there always is – of some habits, some relationships, some people – but that happens all the time. I just hope no more polar bears die (no, seriously, that’s awful). Sometimes I wish I could tell the people I love, listen, there are polar bears dying, relax about the INR dropping or you not getting enough sex or having a bad boss, at least we won’t starve to death or have to eat a furry cute cub. Uhm. I assume that would not go down well. Especially with the mother.
Anyhow, here’s to a good year – I use a shadowy word on purpose because I’m not even sure of what exactly I want because I don’t know which voice in my head to trust sometimes. I wonder when they will come to a compromise. If there is discomfort for any of us, let there be plenty of alcohol and sex all around, but less babies. We’re emitting enough carbon as it is. *chinks glass of mulled wine*. Happy 2012 and end of the world, everyone! Don’t worry, I’m sure the Mayans just ran out of leaves or stones to draw calendars on.
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