31

If i had to find a theme for my year gone by, i'd call it the "year of trials and tribulations" .

I can't say it was good or bad, but one thing that stands out is the fights i have had.The fights with the world, with the family, with friends and with myself.

The fights of ideology, of long drawn debates, of the rights and wrongs.

The turbulence of shifting my home ground and creating a new home and hearth. The year of living away from my parents and developing small fears that haven't let me sleep nights. Of waking up thinking about my parents , my brothers and my beautiful small sister and not knowing what to do. Of staring at blank walls and seeing my life on it running on flashback.

The checks and balances of building a new relationship. The grinding of two opposites, the friction and attraction.

The cutting of my umbilical chord with my first place of work, my people , my karmbhoomi. And the wild fern trying to find a base in the manicured lawns of mumbai. Of breaking loose from a short stint at an NGO that was exactly opposite of what i knew and believed and then trying to fit in in another place. With unlearning my lessons and relearning. With changing my perspectives and getting a new perspective. Of trying to throw it all away and finding something even in throwing away.Of finding another karmbhoomi that i feel i can make a difference in and finding people who fight with me, argue with me, and still hold me when i falter taking my baby steps.

Of losing those friends and promising never to make friends again but falling into the trap of open smiles, dimples and soul-warming hugs..Of realising, it's never too sure with people and yet never too late to start trusting.

Of  losing a first life we created, even without realising we had created. Of not knowing how to react. Of hoping and losing hope.

The year of lonely nights, of tears shed. The year of confusion. The year of love. The year laughter of a new kind. The year of realising that you can win fights and arguments but still end up losing something much more important. The year of realising that it's sometimes better to be silent. The year of understanding that you are precious but not more than a lot more things. A year of realising that my life is based on little things, the small dreams. Of realising i do not want to win arguments anymore.

The year of realising that i've lived a life of the old woman long enough. It's probably time to live again.