It’s That Time of The Year

It is that time of the year when we say, shockingly, surprisingly or sadly, “It’s the year end already!” “How fast time flies!” And I begin to wonder how should I wish the world the start of a new calendar.

I do not understand what time does to us, or is it our brains? I can still remember the first week of 2018, I had a different job and I was performing poetry one cold evening surrounded by my lovely colleagues.

2018 was a year of change, of confusion, and of challenge. It was heart breaking at times, and other times liberating. At times it filled me with despair and other times it made be feel like a warrior. It taught me to plan, and then to let go of the plan when it failed. It was what literary books would call coming of age, at 25 instead of 15, a year when I came face to face with many of my values boiling inside.

It was the year I decided I need to go meditate and I spent 10 days aloof of the world, but so much enriched from within. It was the year I panicked and quarter life crisis was the major topic of discussion, literally everywhere. I bought many books to solve it, just as much as I tried to tie time by crossing off things on the list of life that should have happened, only to realize letting time flow is the most important thing I can do. It was also the year I realized how savvy I am at saving. I should hold on to this more often.

It was also the year I finally joined Toastmasters after 7 years of coming to know about the club(s). The year I socialized so much that the 15 year old me would be shocked.

It was also the year I came across some wonderful people and ideas, and learnt to map my life in ways I could not have imagined.
It was the year I felt more comfortable in my skin.

The year the vastness of the universe terrified me, and the year I became a part of the vastness.

As I spend the last day of 2018, I realize how my spelling and grammar have gotten worse, and I haven’t gotten past one paragraph without a single error as I write this. Auto correct! It’s a sign to write more longhand. Maybe it is time to gather the courage spread across all veins.

2018 was the year I expected to go to grad school, only to realize I have already been enrolled at the School called Life.

Happy 2019!

I Think of Summer

I think of summer
as autumn moves away
opening the doors to winter.

Strong gust of November winds
blow past my shell
ripping apart my safe house
just at the start of the cold.

Summer has ended,
a season gone
but work still remains to be done.

I’ve been lazy
dancing under the sun,
now I’ll shiver and run
at the sight of the beacon,
nature’s sign of change.

I think of summer,
but summer’s gone.
I think of the next summer.

I will always think of summer.

Blue Waters

Time,
is like a river
with strong currents,
and I am a rock
between it.

I wonder if
I will find
pieces of myself
eroded away
through these years
scattered unto
streams and lakes
and finally the ocean.

How will I
ever remember if
a part of me
reaches the
blue waters?

How will I know if
my memory
floats unto the surface
splashed by the
passing ships?

And a piece of me
still remains
where it began,
right at the rivers
waiting to be
carried away time and again.

Of Wishes and Nostalgia

I sometimes think of a piece of rock between the flowing waters, undisturbed and unresponsive of the water currents that pass by it. Just there. Sometimes I think I could be the rock, amidst the flowing time. Just there. Festivities are one of those times I feel most like the rock, like the observer.

These holidays, these festivities are perhaps a break in the flowing waters, like a dam that has been constructed so that the water overflows and remains there for a while, covering everything beneath its level. Instead of currents, there is a lake, a pool, a break from the nature of everyday. A pause to look unto which might have been missed in the everyday current. So much of time has passed, and so much remains to be passed. No fuss, no grandeur, just like that, just everyday stuff.

Nostalgia overcomes me, flows through each of my veins, as I smell the marigolds blooming in the kitchen garden, or the silent roads beyond the balcony of my room, or the half empty skies I haven’t stared at in a while. I know this is a price or the boon of growing up, of knowing something I did not know a decade ago, and of waiting to learn more in the years to come.

As I try to learn, with a tint of fear, to let go of all time that was and embrace what is and what comes, my wish for you, to you the traveller, to you the dreamer, and to you the believer, is that may you find your Why, may you defeat the darkness first inside of yourself and then outside, may you always shine like the sun, who I imagine doesn’t know its purpose, and still continues to shine for a million years to come. May we all, though a little lost we are, learn to carve our directions.

Happiness must happen, writes Viktor E. Frankl in Man’s Search for Meaning. I pray for happiness to happen for you, for me, for us all.