Allons-y!

A few weeks ago while in Punakha, Bhutan, I saw a broccoli plant for the first time in my life. It is embarrassing, really – for someone who has been to Omotesando more times than I have to Orchard Road this year, I have always assumed myself to be worldly, and have seen much more than the average Joe. But it is a timely reminder that what I have seen thus far is only a countable many; there is still an uncountable much waiting to be discovered.

2019 is a year that started great, and will likewise end great, albeit with a catastrophic loss. Great, because as long as I am still living, it is great. And a heartbreak as a catastrophic loss? In my little sheltered life, it deservingly counts so.

I have failed my duties as a friend lately: every text which I did not reply was intentional, and every engagement I went to was purely my selfish attempt to return to the normalcy of life. Every “hahah” and “miss you too” were more parts insincere than sincere. Yet strangely, despite acting so, I have been showered with more love than usual. It is endearing, and I am thankful.

This, is not a thank you post, nor is it a New Year resolution.

Look, if we were to remove the arbitrary labels, the status of things today is no different from tomorrow; unfinished work stays unfinished, broken relationships stay broken, and our national anthem still sounds at 6am.

You get the idea.

Our desperate need for this classification system called “new decade” to be that refresh button in our life puzzles me. Have we forgotten that our sins remain ours, our promises still stand, and our wound will remain unhealed, or leave a scar at best?

Pardon me for being a Debbie Downer in the spirit of festivities, but I have always believed in living every day as my last, and the last day of the year has no less significance to me than any other day of the year. (No, let me correct myself – 15^th of June holds precedence over every other date) Perhaps, we have been conditioned by the societal ideal of being clinical to only allow ourselves special dates a year to purge our feelings. National day to play the part of a patriotic citizen, Valentine’s Day to proclaim our undying love, and the last day of the year to exude renewed vigour to live as a better person. Acting so on undictated dates would be strange. Perhaps, we have been trained to be mercenaries unknowingly, trading away the core of being human in our pursuit of poster happiness.

But really, there is no wrong in that. We all have a different ideal. We are all free to pursue different things.

What is problematic, is when we become judgmental when we detect difference. But again, I am in no position to claim what is the correct way to behave. You be you, stay in your lane and I’ll stay in mine.

I digress.

Still being alive aside, 2019 is really a good year. I attended many good gigs, travelled to many new places, and more importantly, got my priorities realigned. It is hard to see the good of it when I am still living the consequences, but in my heart of hearts, I know this is right.