2011. The Year of the Happening. The year of Arab Spring and the royal wedding, the death of Bin Laden and the end of the war. A pack of famous and notorious names passed on, the U.S. clambered out of recession, Lokpal became a household buzzword in India and the great wheel of life churned on. With this hum of world events in the backdrop, I commenced the year wrapping up my work and life in Bombay and doling out bear hugs to the precious people I wouldn’t see for a while. Valentine’s Day landed me in San Francisco (and yes, that was totally planned) and into the arms of my patiently waiting Boy. In the months that followed, we set about making a home, fashioning a life and enjoying the many pleasures of the area.
2011. The Year of Beginnings. The year of a new home, new job, new life and new friends. World events swirled outside our little bubble as the Boy and I delighted in our time together, savoring the joy of basic couch-and-movie time, cooking delicious meals, exploring parks in the brilliant sunshine, reconnecting with old friends and establishing new relationships. We introduced each other to our family here and were warmly embraced, developed a circle of friends, and settled into the area quickly and comfortably. We rediscovered home in each other (go ahead, barf at the cliché), in the fabricated rituals that emerge from non-religious, bi-cultural cohabitation, and I even found a desi waxing lady and this was the high point of my year. Just kidding.
2011. The Year of Exhaling. The year when my screeching train wreck of an existence finally became a gentle chug-a-chug-a-chug-a-chug-a. Last year was hard and in saying that I’ve made the most understated remark I ever will. It was a year filled with memories that would torture me if I let them, but uh-uh, I’m Dalai Lama-ing instead, bubbling over as I am, with contentment and gratitude. This year was for lying on my buttery soft couch and breathing. For listening to the icemaker go clack. For straightening the bows on the back of my dining chairs. And for chucking all that meandering for 12-hour workdays involving kiddie poo.
2011. The Year of Review. The year I stand amidst its final days and marvel at how far we’ve come. How loved we feel. How thankful we are. How blessed. Our family is mostly well, we’ve traveled and socialized, lived it up and loved it, we’ve been healthy, at peace and have new lace curtains on the living room window (What? I had to share that with you!) and this beautiful respite has provided us with strength to grapple with the curveballs that life will eventually throw. Some folks I know can’t wait for 2011 to be over. It’s been the worst year, they complain. I can’t either. But only because I’m greedy and want to see how much better this life thingy can get.
Happy New Year, lovely people. Thank you for sharing this one with me.