It’s that time of the year – time to write my usual year end post. As I sit here reflecting on the year that’s gone by, I am finding it difficult to fathom all the things that have happened. It feels like I’ve been engulfed in a hurricane that hasn’t died down yet. Overwhelmed is maybe how I feel right now. It’s not just me, everyone is probably feeling the same way. I am also finding it difficult to demarcate the good and the bad. It’s like salt and sugar mingled in equal proportions. I cannot pick one from the other. Every good had its associated bad and vice versa. There was no gray. Everything was in sharp contrast. Yet, it’s hard to pick one without the other. That’s how life happened to me personally in 2020.
Here’s a summary of the year as it was for me – the weird and one-of-a-kind year.
2020 has to be an unforgettable year for me. The reason is my father, who suddenly left for his heavenly abode. He was blessed and fortunate to have been able to leave this world as easily as he did. However, not a single day goes by when I don’t remember him. Getting used to his absence is something I am trying hard to learn.
2020 has been the year of pandemic lockdowns. We’ve been confined to our homes for a significant part of the year. It provided an opportunity to discover and appreciate joy derived from the small things of life – things that we otherwise overlooked. It was also an opportunity to contemplate and be cognizant of all those things that we had taken for granted in life.
2020 was supposed to be a no-travel-year for everyone. I have been privileged to have traveled quite a bit throughout the year, including an international travel too.
Bhadrika Ashram, Himachal Pradesh, to start the year.
Miami, USA on an official visit.
Madurai, Rameshwaram and Dhanushkodi with my parents – turned out to be the last trip with my father.
Number of places in the outskirts of Bangalore, including Mysore, BR Hills, and more.
Some beaches and temples in Tamil Nadu and Kerala.
2020 was supposed to be a year of no treks but two treks happened to me, both in the outskirts of Bangalore. No Himalayas this year.
Circumstances led to spending a lot of family time together in our Shillong home. Not just the immediate family but extended family too. Also, this was the first time in many years that I got to spend quality time in my father’s garden that he had painstakingly built over several years.
Again, it was circumstances that led me to participate in our family Durga Puja after a gap of 20 years.
The pandemic led me to revisit my hobby of stitching as I hand-stitched masks for myself and also for family and friends.
Hit by a pandemic related downsizing at work, I had to leave the job that had me engaged for 8 years. However, destiny presented me with another job offer and I was employed in less than a month’s time. (My father’s blessings I’d like to believe.)
It will be unfair if I miss mentioning those few people who went out of their ways to do things for me. People, who are not friends, people who I just causally met or interacted with. These people left me speechless and made me wonder if at all I deserved all of those acts of kindness! Sometimes I feel inspired to be the same, sometimes I feel indebted not knowing what I could do in return.
The year ended with my cousin visiting me and working from my home in Bangalore for the whole of December. It did leave me very busy as I struggled to manage home and the expectations of a new job. But the joyful moments I have been having at home is priceless and inestimably precious.
2020 – the year like no other – has been as tumultuous as it can be. However, there is no room to complain. My year has been like a garden of roses when compared to the untold sufferings people world over have had. I can only express my gratitude and pray to the Almighty to keep me grounded, judicious, and steady in 2021 and beyond.
“The word, Privilege, has to be the most over-used word of 2020,” a friend remarked the other day. And I quite agreed with her. We were in the middle of a routine ranting session. Such grief outpouring sessions happen once in a while when we feel all the wrong in the world is happening to us. Almost always such sessions find no merit and either of us is quick to point out how grateful we ought to be for all the privileges we enjoy.
‘Privilege’ may have been an over-used word in 2020 but it is not for nothing. In many ways the pandemic has opened our eyes and almost everything that life has given to the likes of us feels like a privilege.
This thought was further emphasized when another friend shared his blog post with me. An avid traveller and trekker, who happens to be a scientist too writes about certain lessons he learnt this year. The one that struck me most was – Travel is a Privilege. It wasn’t something new to me. I have always been cognizant about this fact and never shied away from thinking or talking about how fortunate I have been. However, I think I hadn’t internalized it enough. As I read this point in his post, it felt like someone was showing me the mirror. (Here’s his post: 2020 – A year without Travels)
Again, a fellow blogger sent me an email the other day where he spelt out that he felt rather embarrassed to state that everything was going good in his life. His thought did make me ponder. Given the current circumstances, we almost feel apologetic if everything is working fine in our lives. We have never felt this way at any other time. I sincerely hope we never ever take anything for granted again in our lives.
I am reminded of a manager that I used to report to two years back in my ex-office. He would always keep reiterating that the benefits we receive from office are privileges given to us, we should never think of those as our entitlements. He would mean that we should respect certain things given to us, like flexible timing, birthday time off, and so on. I always appreciated his way of keeping us grounded and this thought is something I will always carry with me.
Being alive is a privilege by itself. Living well and being who you are, doing what you wish, in sound physical and mental health – if this is not privilege, then what is! Is there even room to complain?
This post is dedicated to my dear friend Ritika. She hasn’t blogged in a while though but her writing is worth a read copyandcoffee.
You’ve wanted to be out of this place for a while now. There’s nothing to hold you here anymore. You’ve been longing for someplace else. The time has arrived and you are on your way out. You should be happy but you aren’t. You turn around and look back one last time. The name that has given you an identification of sorts over the last eight years stands out. You think about it for a moment. Is this what’s making you sad? Are you attached to it so much that parting hurts? No, it actually doesn’t. What is it then? It doesn’t take you long to identify what’s pricking you at this moment. It’s the memories associated with this place. Eight years isn’t a very short time.
The memories are associated with the people. Yes, there you are. It’s all those people you leave behind. That’s affecting you.
These are the people you have bonded with over the years. This is your comfort group. These people you trust. They have supported you, loved you, been with you all through. They understand you, they accept you as you are, they care for you. Due to the pandemic, you haven’t been physically together for months now but they’ve always been a part and parcel of your life. It’s a virtually connected world now. Feels like ages since you’ve been together in that ground floor room of Building 13. You miss the incessant chatter, the chai breaks, the lunch times, the small celebrations, and all those fun and laughter.
These are thoughts that play in my mind as I walk out of the gate after having submitted my laptop and taking care of the last of the formalities. I had resigned from my job a few weeks before this day. This was not a voluntary resignation. It was another one of those collateral damages of the pandemic that I had to deal with. The company had decided to do away with some roles and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They are probably going to outsource the job I did – I guess. There’s work to do and someone has to do it.
As I walked out my mind kept returning back to the close circuit of people, the people I care about.
I know these people are not out of my life. Over time, they have become friends from colleagues. At the same time, I am practical enough to know that the connection henceforth will not remain the same. I can no longer contribute to the office-related conversations. And, I will certainly miss all of that. All of this reiterates the fact that a place is made by the people and not the other way round. It’s the people who make a place dear to you. It’s only the people that matter. The place you work at may or may not be a reputed one, your paycheck may or may not be a great one, your job role may or may not be an enjoyable one. But if you have a gang of people that you click with, you may just be okay to make those compromises.
I will miss you Room ‘M…’, Ground Floor, Building-13.