How not to spend December 31
As the year 2017 whizzing past me draws to an end, there is a quiet calmness within me as I simply wonder: How do we take time for granted when it is the one fundamental reality of our lives over which we have no control? There is so much that is to be done, in our personal lives, on a familial level, in our societies, for our collective humanity. At the end of every year, however, most of us are left squirming away from the stark question: What did I do this year?
Life is not about extraordinary happenings, life is about happening of ordinary moments tinged with extraordinariness of human emotions. To me the success and failure of a life is immune to a regular barometer of achievements and duds; it is all about making every tiny thing you do matter, and mattering to those who make your life the delightful, exasperating, befuddling and utterly fascinating potpourri of humanity that makes us all special despite our apparent ordinariness.
Life is not about that one newsworthy achievement that adds your name to a newspaper headline, television ticker, a social media post going viral, a page in the country's history books. Merely a handful of the very brilliant who have the right idea at the right time, those who dream big and achieve bigger, are in that list of achievers. The rest wrestle with their diurnal ordinariness, beaming, bemoaning, bewildered, brazen. Life, as most of us know it, is living knowing our limits and still rejoicing in its tiny gifts that it brings with it but that go unnoticed by most of us.
That tight hug of your child, that protective embrace of your mother, that unexpected gift from your long-distance sibling, that silent presence of your niece around you when you feel broken, those words of strength from your sister when you feel claustrophobic about day-to-day existence, that happy song from your younger brother when you feel low, that cheerful midnight walk with your nephew, that instant help from your father when you reach out in a time of need.
Your wordless prayers at seeing your child become the kind of human being that you always wished him to be: kind, happy, smart, positive. Your existence intertwined with his presence.
That one friend, who understands your silences, that one message of friendship that brightens your dreary evening, that one unsolicited advice that wipes the worry from your brow. That one act of unconditional sweetness from your long-distance friend that strengthens your words. That one email from your publishing house that braodens your smiles, that feeling of profound fulfilment looking at the cover of your unpublished book. That one thoughtful post from a stranger on Twitter that makes you smile when you are shaking your head in dismay reading words dipped in unwarranted venom. That one piece of your writing that is read and praised by thousands. That one late-night text from an old friend you lost touch with years ago. That beautiful wish on your birthday from someone you once knew.
That sight of a child rushing to hug you, his tiny arms halfway around your back. That cheerful smile on the face of the boy selling made-in-China toys at the crowded traffic signal. That quiet act of selfless compassion helping someone in need. That reaching out to help someone without being asked. That tight holding of a hand sitting with a loved one in pain.
That feisty stray dog wounded by rubber pellets and rescued by your nephew. That happy feeling when an animal finds a loving home. That look of love in your dog's eyes as she gives you a canine hug, furry and sloppy.
Mirza Ghalib's ghazals, Ahmed Faraz's pathos, old Kishore Kumar songs, Amitabh Bachchan ki filmain, Hrithik Roshan's eyes, Angelina Jolie's awesomeness, TV shows you watch over and over, Shakespeare's tragedies, Gabriel García Márquez's magic realism, books you read and reread.
A large cappuccino, that perfect platter of sushi, barbecued prawns, that bite of tiramisu delicious like the name of your beloved, breakfast of saag and paratha, bites of purri-channa, cookies and cream shake.Star-specked sky. Full moon. First flakes of snow. That sunset. White sand, the sound of ocean. An exquisite dawn. A walk in the rain. Cuddling by the fireplace. Sleeping with your head on his chest. That indescribable kiss. The last time you saw him. Those 45 minutes.
In a world blackened by violence, war, terrorism, hunger, poverty, displacement, disease, sexual violence, natural disasters and death, each day is a revelation in the value of that one thing that's more precious than any other and is yet so worthless it's taken away in the blink of an eye: life.
Amidst the gloom of intolerance, bigotry, xenophobia, jingoism, unnatural borders, man-made divisions, injustice, inequality, lack of opportunity and shrinking freedoms, life manifests its glory in the smile of a child who's lost his entire family, heroism of an old man burying his two sons, strength of a woman who survived gang rape, artless laughter of an amputee teenager, unshed tears of a wounded man. Life happens in that very moment when slivers of the best of humanity shine breaking the ebony stillness of tragedy, devastation, pain, loss.
Tomorrow. Yesterday. In Urdu, there is one word for these two states: kal. The ambiguity is delightful. Blurring the line between what was and what will be is the now. Today. Aaj. There is a world that is hidden in this one word; it is all you and I have, it is all that decides what will be, what could be. Take today in your palm, watch it spread its bright colours like a butterfly, let it be a celebration of that one thing that makes you human: your heart beating inside your chest, tick-tocking like a clock on a battery that has a forever warranty, until it stops mid-heartbeat. Uh oh, life reached its expiration while your middle finger fumbled for the snooze button. If only we could all follow the daily inspirational quotes from Hallmark...
The last day of the year is not to take stock of what you should have done and didn't - the dress you wanted to fit in but remained 10 pounds too voluptuous for; the job you aimed for only to see it go to a very mediocre 25-year-old; the man of your dreams becoming your cliché of a nightmare when he breaks your heart for the umpteenth time, this time sleeping with your best friend; that stack of books on your night-table that you gently push out of your vision as you snuggle deeper into your soft white comforter, binge-watching season two of The Crown; that marriage of yours you watched become drearier than 1980s horror movies; those fickle friendships that withered faster than the chambeli ke phool you bought from the bright-eyed teenager at the crowded intersection near the new shopping mall; the gym you drive by every day and promise to join next week; that number in your phone book you wish to delete before sighing you know it by heart.
The last day of the year is just another day despite multiple wishes on your WhatsApp, Facebook, Twitter, SMS (yup, some people besides shameless companies selling goods and services still send SMSes) and Gmail. Ordinary, uneventful, unremarkable, forgettable. The comfortable redundancy of formation of New Year resolutions soothes your oh-God-what-a-waste-this-year-was moans in your semi-darkened room, as you slip deeper into your old, worn sofa to watch the new season of Black Mirror alone, or slip into an overpriced Dior gown ready to go to an overcrowded party at a farmhouse outside the city.
Whatever you do, don't stop dreaming. Even if it is just to have that perfect glass of Laurent-Perrier at midnight on December 31, 2017. Do it aaj.
Me, all I want is a hug from my son as 2017 blurs into 2018.
To my son... and all his todays.