Last pages of my 2022

     Only hours remain to see another one of those calendars hit the bin. Or in some households, it will eventually wrap itself around the notebooks closely for another couple of months. I remember being excited to switch from the old manorama paper calendar (Because Thilakan said 'calendar manorama thanne') cover to the harder and glossy covers of elite brands with bright pictures. 

     "You will eventually come back to me" the thoughts of the newspaper stayed printed in bold black ink at the corner. As the months started to wear out after the summer, so did those wraps. The next fight between the brothers will be for the sports page. (But we avoided the ones with sunken faces of Sachin and Ganguly, with all due respect).

      The year turned out surprisingly to me. We slowly came out of the lockdown when my hopes were high to become cavemen and cave-women, as a family. It was a pleasure to meet friends, family and people on the streets. During the covid season, normal life seemed to be a distant future. But once things came back to almost normal, the lockdown period felt like a fantasy. It's true that once you get acquainted with a routine, we will miss no matter what, when it goes away.

      For some the year mended their losses from earlier. In the meantime, there were people still searching for something. No one knows how long they have been looking for a life. The calendars remained the same from January to December, but the current generation of humans will be etched in world history as pre-covid and post-covid. Amidst all the depressing things happening around us, it's hopeful that the world still finds a way to sustain. 

         Everyone is still fighting for something, some causes, some changes. Either it's feminism, racism, or veganism. It's hard to say which -ism to belong to, as the right and wrong of the world is like the shadow of a pole. It depends on where the light is shed. Each day a new problem arises, and gracefully we switch the slogans. Only the hashtags remained the same.

         Another year will pass by, like the birds passing through the field. Seasons will find its way to reach another winter, we will too. In the hopes that time awaits us in the distance, let us join our minds in kindness. For our smallest act of kindness can stop wars at some borders. All it takes is a smile, a fine gesture, a helping hand, or a peaceful soul. Hope you find peace, again and again, in every dawn to every sunsets. Just hope.