2012

2012 has been a memorable year. You know the kinds you remember when you are eighty, perhaps in a rocking chair wondering whether the dinner will have mashed potatoes. But the reason it will be memorable is because of the lessons I learned.

At the end of 2012, I am half a lawyer. I am not the confused teen I was, I know myself, my dreams and my ambitions. It has been a roller coaster year; there has been joy and sorrow, love and heartbreaks, calmness and depression and all the various volatile emotions ranging from the mad temper tantrums to those moments of perfect happiness.

I changed. Dreams changed. Friends changed. Family changed. Everything changed or atleast my perceptions did.

So lets round up a brilliant 2012,

So year started with the same resolutions as the previous ones. However, like the previous ones I haven’t fulfilled any of them. I honestly don’t remember much about January except that was the first winter in Law Faculty. I remember drinking the sweet tea from those sticky tea glasses and shivering for the morning eight thirty classes.

February was completely different, I was interning for the first time in my life at an “Uncle” law firm. The lessons I learned there (academic and non-academic) will stay with me all my life. It was my first brush with office life and while we were treated to a party on the second day there, backstabbing, gossiping, office culture were things whose existence I acknowledged for the first time. Frankly, I learned as much about law as you would learn from reading a Law Commission Report but what I did learn were Three Golden Rules. These rules have helped me through countless hard times. February was also the month of Comic Con, which was like visiting my childhood again. Pinki, Chacha Chaudhary, Tinkle were comics I consumed by the dozen. I suppose seeing them in existence ten/twelve years later brought sweet satisfaction, that even though Cartoon Network had changed there are things which remain the same. February also brought my first semester result, I have not jumped so high with joy since. It was also the month when I first kissed a boy.

March was Muscat. They say third time is a charm and it certainly was. If it felt like home in year before that, this year we did homely things, wined and dined with neighbours, exchanged cups of sugar and stories. If I concentrate hard enough, I can feel myself standing at the Seeb beach with those round stones under my feet and the turquoise water in front of me, amazingly I can recall watching the group of Muslim school girls chasing each other’s hijab as they flew in the cold sea air, the two Pakistani men who sat silently gazing at the horizon perhaps remembering home. Muscat is a tumultuous time always, the need to stay away yet the yearning for home.

April and May are months which flew by fast. Exams, notes and comprehending who were friends and who weren’t sum them up. Unfortunately I remember a lot of tears, heartbreak and anger. This was my low point of the year. I would love to disregard this time however it was rather significant. I was insecure about myself, doubting every move I made and had the confidence of science student giving an accountancy exam.

And then came June, I was at my second intern. The first ten days I spent as an actual law intern and I worked on drafting, Manupatra, privacy policy agreements (terms I had heard for the first time).  The rest twenty days were a never ending party, endless laughter accompanied with terrible read yummy dhaba food. I became friends with people from different backgrounds and colleges, it was exhilarating to know that I could go toe to toe with a student from a NLU. I will always remember this month not only for the lessons but for the laughter because it was endless. It reverberated through the room, I can hear us laughing about the things we did. The simple joys of food or smoking and having your senior come over and ask for a smoke or the rush of having spent an entire day doing productive work  and coming home to tell your Mum about it. It was about those small things and large but most importantly, June gave “me” back. I was me.

(second part coming next week or when I stop smiling because I cant stop remembering how much we laughed)  

Go Goa

When I was in class five or six, we went on a family vacation to my Dad's favourite holiday spot Shimla. We travelled in the Toy Train, stayed in a gorgeous hotel, visited Chail and Kufri and did tourist-y things. 

That is the last memorable vacation I recall where it all seemed extremely simple.

Subsequent vacations to Jaipur, Rishikesh and even Muscat were adventurous but lacked the element of holiday. 

So when the Goa holiday with friends was propagated, I got excited. I was ecstatic, daydreaming during exams, using it as a bargaining tool to finish chapters, using it as a motivating factor. 

However, now as the fifteenth of January draws nearer, the thrill is slowly seeping out.

When the Goa vacation was created, I imagined days spent lazing, not worrying what we ate or what we wore, not having a schedule of places to visit or must do things, hours spent lying on the beach writing/filling my diaries, sipping at pina coladas staring into the sea. That's the image I had in my head.

Its increasingly becoming something far and far away from this image.

Shopping, clothes, accessories, suitcases, money, dresses, shorts, sunscreens, hats, things like body image, party behaviour, swim ability and adjusting are becoming the major issues.

The things I want out of Goa seem terribly different from the things that other people are going for. 

My reason is simple : I want a vacation from everything. I want a holiday from life in Delhi, some days to myself to process and think without being distracted by mundane things. I want to enjoy, laugh and have fun for five days without giving sparing a thought about anyone. I want to sleep. I want fun. No partying, no friendship, no family. 

Most of all I want peace.

Terrifying

The last three days have been particularly hard. It is not easy to deal with the real side of dreams. We were taught, dreams are endless but are they really ?

When  terms and conditions render them all but useless, does the integrity or the very essence that makes it a dream remain ?

In my head, the steps I had paved to my dream were enough. But I realize they aren’t, and I suppose it’s the worst feeling.

It terrifies me to admit this but I am back to square one now. What is worse, I don’t know where to begin. 

Stay

Some people leave, others come back and then leave and then there are some who just stay.

It haunts me

Nothing brings life into perspective like death.

Death is unpredictable, happens out of the blue. You don’t expect it; you cannot make contingencies for it. It hits you like a slap in the face. You stop living your life like you did the moment before that.

The perspective that hits you may or may not last. The attitude change may affect life as general or not.

You just hope that the perspective lasts, that it stays like a filter or perhaps a pair of glasses when you see the rest of your life. Because that is the only way you would do everything without a care about the consequences.

Death shocks you, the suddenness of the event gives you goosebumps.

She may have been sitting in front of you one day asking her Dad on the phone to book tickets for the movie and the next you have a text in your phone about the sudden demise of her beloved father.

The jealousy, the anger, anxiety, evil thoughts, hatred, envy, scepticism and the resentment it all drains out of you. All that is left is shock and perhaps shreds of pure guilt for having such thoughts.

And then you think about all those people who are dear to you and what if something like this happened to them?

What would you have changed or done more or said more or perhaps just loved more.

Lessons

Star World, it seems has taken upon itself to educate the younger generation about the joys of TV series extending beyond five seasons.

It recently came back with Grey's Anatomy, everyday at ten o' clock.

I have not been watching everyday mostly because I cannot stand Meredith and Derek. To tell you honestly, I am waiting for Hunt to return and spar with Yang. I like my love stories with a little fight between the lovers and not with the others.

Anyway, what I have realized is that life is not like Grey's Anatomy. Save me the roll of  eyes saying "told you so".

I did think so. I thought you could describe your feelings to someone as it came to your mind without thinking, that eventually you could fall in love with your friend and it could be all you wanted and a hundred other things you assumed.

I was eighteen. I was naive. So yes, my younger Grey's watchers don't expect life to unfold like Meredith's.

You cannot express your feelings to another person as they are in your head. They need to be moulded and created accordingly.

So even though it may seem so easy to go upto another and say what you think, here are repercussions to that. 

Things about me

I pray for this every damn time !
Except when its Mum.