On the edge of happiness...

How often have you been advised to ‘let go?’ Of people, things, and often, memories. Since childhood, we are conditioned to let go – of toys, chocolates, odd things that were precious to our existence. I remember my childhood favorite – a toddler-sized doll that my late grandmother gifted me when I was 6 months old. It stayed, till my brother dismantled it to find life in it. My heart broke, but my mom told me it’s immature to cry for a toy. ‘Grow up’, she said. ‘You need to share things, even your favorites. And if you lose them in the way, that’s ok.’ She never knew that the doll was my only friend in this world, someone I talked to every night, shared my thoughts with. The doll was replaced by a pillow. As I grew up and moved out, the pillows changed. Some grew out to be human – friends who turned out to be confidante, a lover whose shoulder was a moving lullaby and could cure insomnia. I have let go of many things (almost all) that made me humane. Songs that reminded me ...

In one of our pre-marriage conversation, we decided on some ground rules. Some, I realized on the go. Since some of my friends asked me to make it public, here I go: Respect: With years, the face of love will inevitably change. You'll not go weak in your knees, or have butterflies in stomach. Fights can/will be messy sometimes. You'll ask 'why did I do this to myself?' often. But never lose respect for each other. You can live with a little less love, but not with a little less respect. Pro tip: If you have to cuss, do it under your breath. No third parties: No matter how miserable you feel, don’t let someone else counsel you both (unless you're seeking professional help). We all have those moments when we vent-out to our friends, but make sure they're not common friends/well-wishers. Because eventually you'll patch up, but always remember what your partner said to the common friend/well-wishe...

Above all frustrations and fear, the lockdown has taught me a valuable lesson. To pause.  All my life I was afraid to pause. To live life in ‘suspended animation’ (I quote a friend here). I always need adventures to thrive on. And every time life seemed mundane, I hopped on the next superfast express. Life has never disappointed me. Through all the heartbreaks and betrayal, I always managed to see the brighter side, learn, and move on (or pretend to). I have been trying to find comfort in mundane for a while now. Comfort in a 6-year old job, and love in a 7-year old marriage. Every time the office boy asks me if everything is fine after I go back after a break, I feel home.  I feel loved when every morning, my husband plants a peck on my cheek before leaving for work. And on days when he avoids doing that (because I am mad at him), my daughter will not let him go without giving a ‘Puchi’ to Ma. And the lockdown has taught me to notice and value that mundane routi...