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The Sentimental Post

Kiss me out of the bearded barley
Nightly, beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing, swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon’s sparkling
So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Swing me upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
We’ll take the trail marked on your father’s map

– Lyrics from Kiss me, Sixpence None the Richer

Swamped with work the last few days, and listening to one of my favourite Sixpence songs, I need to take a break and clear my senses. Sometimes I get sentimental. Only sometimes, but this is one of those times and therefore the uncharacteristic post.

It has been a while since I’ve taken a moment to think about the year gone by. Sometimes, I look at life whizzing past me and I know that I should slow down and take a moment to rest. Meditate. Think. Reflect. And do all those serious things 🙂

What a year it’s been. Like a roller-coaster ride, up and down and up and down again. And yet, the downs never reached the depths it did back around September of 2003.

When I left my job. When I decided to take a break. When I decided that I’d had enough. That I’d been too patient for years and years. That I wasn’t living my life the way I wanted to. That I needed to change some things or else get swallowed in the depths of despair that I’d probably never have the strength to get out of.

When, every moment, I questioned what I’d done wrong.

And then one day I decided to tear away. From a city I’d spent 6 years in. From the familiar faces and sights. And begin life anew. A fresh lease of life as they say. I was unsure, I was a little apprehensive. Despite it all, I was optimistic too.

And what a year it’s been. Landing up in a strange city where I knew just 2 people was difficult. A city, that people scared me about saying, it was so different from Mumbai that I would hate it. Thankfully, what people said didn’t apply to me.

I look around now at all the beautiful people in my life today and I know I have to thank each one of them. All you bright, talented, generous, lovely, sweet, loving, adorable, inspiring (I could go on with the adjectives!) people who make me want to be better and to try harder. You know who all of you are. Bloggers, photographers, classmates (in French class), travel bugs (or those I’ve met on my various escapades), badminton buddies, office mates, colleagues and everyone else I’ve bumped into in this short span of a year.

I have to be strong, I tell myself constantly. But hey, once in a while, in my weaker moments I do wallow in my sentiments. I allow myself to hope again, to feel thankful, to get teary-eyed, to feel loved and to feel blessed that I found life again.

And understand what Alanis Morisette was trying to say in her song, Thank You.

I think to the times that I despaired that I had lost it all. When I’d questioned what I’d done wrong.

And then today, standing at a totally different crossroad in my life, I feel that I must have done something right.

(Dedicated to all the people I’ve had the good fortune of meeting over the past year and who have [mostly unknowingly!] inspired me to become a stronger and happier person. Thank you).

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