Finding my feet

You cannot seek peace. You can only live your life, hoping it will seek you some day. And it sought me out last evening as I walked along the Marina reservoir, soaking in the silence evening brings, humming Wo shaam kuch ajeeb thi… It has been over a year since we left Hong Kong, and our life before our girl came along. Pregnancy, displacement anxiety, P’s work situation, family issues, and initial hiccups of parenthood have kept us away from relishing the adventure that moving cities and countries entails. And, I suppose, it has reflected in how I have lived my life in the past one year. Looking back, I am afraid, I have given people the impression that I have been bitter. I was bitter. Bitter the way one is when nothing makes sense. With no friends, nowhere to turn to for support, no help, a battered body and a little baby, I fear, I was depressed for some time. I did not step out of my apartment for days, feeling victimized and wronged. All the optimism that I had gushed about earlier on this blog deserted me. I was so forlorn, so unhappy that I shudder thinking about it now. Thankfully, I have begun to understand the injustice I have been doing to myself. Talking to random people, boring my mother and sister to death, and trying P’s last bit of patience, let me vent out. After months of complaining, I think my negativity is losing steam. Healing begins when you begin to accept your reality. Bit by bit, I am making peace with my situation. I have begun to pick pieces of my life, cherishing all the good stuff it has showered on me.