As we reach the cusp of another year-end, I am filled with ambivalent thoughts. Should I ruminate on the 12 months that have gone by, or should I focus on the fresh set of 12 months that are approaching us?
Without getting into too much of detail about the year that was, let me just say, if I had a gratitude diary, I would firstly be grateful for being alive. I was not in the wrong place at the wrong time and, therefore, did not get into a road accident, become a terrorist target, suffer a medical trauma or have any other fatal catastrophe. For this I am very thankful to God, nature and the divine spirit that is watching over me.
Secondly, I am filled with gratitude for a fair bit of travelling that I did throughout this year. Some might say, I was permanently in and out of airports but they would be exaggerating. Other than seeing new places, cities and cultures, I managed to be with my friends when they celebrated their milestone birthdays or anniversaries. The joy on their faces at seeing me was enough reward for the jet lag and the long haul flights that I had to undertake.
Finally, I am happy that I got to live in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan for one more year, taking the total tally of my years in Amman, to five. I don’t know about the other expatriates, but I am delighted to be based here, and why shouldn’t I be? Only yesterday, there were five people who guided me as I parallel parked my car, including the two, who were ahead of me in the lane, but stopped and got out of their vehicles to do so. I mean, where else would one have such courteous folks?
On a personal note, my eyesight deteriorated some more. When I went to the optometrist and she said my power had jumped, I disagreed with her completely. I read the words on the reading board in a rushed manner to confuse her, but she would have none of it. We argued over the number she prescribed, till she reminded me firmly that we were not in a vegetable market.
But since I was the one paying for the final product, I dug my heels in, so to speak. Ultimately, I had my way and got the reading glasses of my choice. While I was at it, I ordered six pairs of them. She wrote down my request in a totally unperturbed fashion and then raised her eyebrows to ask me why. I was losing my memory, I told her, preparing myself for another disagreement. But she agreed with me so readily that I felt a bit cheated.
For the New Year, I wish all my readers health, wealth and happiness. For myself, I wish that a latest health food got discovered, that would help me in enhancing my total recall.
“At the stroke of the midnight hour,” our daughter quoted the other day.
“When the world sleeps,” I continued automatically.
“Hush,” she said.
“India will awake to life and freedom,” I concluded.
“This is a famous speech, right?” she queried.
“India’s first prime minister delivered it,” I said.
“Wow,” she exclaimed.
“Tryst with something it was called,” I muttered.
“What thing?” she was curious.
“I’m trying to remember,” I admitted.
“You are destined to forget everything,” she complained.
“That’s it! Tryst with destiny,” I yelled.
