.. and here’s to 2020

In a very social world, as you go through insta stories, after stories, pictures after pictures, liking them, loving them, commenting on them, wishing them, envying them, wishing you could have a little piece of their happiness pie. But then you may argue that I witnessed the fireworks at the Burj, and was surrounded by family and new friends. True I had it all, but as I said and believe, you can feel all alone in a room full of people.

True I was in Dubai witnessing the firework display at the Burj Khalifa, true I had my family with me, but somehow I found myself being the Debbie Downer, just being myself, cause the ones that mattered to me were not with me, and ones who I thought I mattered, didn’t really feel I mattered to them. Besides I don’t drink (apart from the very occasional glass of wine), and don’t know how to party, and can turn me into a Grinch, a loner, someone who sits in the corner, not wanting to do anything, much to the annoyance of fellow partiers cause I can dance (I have trained in it).

Moreover my clash of ideals and the way I see the world, my overbearing nature almost every time finds me at odd with siblings and friends. Almost every time has landed me with a tear in my eye, all alone. An although I promise myself never again, I end up going through it all over again. And I don’t blame them, just because they don’t see the world my way doesn’t make them wrong. So I have had pathetic New Years, sleeping early while the world celebrated, or spending it in hospital beds, or cleaning up behind my sick relatives, or the worst, traveling to Thailand and then deciding to stay back in the hostel and complete my story, while my friends went out for a foam party.

I don’t blame them, cause I know I am the most pathetic, uninteresting guy, who starts to feel all grumpy and cranky before the clock strikes twelve. But then how I wish I could spend New Year’s Eve with the one that matter, kiss them tightly as the the clock strikes 12. As cliched and pathetic as it may sound, it’s something I really hope for. Really wanting to spend that New Year’s Eve in the arms of the one, giving thanks for the year gone by, hoping that no more tears.

But somehow through the years I always end up not having it in the way I wanted to. This is not what I wanted, not what I hoped for. I didn’t ask for the tears and pain, the feeling of hopeless loneliness, the feeling of seeding anger for being misunderstood, the feeling of being upset. But somehow they all find you.

Despite it all you don’t loose hope. You go to the washroom, you cry behind closed doors, then wash your face and you return back to being quiet in your corner, as others term you a spoilsport, and yes you may deserve that title.  

But you know what, you hope, you hope the coming year would be different. You don’t know what’s in store for you, you don’t know what lays ahead of you, you are scared, you are nervous of the dark abyss that lies ahead of you. You wonder if would you make it through, or would this year be the end of you. 

But despite all your nervousness, your sorrows and fears, there’s still excitement of taking a step into the unknown, a will to live, to heed the calling of your heart, to make changes, to start a new, be the best you, way more cooler. Give a damn what others have to say about you, cause they’ll never understand you if they can never see the world the way you see it.

So here’s to the new year, a new decade, 2020. Here’s to working on you and the ones ans things that mean the world to you, to cherishing them and nurturing them. Here’s to shedding off that unwanted and unwarranted baggage that you keep lugging around. Here’s to running, to fitness and good health. Here’s to love and people that matter to you, the ones you love. Here’s to making changes for the better. Here’s to more writing. Here’s to friendship and strengthening of the bonds that matter. Here’s to being you, to doing your part in giving back for what you have received. Here’s to not being quiet.

Here’s to the New Year, here’s to 2020!