Be there soon

On my 22nd birthday in March, I remember I had a strong conviction. I had things to get done this year - milestones to reach, places to be, people to meet, a person to become. I dreamt strongly with passion and had faith to get through things steadily. Even then I knew that nothing I did could really prepare me for everything. But I was ready to leap, ready to try, and that felt enough. By the time we moved through the weeks in March, things felt bleak but I was still hopeful. 

Hope isn't anything tangible. If anything, I feel that it's fragile - "handle with care". As days passed, my hopefulness was clouded by judgment, self-doubt, and fears. As hours, days, and weeks meshed together, I tried to find a thing or other to do. I was trying to run - just as people around me, just like time. Just like how the earth still spun and brought each day to a night. Just as the blooms in spring got drenched in the monsoon rain, eventually withered, and fell. It felt necessary to keep going, I needed any momentum I could get in any form or medium. This was an unpredictable time, all the things that I felt ready to leap for suddenly felt too far away. And I could only accept the things as they came. 

dusk. nov20, 2020. 

"It's okay" was a constant consolation. Maybe because as humans, we are wired to fight to survive, hanging onto anything that kept me going felt necessary. I went back to old hobbies, even created new ones to have something to do. I watched as many sunsets as I could. I wanted something to be grateful for each day. On some days, I was too forgetful. I skipped meals, forgot to drink water but I was still working on something even on those days. I needed to be productive even when I did the bare minimum to take care of myself. "It's okay," I said this to myself even on my easiest of days and even on the toughest ones. I needed consolation and assurance every day. That was the thread of hope I held on to.  

In every painting I made last year, every color I used was a plea. I am not good with colors, I have never understood them well. But painting is very therapeutic for me. I scribbled my wishes in Hangul in most of my paintings and gave some of them to my friends and family, I wanted my wishes to reach my people, no matter how long it takes, I want them to come true. And I want my people to be there for me when they do. 

My 22nd year wasn't what I pictured it to be. Maybe your 25th wasn't how you wanted it to be either. Maybe your 16th passed by just as swiftly. Maybe your 20th became a year of drastic changes. Maybe your 35th became a year for a pause. Even without a definite end to the pandemic on sight, you kept doing what you needed to and you are here today - alive. You stayed, you moved, you paused, you kept going and you are HERE. Right now, I am grateful for it. I have slowly started dreaming again. I want to do some things again, I want to learn. I want to tell my friends that they are dear to me. I want to watch sunsets and dance to my favorite songs again these days. So much time has passed, and I have moved with it. Now I wish to dream more, to be gentle with myself, and live well. Spring will come again. I will keep finding the hope I need to strive each day and wherever I need to be, I will be there soon.

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5:20 PM // note

I had a beautiful day with people who are the closest to me after a long time. I am on a bus ride that takes me home. Almost halfway through, it's my fourth time listening to "Life Goes On" by BTS today. I am going through the lyrics this time. Reading through each line and listening to the song is making me think of a lot of things about the past year. 

I teared up so many times. It felt so easy to let go. It felt nice to have a song keep me company. It was nice to know I have so much to grateful for. I have so much to be alive for. 

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7:37 PM // note

We walked around familiar streets and drank tea - so mundane and easy, yet so precious. 

I told Nivedita that I had so much time with myself, I didn't know what to do, so I thought a lot about a lot of things. We have been friends for years, despite the distances, despite the changes, and more importantly, despite us being the way we are. I will always do something to keep her around for as long as she will have me. 

Listening to Nikita's narration of her stories is always a breath of fresh air. She has her own theatrics for them. I am still shocked that Nikita first met me when she was in fifth grade (she is in high school now!). I can only hope she has seen me grow as much as I have watched her bloom.  

I listened to Rupesh talk about his dreams and stories. This was our routine - we did this almost every day since we became friends (I thank myself for pestering him to be one). This evening, I realized ever since the first time we walked together one evening in early December 2017, I have never taken any of our walks for granted. And, oh, it is comforting to have someone to share dreams with. 

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Leaving this verse translated by Doolset Bangtan here for you: 

I’d borrow this music and tell you

People say the world has changed

Thankfully, between you and I,

it’s still the same.