Images in the Periphery

 

Images in the periphery

2020.

 "what a useless year"

I am not the best when it comes to associating events with years. I don’t remember any memory from when I was 11 years old but I do remember exactly where I got hurt in my gums more than a decade ago and how long it took to heal. I don’t remember the year when I fell down from a tree but I remember exactly where it hurt in my leg, I remember my father standing below the tree urging me to jump and the colour of the chair that I was sitting on and howling in pain in. I am not good with years. Maybe 5 years from now, I won’t remember that the things that happened in this year happened when they did, but I trust myself to remember how I bawled my eyes out of utter joy one fine evening; the day my father was taken to the hospital and I had my end of school board exams a stone’s throw away and everything that could have gone wrong, did, and yet there I was crying so loudly because of the unimaginable joy coursing through my veins at such a speed that I could feel it in my fingertips. I was laughing because of the water and the wind. I was on the roof, and it was raining cats and dogs, the wind was blowing in every direction and I was wearing my favourite jeans, the ones I painted, I was so cold and I was dancing and crying and laughing, because everything thing that could go wrong, did, but the wind hit my face just right, and the water was just perfectly sad and angry and frustrated, just like me. So I cried, because I was happy and I trust myself to never forget what that felt like. This is 2020 for me. Everything that could have gone wrong did. But every once in a while, just something came along that made me cry out of utter joy, and it somehow made the lap easier.

I saw things that left me speechless, acts of kindness, humanity, people going to great lengths to make someone else happy, fighting to laugh with one’s family again, living along with their loved ones an arm’s length away and not being able to be with them; for some people, dying alone; dying in confusion, alone and without human contact. This was happening in mass numbers and it was happening everywhere. It happened to people very close to me and it happened to people that I will never know. People fought for power, capital and control. At a time when the entire world was looking for a little comfort and reassurance, we had large groups of people feeding off of the fear of the masses. It was unbelievable but also extremely predictable. There was inexplicable suffering, a lot of which I’ll never know about simply because it never surfaced. With all of this going on, the one thing that always seemed to go right was the fight. Amidst a worldwide deadly pandemic, people without fail, continued to fight for what they believed was right and just and fair. Protest, Dissent and Revolt, it stayed alive, authority was questioned and fingers were pointed, nothing was taken for granted anymore. It’s ironic how on one hand there was a lot of fear and uncertainty while at the same time on the other hand there was unwavering determination; determination to set things right, to fight the good fight and not give in. The fight kept me going; it gave me hope that we were still alive, not for long maybe, but still alive.

I think we all fell a little bit in love this year. Or at least I did.  I fell in love with having meals with people. Sitting in a room with a group of people and eating, standing in a kitchen and cooking with the same people, watching the sun, finding the stars, and growing the flowers with these people. I fell in love with it. Standing in the hall on an empty afternoon, the sun shining in all its glory, my hands smelling of dough and having nothing to do, just soaking up the sun, an always existing reminder of the privilege I am carrying around every second of every day. Nothing I could do or say would make any of this fair, for anyone. It was troubling, yes, but nothing compared to what millions of people had to go through every single day. I heard a lot of stories this year. It was as if I met the people that I lived with for the first time. I saw them as individuals, as someone outside of the roles that were given to them. It was nothing less than perplexing and infatuating. Fell in love this year. Again.

 

I lived more than I learned this year. There was a lot of laughter, pain, confusion, hurt and heartbreak. But there was also a hell of a lot of living. I made music which was ghastly to say the very least, but in the minutes I spent cringing at the sound of myself trying to sing and play at the same time, I was a little more alive. I don’t know what the next year will bring, but I know I won’t be forgetting this one for a long time. This one is for the people who continued to get up every day and just be. I know it wasn’t easy. I’m glad you did it anyway. It gets better.

Here’s to another year of fleeting moments that never really leave but don’t really stay.

“Just let the time bide, and I’ll see you on the other side”

-maahi