17: Love Lives Here

17 Jan

17th January never meant anything to me, and neither is it a day I picked out of my calendar to remember specifically. 18th January is a birthday, and so on, but 17th January holds no birthdays, anniversaries, or notes in my mind’s “do not forget” folder. And I’ve been unaware of its significance for 19 years so far.

As the calendar shuffled to today, I still woke up to my regular routine, and continued on.

Today marks the 20th year.

17th January, 2017, marks two decades since our family began what would be the next phase of its journey. I remember 1997 in hazes, but in very distinct hazes. It was the year we arrived in Bangalore in the hope to settle, and call it home. Twenty years is a lot to comprehend, if you ask me.

I graduated ten years ago. I lost my father and grandfather ten years ago. I got my first job ten years ago. I handled my first client project ten years ago. I smoked my first cigarette ten years ago. I went to a club for the first time, ten years ago. We bought a new, first-hand fridge for ourselves, ten years ago. See? A decade, while vast, is easier to deal with, than the expanse that is a lifetime lived in twenty years.

A lot of my mind used the escape of repression. A lot of my heart is still raw. But a lot of the journey we began twenty years ago, and ever since, is where love came, and stayed. My memories of living started from there; my sense of direction, while largely dormant at that time, took its roots then; my concepts of love, loss, forgiveness, joy, anger, gratitude, and family, took shape then. My sense of self, in its entirety, germinated during that time.

The past twenty years have taught me more than a lifetime ever could. And that is because love lived where our journey took us, those many years back. Love lived in our room on the roof, in our togetherness in that loneliness, in our strength in our companionship, in our protection amidst our insecurities, in our faith in times of uncertainties, in our determination during our weaknesses. Love lived in our abilities to share, hold our ground, and in our unity. Love lived. Love lives here, even today. Love will always live.

Even when journeys take on new roads.

When love lives and encompasses everything around you, even the toughest roads you find yourself walking on, become smooth. The passage of time becomes a mere amalgamation of calendar dates, chunked into one. 17th January disappeared from my consciousness, just like the many thorns that softened and blossomed into the garden this journey’s path was adorned with.

Twenty years.

Thank you, dearest universe, for conspiring, and making it happen.

Thank you, Bangalore, for being home, in every sense of the word.

Thank you, to the many angels we’ve been blessed to cross paths with.

And thank you, darling time, for always being right. :)

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