I remember leaving Lahore, packing up my life there into neat boxes, waterproofed with plastic sheets. Bomb blasts and different wars that all bled the same colour but for the front page had different names and agendas. I remember being confused by political discussions where not a single person knew who the good guys were. There was a 20 20 world cup that I remember watching with Malkani and Sahar. I know Anam came and shared a week of my existence in Lahore. Sahar, JB and I went and absorbed the warmth of the refugees in Swabi who even in the face of homelessness were willing to share stories, food, children and love. I made up with a new old friend.
And such memories are all that reach out. The rest of the year and in fact the last few years just stare back at me and they look as blurry to me as I to them.
Though, now that I’m sitting and writing this, there are more memories poking me, sliding their cold fingers against my skin; goosebumps that remind me of what I didn’t do. Matters that I left incomplete. Or the half hearted attempts I made at following through with a few decisions. Running through money that I am not earning. Or being confused about wanting things and struggling for them.
So maybe this time, I should think of the year I have ahead. I usually don’t have resolutions at the end of a year for the next. And I still don’t want the rather self serving list that reads so impressive but never really materializes otherwise!
Maybe 2010 can be the year where I will actually work on and struggle with all those existing aims, plans, layouts that are all shoved together in a dusty pile when working on them requires too much from me. I know somewhere in all the rooms that I call mine, like shiny dollars under the couch, my plans lie hidden in the nooks and crannies. Slightly dusty but still of value. I shall start collecting them.
Tomorrow.
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