Almost 2 years ago, I’d written something in a blog post.

“I dream of sitting by a fireplace in a small, cosy house with the softest snowfall falling outside. I dream of fluffy socks on hardwood floors, […] I dream of running into old friends who become best friends. I dream of cups of tea over platefuls of stories and laughter. I dream of healing—myself and others—through my words and actions.“

I feel like I somehow manifested this for myself. The last two years have been a whole lot of snow, fluffy socks, cups of tea, healing and becoming best friends with old friends. I feel so incredibly fortunate to be living this life. To live in a city I genuinely love, to have a partner, friends who feel like family, a warm home, the ability to work and live freely. 

This morning we woke up in our friend’s home, had chai and kuzhi-paniyaram, and settled into the ease of conversation while it continued to snow outside. My heart felt so full. 

It’s a weird feeling to feel so satisfied in a world that’s so unfair. Every day I play dodgeball with all the countless emotions that come hurtling at me. In a world where families are literally being crushed, we’re still unable to do enough to stop a catastrophe. All the strongest countries and the powers that be, where is everyone? Why can’t we seem to stop a humanitarian crisis that’s been going on for over two months?

There’s grief, there’s anger, there’s disbelief. There’s a heart that’s constantly breaking. There’s guilt, and loneliness because people don’t seem to even want to talk about this. And then there’s relief, there’s peace, there’s gratitude and joy. There’s hope. There’s love. All of them have formed a dizzying maelstrom within me. 

And I just… chug along. Go through the motions, ask myself questions I don’t have answers to. Enjoy a meal, laugh freely, watch TV in a quiet, heated apartment, get lost in a video game. But then later, sit in the train listening to a song and feel the grief coil around my heart like a black snake. There’s that sorrow again. Tears sting my eyes. I can’t bear to see what’s unfolding on my screen. Helplessness. I say a small prayer to a god I don’t believe in. 

There are chores to be done, meetings to be attended, a life to be lived. So I walk around like a character in a video game, a bit dazed and confused, wondering how it’s possible to feel peace and grief at the same time. 

Tomorrow, we fly to meet my sister’s family in London. Even saying these words feels surreal. What a life. I love this feeling: the Christmassy, end-of-the-year, holiday feeling, when you can shut your laptop with joyous finality, and welcome a new year. And a new year means new possibilities, new beginnings. 

Since stating my wishes in my previous post had worked, I want to state a few more. 

I dream of a world where the term ‘genocide’ doesn’t exist. I wish for more broken egos, and fewer broken hearts. I want tears to be replaced by flowers, anger by forgiveness, screams by songs. I dream for the end of pride and greed. I dream of hearts, hugs, and love. I dream of collective healing. I dream of peace. I dream of peace. I dream of peace. 

In a world where I don’t believe in much, I believe in the goodness of us humans. I want to believe—stubbornly—that love and truth shall prevail.

Happy new year, dear reader. Thank you for being here.

P.S. Here’s my new favourite song that always reminds me of winter mornings and snow.