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Acknowledging privilege
Books
I am a numbers person.
And while one might feel that it sucks the joy out of everything, for me it’s just a manner to stay on track, and (a tad) in control. Which is why I have been setting a reading target every year for a while now.
I opened Goodreads to check and my first challenge was back in 2019 – when I read 40 books. I upped this to 50 in 2020, and while my progress and the year sucked pretty soon, I actually managed to meet the target by the end of the year. Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, 2021 and 2022 were not very successful, and I partly blame work, a new role and general reshuffling of priorities that caused it.
I started 2023 pretty enthusiastically, and was always lagging a bit, but made up for all of it by the end, with a grand total of 50 books (again), none of which were cheat books, which I mean short filler books, or comics to make up for lost time. I struggled considerably in November and December, to make up for all the lag while trying not to sink in the professional duties. But all’s well that ends well and I closed a good 2 days before New Year’s eve.
Now, I have seemingly lost my mojo again. I can blame it on the work yet again, and we all know January was not the start of a new year this time. And honestly I thought giving myself that leeway would eventually gear me up for some reads. Unfortunately, it hasn’t. At least not as yet. And I am trying hard to not beat myself up for it, but what do you do when you choose to pick up the remote and start watching an episode of Virgin River which has been going on for a month (yes, that boring), over a book you have read 50 pages into, and which so far seems a pretty promising read? That clearly is choosing mindless over useful yes? Well – Priorities, priorities.
For now, I am sharing a snapshot of the books I read last year, most of which I enjoyed. I also managed some short reviews on Instagram – mostly of books I either loved or realized weren’t my cup of tea. For now, I will bask in the glory of the beautiful stories that helped make 2023 good, and hope I find more of them in 2024, whenever it is.
Thoughts at forty (one)
This is a cheat post, because I wrote this back in October of last year, and published it elsewhere (don’t ask me why). There was still a month to go for my birthday to arrive, so I guess I took specific pleasure in calling myself a 40 year old, before the inevitable happened and I turned a year older. Anyway, fact is that there is absolutely no change in how I feel, so everything stays relevant.
When I turned 40, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I was hit by the whole ‘life’s passing way too fast’ feeling. It is very interesting how it actually took a number for me to start feeling this way. Age, they say, is just a number; but turns out, it is a fairly powerful number after all.
I have spent quite some time wondering about whether I am afraid of growing older, or death, which is the obvious next step to time passing. But turns out that’s not the case. And I think I have an answer to what is causing this misery.
Having reached 40, I have now officially lived through a large number of life experiences that everyone (ok, most of us) dream of having. Childhood is a thing of the past, and the more far away you are from it, the more amazing the days of no-care seem to have been. Youth is also gone, and with it are gone most of the firsts, first love, first heartbreak, getting married, your firstborn. The 30s had that element of moving ahead in life, more superficially than anything, but still big strides — your dream home, your big car, your fancy holidays, professional growth.
Which is probably why 40 seems like the end of things. And more often than not you’re left wondering what we are working towards now? The hard work, the efforts that have gone into building up this life are now just a part of it. Yes, you will now see your children grow into independent adults with lives of their own soon, which while beautiful, only means that they too will slowly move away.
And that’s the feeling I’m trying to understand, and absorb. Yes, a big part of life is now in the past, but there are things to look forward to in future too. Maybe not as flashy, not as large-scale, but there will be smaller things, more peaceful experiences that are yet to come.
So now that we’ve spent the last 4 decades building what seems like the good life, we’ll spend the next few actually living it.
New year’s (almost) here!
No, your reader hasn’t delayed this post. And no, I didn’t forget to hit publish last month. Fact is, I had decided right at the beginning of January, that I’d be writing this month off. Deleting it. Refusing to give it the ‘first month of a brand new year’ status. Which is why, for me, New year starts tomorrow. So wish you all a happy new year in advance you guys!
As someone from the Finance world, January, the beginning of a new year, has always been defined as the ‘year-end’ month. Closing the books for the year, and then preparing to pull together all that we’d need to close the books for the first month of the new year with all it’s changes and updates. Not a nice feeling. Practically kills the excitement that a new anything brings along.
The only plus however used to be December. Happy times in our city start around September when the first huge festival of the year – Ganesh Chaturthi – happens, and then it gets better and better – with the Dude’s birthday in the same month, then Dussehra, Zo’s birthday, Diwali, Halloween (this is a special mention for Zo and her over-excited friends. This year, she said – it’s not about the candy, it’s about the costumes and dressing up. And right there I knew, my baby is now a legit tween. Sob.), my birthday, thanksgiving, and then – December. Oh, December. That whole month is a vibe in itself. It’s like awesome things keep coming one after the other and then they close in this final explosion of a month – December. Everything – the weather, the lights, year-end lunches and dinners, everything is just awesome, and nothing, including that January comes right after, can dampen this feeling.
But this year, December sucked. Not getting into too much detail – let’s just say – there was no holiday, which meant there was no way the beautiful weather or any of the items mentioned above in such detail could be enjoyed. It was just a terrible terrible month, saved only by the fact there was a short break at New Year’s because it was on the damn weekend. Otherwise, it plain sucked.
Turns out, while you always suffer in January, the high from December sort of carries you through. Only this year, that high was so deep down in the lows that January only buried me down further, and I am still trying to claw my way out of the depths of business reviews and operating plans and restatements and terminology that has become part of my blood and veins in the 19 years I have spent working.
Which brings me back to my original point of the post. New Year is finally (hopefully) here. As we close this month which I believe has been hanging in limbo, not really end of 2023 and definitely not the beginning of 2024, I am hoping tomorrow and thereafter have better things in store for me.
And for you. But I get to have just 11 months in this year so I need it more.
Alive and kicking (with low intensity)
Every time I log in to my RSS feed, I am left wondering who even blogs anymore. Fact is, very few do. I think I have a 100+ subscriptions on my reader, and at most 5 of them have updated anything since I visited last around 3 months ago. So yes, hardly anyone seems to have the time or inclination to spend time writing lengthy posts, or even short ones, anymore.
But I can’t get myself to stop checking the ones who do, or even checking in to see if someone has returned. This place was such a revelation for me when it started. The whole blog-verse. So many people, so many things, so many topics. So many relatable anecdotes, phases, stages, moments that we have virtually shared with folks we’ll probably never even meet or see. Yes, I’ve been fortunate to meet a few, and definitely see a few more – thanks to the eventual movement to Facebook, and now Instagram, but there are still so many of them who remain names, pen-names – whose selected stories you know, but nothing more.
Instagram is fun, but it is just not the same. Quantity is seemingly king, content is so, so pretty, but it’s usually just that – pretty. There are far and few accounts that have sort of synced their love for words somehow with this otherwise more visual medium, but they are so famous, with such varied audience, that the concept interacting with them, how much ever you can relate, is practically impossible. So you are left mesmerized with the pages, but always from a distance.
So, in conclusion, I am having one of those ‘I-miss-blogs’ episodes. And hence the rant. Also, for all the complaining, I am personally as guilty of hardly updating this page, which has now been in existence for – wait for it – 20 years! I mean, a couple of months to go, but just imagine anyway.
Also goes to say how much older I am and how much older I feel. Mom to an ‘almost-teen’, already a year since I hit the big FOUR-OH, almost 2 decades of corporate slavery, creakier knees, back-aches from sleeping wrong, a sluggish metabolism that won’t budge, reading glasses – I have it all! And a small bit of all that time captured out here. Very small. Tiny even. But still worth it.
And that's what it's all about 