There is so much comfort in sadness that I have never wanted to come out of it, if I ever even knew how to. Happiness, on the other hand, is fleeting. It goes away sooner than it comes. Grief? It stays, no? Like an old memory. Like an innocent childhood dream.
Today, a random instagram post said, we tend to take care of people because it heals the part of us that needed someone to take care of us. I’ve celebrated wins of strangers, friends, and lovers alike. Having a good memory serves well on most days. I remember how Karuna always feels the most comfortable in her brown slippers. Vrish will always say he’s not hungry, but when he takes the first bite, he’ll say, “Gosh, I was so hungry.” I have to say that I’m hungry, so he can eat. Bob likes to eat something crispy with every meal. Avya feels safer after getting on multiple calls with her family whenever she goes out. When Kartikeya gets shy, he gives this cheeky little grin which could count as one of my favourite things in life. You can always make him feel a tiny bit better with fried food. Mama will love things more if they are small — If you get her a functional mini doll house, she would go bonkers. Aadu would literally trade body parts to get a sniff of chocolate. Vickey bhaiya would consider any conversation fruitful if it has a hint of philosophy in it. Bhabhi loves extra peanuts in her coconut chutney. Shelly likes to drink his tea piping hot. Elmo’s comfort snack is a banana wrapped with bread. You can always start a conversation with Kanishk and Vinayak by asking them what music they have been listening to and it would go on for days. Arpit always craves dessert after food and would totally tune you out if he’s eating biscoff anything. You can always make Ansh smile by just looking at him and smiling. He’s very easy to hate and easy to like — an anomaly.
I remember how this one person liked their morning coffee. How another wanted their shirts to be folded. or how my sister in law likes the throw to be placed on the couch. or how Mama wants her bed to be made. or how Simba will only eat if the food is hand-fed, so you have to be there, every day — twice a day to do so. I remember so much about what the world around me wants, I find it difficult to recall everything that I need. I forget the last thing I bought that wasn’t a utility, and that was bought for my pleasure. The massage chair was bought because mama complained about her back. The TV was bought because dad wanted a retirement den. On days like these, I want the world to consume me whole. or for the complexities of this gigantic life to drown me in it.
So much of life has went by trying to take care of another person, trying to make them happier, I struggle, way more than I should, to remember the last time I made space to celebrate my own tiny, little wins. It’s been extra chilly today. The world feels like a loud, loud thunder, and I, a momentary, whisper. Another day of fighting against all odds. Another day of finding the courage to get up from bed.
