Like all of you I had plans for new year. Either it will be celebrated at home with ‘A’, or at either set of parent’s place. Like a family. What I never planned was celebrating it with my-self until a thought stuck randomly. Can I spend the new year with my-self? How lovely that would be. Cuddled in my bed watching the night fog through my room window and welcoming 2021 with silence and smile. Just saying a small prayer and being content in that moment. Observing the first moments of 2021 silently stepping into our lives rather than drowning them in the loud sound of “happy New Year”.
Having spent the tumultuous 2020 with my family; enjoying the love, comfort and warmth of relationships at a time when people were drowning in the sea of aloofness, I felt immensely grateful. But this also gave rise to an itch for solitude and a few questions. Is it fine to be wanting to do so? Is it even a viable thought? Is it selfish? People crave for family and here I am wishing to be alone?
Universe, however, works in mysterious ways. I felt under the weather on the night of December 30 and have been staying put in my bed since then with mild fever, all for the want of solitude. And hurting a few people in the process too.