eto chaoa niye kotha jai?, 2

Dear 2024,

    Every year brings me new reasons to be happy. Every year shows me why I am not the only one around which the world is revolving around. You weren’t exceptional. Thank you for the same. 

    But unlike others, you gave me several chances to “undo” my deeds. Nevertheless, I made mistakes. I am making one even right now by not studying for the endsems. But I’ve learnt one thing: Raat jege JAM er jonne pore kichu hoyni, kintu PUMDET er ager din axis mall outing ta besh kaje diyechilo. Tai borong tai kori ja mon chay, ontoto jotodin tumi acho. This is what you taught me.

    You gifted me, metaphorically and literally, so much that I required my time to endure. I needed my time to heal. Maybe the process is still on, and on the way, I hurt people knowingly or not, but yes. I really like surprises and not all surprises are good. There have been rough patches. There have been smooth knots. And then there were things which were too good to be true. 
To the rough patches: I’ve learnt acceptance. I’ve learnt humility. Now the only thing that stops me from being invincible is something which I hope the next years will serve me with. 
To the smooth sails: thank you for teaching me transiency of the hour. 
To the things too good: don’t make me forget all the lessons I learnt when it rained. 
To all of you combined: YOU MAKE ME.

    There were a series of heinous incidents which were eye opening not only for me as an individual but as citizens of a state. I had my share of experience, taking in every ounce of essence that passively fell over me. I’m thankful of ignorance being somewhat instilled in me. Sometimes it’s a bliss, of course in a limited serve. Rest of the times, my hands were just tied. Or not long enough. 

“brilliant chhele central jail e maare mosha, tobo mukut porilo podotole haay eki dosha”

    I was ashamed.

    Let’s not talk today, about the fourth quarter, shall we? I’m yet to go deeper. For as I say, “there is more depth to anything than one can ever comprehend.” Paglagarod dekhlam, tate pagol o dekhlam.

    I don’t feel like ending. You have been brisk. You have been harsh. You’ve been like the autumn sun. I don’t know whether the following year would be kind enough to me and maybe that’s why I don’t want to let you go. But as is the rule, you’ll be in my memories and dreams, be the distant boundaries or the worldly seams. 

    I’ll always be grateful.

Yours?
Rivo.