2020 in review: The year showed us what we truly are

‘Really?”, my friend on my school WhatsApp group wrote, “you let her hug you?”, she asked with a shocked emoticon. I am not surprised. Ever since the beginning of this year, when the world went into madness, I turned inward. I stayed away from people. My personal bubble bloomed to a huge looming sphere and I smiled at everyone from a distance. That was not all.

“Isn’t it a bit extreme?”, some people asked. “How much is too much?’, I asked in my defence. I scrubbed and cleaned, disinfected surfaces and hands, and stayed home. I did all of this methodically like a manic germaphobe. It calmed my nerves, soothed my brain because it was there for three weeks. Little did I know then that, this short sprint would chug like a marathon — a run that doesn’t seem to have a finish line any time soon.

The thing about marathons is — it is an endurance test. We move slowly, work our way through, endure the pain, anxiety, overcome mental blocks and go on because we all know that it is only that much long. But, this marathon of 2020 with no sight of the final ribbon that can flash on my chest as my winning sign has deepened scars and has exhumed ugly fears. I rummage through pictures, relive moments of laughter because scars need healing, wounds need balm.

This time last year — somewhere near the historical fort of Golconda, our extended family met. We drummed, we danced in car parks, we sang our heart out — simply because, that is what families do. Then, on the eve of the New Year, we all gathered in one small room — about thirty of us.

We occupied the couch, the small bed, some of us leant on the window sill and the others simply sat on the floor. We ate anything that was passed around, we clapped, we hugged and we high-fived without a care. When the clock struck the dot, we screamed and kissed.

Now, thousands of miles away, as I sit alone on a long dining table sipping on a cup of hot tea, I think of that single evening. Just the picture in my head echoes the one truth that we shy away from — “so many people in one room”. But, that is what this year has taught — the year that went by, the days of loneliness, the hours of anxiety — that time has a strange way of passing by without us ever knowing it.

This year has given us the gift of watching the clock tick by and appreciate the moment that has been lived. Even for a person like me, who thought, ‘I have figured it all out about mindful living’. Yes — I am those privileged few, who have battled a health scare, who has seen death — up close and who understands that we always have to tell people we care that we love them deeply.

Yet, I have wondered many evenings if I have told them enough. Have I told my friends that I value their time? Have I hugged my parents enough? Do I remember their warm touch against my skin? It is at these moments that my heart craves to go back into that tightly packed room and feel everyone around me one more time.

It is this moment that I wonder for the millionth time — “Have I really figured it all out?” It is at this moment that I know that, no matter how long we spend knowing that we know our hearts well and we have spent our time wisely that, it is truly never enough. We are but human.

We will never truly figure it out. It is at this moment that my heart takes over my mind and I drop my guard because human touch is important. I long for physical closeness. I burst my bubble for that one tiny moment to feel the person next to me and smile gratefully that I need this.

It is my weakest moment — my most vulnerable self. It is this that I gifted myself for my birthday. Naturally, when I read the message from my friend, I texted her back, “Yes, it is my birthday gift to myself — simple human touch”. Really, we take so many things for granted. Year 2020 — the year that was, showed us what we truly are. We are humans.

— Sudha Subramanian is an author and writer based in Dubai. Twitter: @sudhasubraman