None of These I Imagined Possible

"You can just drop me off, I'm almost seven now." I wasn't driving, and I would have been grateful do walk him inside the school. He shooed me off and I felt even more grateful.

I'm just guessing, but in the glare of her eyes, something tells me that she is receptive to everything I am reading to her. The way she waves when I say hi, the she assures me that she can hear and she is listening.

And D., the she makes me love even what I thought I despised. Okra tastes feels like eating spit, I told her once. But now I enjoy the crunch and the texture and the way it pairs with rice and seaweed. What a delicious sight she is, always. How kind she is, how infinitely beautiful.

How easily did I ward off the stress when I ran a short 7k on the treadmill. I jumped into my well, and just as quickly I warp-zoned to the beach with DJ Tiesto blaring at my ears through bluetooth earphones. Running is a way of forgiving yourself.

When the internet went down for my evening classes, I ran back to my parents. I even slid in a drink or two with my brothers, and my father.

I often let everything just pass without pondering. But all these happened in one day, and none of it, many years back, was something I would have imagined as possible.

A little after midnight, I washed the dishes. Then I was never alone.

Who Have I Become Now?

After many years. I still say, the world crumbles beneath our feet. It's probably the worst year in politics. Oh, poor human race. It's another hottest recorded year of a doomed planet. While Satan's practically poking us with pitch forks, we put on the rose colored glasses and turn to the bright side. 2016 was:

the year I quit my job of 10.5 years and found a new one
the year I supported D. (best I can) in the final two trimesters of pregnancy
the year V. was born

the year I had the most money (and still kept most of it)

the drive-my-kid-to-school-everyday year.
the coffee shop, books, music and TV series year

After many new years, I finally stopped asking, who am I? Just who have I become now?

A once-in-a-while-runner, online worker, husband and father, who almost never wears long pants and leather shoes. A man who has streaks of occasional brilliance.

For a long time now, I've cleansed myself of perceptions that I am some great man. People never really grow up. We never discover who we truly are.  But I still want the world to change. Every year, I feel more compelled to uphold what is right.

We hit our walls, the earth crumbling beneath our feet, and we keep running.

We and our silly ways.