season's greetings

Every year without fail, for the past five or so years anyway, the year end has been a flurry of activity.

It starts in September with m's birthday, when I re-establish fading contact with friends. The process leading to the big party is preceded by a flurry of house cleaning where old, lost and given up for bermuda triangle objects resurface, adding to the celebratory mood. The usually good fun party is followed by plans to meet up with the rediscovered friends. Also by much head-shaking about how we should have done this way sooner...

Then October rolls along with little n's birthday. When family visits en masse for a chaotic week or so. Multiple shopping trips, multiple cake cutting evenings, and enough grandparents to make the head spin. Presents, presents as far as the eye can see...

Then in November, there's Divali. Our one and only family tradition, our one time of joining in the festivities. Ropes of flashing lights twisted on to the balcony railing, diya candles at the doorstep, traditional mithai both Bong and Tam. And we discover our neighbours. Togged out in saree and tiny Fabindia kurta respectively, we visit people who've thus far been nodding aquaintances, people we exchange pleasantries with in the lift. And discover they're actually pretty nice. Yet again, we should have done this a long time ago...

And then, in December, Christmas of course, but the highlight is the new Year's Eve party with m's closest friends who happen to be my relatives, and are now little n's 'bestest friends'. There's usually a bit of a sad tinge to it all - who knows where we will all be next year at this time, this might be the last one all together like this...

And sure enough, come January, we're all packed up. relocating to another city. But the same cycle repeats. The more things change, the more we try to create a sense of sameness. A sense of home.