This is the last segment of my run.
I am barely holding on, just to cross the finish line.
There’s a subtle, gradual shift from a brown, eventful autumn to slower, lazier winter days. That’s December. The colour palette in my bullet journal changes from the darker burnt sienna and ochre hues to icy blues and marbled purples. That’s December. The clouds lay low early in the morning, and rise to the top later in the day only to give way to the much wanted warm rays of the winter sun. That’s December.
Mumbai never stops experiencing the intensified heat of the sun, but December manages to change that. The cold drives away the sun late at night and at the crack of dawn, even with the omnipresent heat persisting. It ends up returning back to the people sometime around noon. The pollution makes it worse, often bringing out the unpleasant sides of people. There’s no snow either, but all of us do get to enjoy a week off towards the end of December, and that is something I am looking forward to.
I would be content even if all I get for this Christmas is a pack of washi tapes and a sticker sheet. That does remind me to buy gifts for my family too. The toughest part will be choosing one for my little brother. He’s twelve. He’s shorter than me and I’m enjoying being taller while it lasts. He is expecting a Nerf gun, but unfortunately, that surpasses the budget that I set for him. He says he’ll pay me back the extra money that it costs, but I highly doubt it. My father, on the other hand, isn’t expecting anything in return, just like my mother. That encourages me further to surprise them with gifts that they would highly appreciate.
Both my brother and I have lived down and outgrown the idea of Santa, but it allows us to give presents to our parents and sharing the joy that it brings. He believed in Santa a little longer than I did, and that relates to very strong memory of him gifting Santa back. He coloured my skateboard and painted it with acrylics, oil pastels, poster colours and every medium he could get his tiny hands on, completely vandalized it, and asked my father to give it to Santa when he stopped by our house. Of course, his intentions were pure, but the same cannot be said about the way he achieved it.
Needless to say, I never saw my skateboard again.
But December was never just about Christmas.
It was about the lazy days that helped me appreciate the beauty in my surroundings. It’s like looking at the world through a bejewelled kaleidoscope: I can only see the best parts in the people I have grown close to. It makes me appreciate the gifts I used to receive when I was younger, especially the Hannah Montana singing set that I was gifted for Christmas when I was five. Childhood was a much simpler time than now.
December watched over me when no one else would. It is the quietest yet the prettiest of all the months. December is about finding your purpose and growing as an individual. It is about finding your passion and learning about your gifts. It is about improving those gifts and nurturing them to the best of your capabilities. It allows me to be the person I look up to, and with every passing December, I feel more experienced and vulnerable than ever. It reminds me of who I wanted to be when I was younger, and the steps I must take to become them.
It gives me room to develop and bloom.
I can feel the flowers sprouting from the tips of my fingers, their roots taking over my current conscience. The bitter zephyrs will brush past my face in an attempt to make this month last longer, as I drive past all the cars on the empty road. They will make it seem like the month stretches on for longer than I can remember, but it will all be in vain. I will be remembering only what surfaces back to my conscience. Back to the roots of the flowers that I am collecting in my palms. It’s a medley of all the memories that I deem important from throughout this year, and this time, this decade.
My mother says I spend too much time with myself. She’s not wrong; it’s the doing and undoing of December. The closer I get to the end, the more I reminisce a large part of the track that I have already completed. I don’t want this to be over, but at the same time I do. December brings this conflict. It causes the seasons inside of me to change, and the emotions that come along with it. It brings back all the times I laughed heartily as well as the times I poured my heart out.
This is what December is to me.
It’s the season of change.
It’s the season of new beginnings.