What a spectacular year it has been! 366 action-packed days of fun, frolic, laughter, joy, and not to forget, introspection! Never in my past have I been able to rejoice so audibly. Yet another year has come to a scintillating close, and the new year is reminiscent of new hopes and new dreams. The time has indeed come to revel.
So, so, just where do I begin?
The year began quite optimistically by me slipping, falling and bruising my knee, mentioning nothing about the harsh elbow scrape that I was awarded. This was on January 1 2004, when the whole of Vancouver was abound with snow. 366 long and arduous days have gone by, and yet this day seems so close, so finitely far away. Cliché yes, but time indeed runs fast.
Of course, falling is nothing new to us. We have all fallen—both literally and figuratively—many a time, but have never failed to get up once. Man has himself been constantly getting up since the pre-historic times, and I was fortunate to learn this lesson when I saw all four people do exactly the same body gesture while trying to pantomime 'evolution' during dumb charades. It was quite the revelation there. (NB: Kelsey)
But I'm off on a tangent once again. Let's get on track, thank you. 2004 has extended across the two most action-packed years of a high school student: grades 11 and 12. Far too many things have happened at school which have each had a direct influence on me. The International Baccalaureate has had a tremendous effect on me and the way I study and perceive education. I have come across some ingenious teachers whose dedication to their respective fields baffles me till this date. Inspirations were drawn, and who knows, if I ever turn out to become an instructor some day, I'll know whom to blame.
So, we've had the Greek Olympics, we've had football tournaments, we've had presidents being re-elected, but you see, these are matters of little or no consequence when juxtaposed with the grand picture. Perhaps something that did have a noticeable impact on me was moving into our own little home early in February. This vicissitude in my life, I believe, deserves some words.
Moving into your own home is always an excitement that can never be placed in the déjà senti category. Moving into your own little home is undoubtedly an experience unparalleled. No matter how many houses you take up for rent, being able to put your feet on land (that you can stipulate with your father) is yours is like adding salt, ginger, cardamom and vinegar to your Russian salad—it spices it all up. Don't you ever wonder why Armstrong didn't quite feel at home when he was up on the moon? It's for the same reason.
It was a house to begin with—inanimate, intangible, lacking emotion, etc. It was like holding a newly born baby in your arms—you know you're supposed to love him, caress him and be affectionate towards him, but you can't quite connect. Fortunately however, the house was quickly transformed into a home in just a matter of months. I abhor clichés in my writings, but there definitely is no place like home.
Immediately after shifting, I founded RK Labs that later turned out to become my study. This lab is very different from conventional labs in that no experiments are conducted here (with one noteworthy exception where I endeavored to learn what happened when you squashed a domestic spider that has a fondness for making you sneeze). It is, with all due respect, the very room where I sit and type this lovely journal of mine. It is also—after come quick mathematics in my head—where I've spent half of my life the year previous.
You know, I must tell you more about my room. Its walls are exquisite; no it holds neither tapestries nor ancient murals but beautiful Winnie the Pooh wallpapers! I later realized that the word 'hunny' had intentionally been spelt wrong. See how naïve I am? I am (or my walls are) soon going to be the object of envy among my friends (NB: Angela, Nadia). And yes, it has a lustrous pink painted below and a bleak blue that tries to copy the sky. Indeed the perfect setting for a virile Grade 12 to be in!
So what does all this have to do with 2004, you may rightfully ask. Although our home didn't come attached with a royal penthouse where guests could come flocking to have dinner with us, it did burgeon to become one among my many different cynosures nonetheless. The atmosphere at home conspicuously reflects the atmosphere you will put yourself into outside of home: If you've had even the remotest acquaintance with me, I'm sure you will have observed this phenomenon. RK Labs became a breeding ground for, not mosquitoes, but ideas. Lovely, refreshing ideas. I began to dare to think outside the conventional bounds that were set for me, and this in itself is a point in success.
Just for the record, 2004 was a year when I voyaged out into the countryside for the first time. That was Victoria. 2004 was the year when I attended the IB World Music symposium—there I learned to belly dance (gasp!), and I learned how profound spiritual music can get. All the spirituals that I had heard in the past—which comprised of a set of confusing and cacophonic riddling rhymes and rhythms—came crumbling down in front of this simple, soft and meaningful music that flowed out of this wonderful gentleman's mouth. His name, sadly, I cannot recollect at the moment. (NB: Andrei?)
2004, without much fanfare, was the year when I swore myself to a soul-weakening 3 hours of television a month. I resolved to also rid myself of (pardon profanity) MSN Messenger for good. I couldn't have made a better resolution all my life. La MSN, or just plain instant messaging in general, is the demon (think FreeBSD's mascot) that has the potential to take over your sophisticated workshop. Or so I was told. I had been constantly pressed for time for nearly four ever-lasting years, and with these two—outrageous for some, but elegant for me—resolutions, I was able to swiftly overcome my inadequacy. Ah, the felicity! Man, those self-development books actually contain suggestions that work! It was almost as if my wall clock sprouted a pair of arms and gave itself another six roman numerals to add to a grand total of 36 hours a day!
Epiphany. What an exuberant word, I must confess! Too bad I hadn't heard of it until this very year. I experienced it twice during the year, and both times I felt like an agnostic who had come to realize the existence of God. A never-ending sense of satisfaction, a grandiose revelation unfathomable, a bearable poignancy that keeps you afloat in mid-air, an inexplicable pleasure that culminates to put you in a state of bliss. Your mind dives head-first into an azureous oblivion, your intellect manifests itself as a malleable and lucid structure permitting it to get promoted to the higher ranks, and of course, you are never again the same. Ah, the joy of it all. It was as if all the problems of the world had been solved and placed in front of you as a penny. My fatigues, for a moment, ran away from me like a swarm of bees attempting to exit a hive through a single opening. Each epiphany in your life is like a checkpoint, a milestone on this terrific highway I call my time-line. I am yet to come across a word that has had a tantamount impact.
Before we close the curtains for this awesome year that has been 2004, let's wrap up with these thought-provoking words by Shakespeare that I try to remember each year.
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.
Here's to great students. Wish me luck in my future endeavours!
-- Rajesh Kumar
31 December 2004