I hope 2024 will be a good or better year. Peace on earth, friendlier weather, people-centric governments, equitable social and economic growth, and all that. Ok is also alright. If the new year’s generic wishes for good health, happiness, successes, steady/true friendships/relationships and fun holidays are somewhat realised or enjoyed by one and all.

Good health. My benchmark these days is getting out of bed without a hobble, and attending to my own personal care. Arthritis, migraine, tinnitus, haemorrhoids, aches and pains, I’ve resigned to accept and cope with bar any discoveries of new and/or alarming diseases. And, if there are additions. Ah well… it is what it is.

Oodles of happiness. I like oodles of all things joyful. All the time. There is this famous line from an 1842 poem, “Into each life some rain must fall,” meaning that everyone will experience difficulty and heartache at some point[1]. I don’t disagree. I’ve had/have a fair share of sadness and grief in my life. 2023 was particularly hard with brother number 1’s passing. But it’s the amount and prevalence, the world over, that’s sad and disappointing. Which might explain why I’ve been watching soppy but predictable happy-ending holiday movies, back-to-back, on Netflix. Oodles I want but quiet contentment is also ok. 

Many successes. I’m not in the market to buy a company, grow it and make money. Although I like reading about mergers and acquisitions. I’m not vying for a promotion or hoping for a big jump in salary. My successes are goals, only meaningful to me, achieved daily and weekly. Each day that my mum is well is a success to me. By well, I mean, she is eating, sleeping, walking a little with assistance, reading and watching her TV serials, taking her medicines and bowel movement. Of the list, going to the toilet is the most important. An unmentionable topic until now. I know… such is my current state of being.

It decides the tone of the/my day. My mum goes. Ka-ching. Success. Otherwise, it’s on me to resolve her elimination issues. Thankfully, I/we have found a component to her successful breakthrough. ‘Idli and dhal.’ Yes! A combination that my mum loves to have for dinner, and it works. I used to do the ‘idli run’ to Saravana Bhavan in KLCC every two days, until sister number 3 arrived. She was home in November for Deepavali. Before she left, she showed/taught me how to cook/steam ‘idli.’ I made my first batch of 12 ‘idlis’ last Wednesday. They looked the part but were a little hard. ‘Idli’ alone doesn’t cut it. My mum also has papaya, banana and prunes with milk and honey for breakfast, and rice and/or noodles with curry and vegetables for lunch. Plus, Duphalac twice a day. Yes, it’s gross. Also mundane. But so pertinent to my mum’s health, and my mental wellbeing/sanity.

A story a week is my personal measure of success. Regardless of what the week was/is like, I write because I like to. I want to. When it’s difficult to think of what to write, my headspace seems more murky at the moment, I still soldier on. I nudge myself because I don’t want to break the continuity. In a strange way, a pause in writing feels like a failing. Until last Thursday, I had no clue what to write. I started with a ramble…

Real relationships. Quality over quantity. This has been/is a long and convoluted learning curve for me. Recognising the genuine, the fakes, the talkers and the toxics. I will make time for people I love and care for, and try my hardest to avoid/delete the fakes/talkers/toxics from my headspace and life. Zap. Zap. Begone.

Holidays. A nice to have. My husband and I have our own travel restrictions – my mum. Poor old girl. Through no fault of hers, she needs 24×7 care and support. Yes, we have Kalyani…who by the way has to have time/days off too – to recharge. We cannot be ambitious, and plan for overseas holidays. We can, however, try to fit in two or three nights away from KL. We like living in the city. But it has far too many people, vehicles, and buildings. To appreciate the city for its buzz and access to restaurants, shops, and amenities, we will go to some place different, quieter, and less polluted. It will be a short respite/refresh but it’ll be ok for now.

Gratefully, my husband and I have had long and faraway holidays over the years. We saved. We planned. We went. We enjoyed. We gave up work a few times to travel. Came back, and picked up where we left off. It wasn’t always easy. Still, we unanimously agree that it was better to have gallivanted than not.

I’m not holding out for much this year. I’m good with OK.