If you're sappy and you know it

2 years ago, on this date, I came home from a 5 day long hospitalization. I had burst my appendix and it had been a harrowing experience. I was in a new country, surrounded by people I didn't know, dealing with a medical system I couldn't make head or tail of. To say the least, it was frustrating. I am not ashamed to accept the fact that I missed my mum and I needed her more than life itself.

Looking back, it was also the experience that defined my MBA experience. As I lay on the bathroom floor, unable to stand and writhing in agony, I called all my neighbors. Understandably, at 4 am, all of them were asleep. Taking a chance, I called my friend who lived in the building next to mine. 2 rings, hello? All I could manage was a guttural scream that was somehow meant to translate to 'Help!'. Miraculously she understood.

For the next five days, I was shown the kind of friendship that usually comes with familiarity. But there I was, surrounded by people I was only getting to know. Somehow, in those 5 days, I formed a bond with strangers in roles that they will continue to essay 2 years later (give or take a few people). I don't know if any of my friendships would've looked like this if it wasn't for me not realizing my appendix had burst, and so in some dark twisted way, I'm thankful.

But I'm more thankful for my crazies. I promise this is the limit of me being sappy but here goes:
Anisha, no one in this world is a better companion than you for checking out hot docs and I still appreciate the goody bag that let me cleanup for them pretty ones

Tanvi, I remember chewing your ears off about some saga or the other. Who knew, 2 years later, I would be doing the same. This time over khichadi though. You do make the best khichadi ever!

Sneha, thank you for taking my call at 4 am. And even more, for sitting at the hospital with me while they tried to figure out what went wrong

Puneet, you're going to be my fake boyfriend and favorite dance partner for life. Enough said!

Ani: For always being around! Didn’t matter if I was venting, just needed to feel safe, be a drunken mess, or most importantly, needed sushi. Chicago doesn’t absolve you. I’ll be around forever

And Preetha, you were nothing less than a mommy to me. From taking care of my timely medication to helping me go through daily ablutions, you were a rockstar! And I'm glad you've chosen to play that role consistently since then! You truly are my heart!

To the people who visited, I am also very thankful for your friendship. For the fact that you took time out of what really was a busy term, to come spend time with me, hold my hand as I fussed, and help me walk with my IV pole. Okay, maybe not the last one because I'm sure as hell that was more entertaining for you than it was for me.

If you're happy and you know it....

“…But, are you happy?”

It was during one of my daily catch up calls with my mother that she digressed from our standard script. She didn’t want to know what I ate, or what time I woke up and if I did my PT. It was one of those catch ups where my mother abruptly interrupted my tirade of irrelevant details with a simple question.

Thing is, I am a happy person. I, for the longest time, can’t remember not being able to look at a situation and pick something positive up from it to focus on. Even then, through my two years at Michigan, my mother has been the quickest at noticing even the slightest changes in my temperament. Be it stress, ill-health or just happiness, she’s been able to actually show me how I’m feeling, even before I have had a chance to face my own emotions. And so her question hit home, it felt, for the lack of a better word, loaded.

I was ashamed at how much importance I was giving such a simple question. I mean, she is my mother. She wasn’t trying to make me uncomfortable, she was just being my mother. So I did what I always do when stumped, I called up bae. As soon as I said the words, ‘… and then she asked me if I was happy’, her reaction was a simple ‘fuck’. Thing is, I didn’t even realize just how much she dreads the question too. It got me thinking, why were we so scared of accepting to ourselves, that we might indeed be happy? Or are we just unhappy people?

Would it be so bad if I accepted to myself that at this very minute, I am happy? I am finally looking forward and have left my past behind, exactly where it belonged. My two year old nephew’s concept of unbridled happiness was rubbing off on me, and dancing with him to random tunes and being showered with limitless love was showing me that no matter what, I was going to be okay. Life as I knew it, was pretty damn good. But would the fact that tomorrow might not be a day as good as today deter me? The fact that looking for a job 4 months after graduation is stressing me out, in effect make my assertion, that I am happy, a lie?

Truth be told, I don’t think I know how to deal with the dichotomy of my feelings. On one hand, I am more than grateful for friends and family that love and support me unconditionally, on the other, I am forever overwrought with this looming sense of failure. Or I guess what I am not saying is, I don’t know what being happy even means. I don’t know if my momentary happiness is good enough to qualify as me being happy or the fact that these are “moments” and not a stable state of existence, must mean I am unhappy. If I am indeed unhappy, what would make me happy? A kickass job, a stable relationship, a big ass house with a view or a swanky car? After I do have these, what guarantees me an eternal state of happiness? Because whom am I kidding, I know myself and I’m pretty sure I will constantly be seeking “more”. But most importantly, few things scare me more than the idea of being an unhappy person. So, as I continue this journey I believe I am on (and apparently, in control of), I would like to believe that ‘happy’ is my constant state of being, with questionable moments thrown in – exactly how I like my cake: sweet with a bitter chocolate glaze.