Letting Go

Been thinking of updating the blog for quite some time now. What was once intended to be a weekly or at least monthly blogging endeavour has evolved into a biannual affair. Nevertheless, this year has been one of introspection, giving me plenty of opportunities to think things through, and even start coping with certain experiences. Healthy mechanisms or unhealthy ones, the important thing is we are coping.  

Last week, we sold off our Maruti 800. It is as old as I am and was my parents' first joint purchase (except for me of course). Everyone in the entire extended family has been on hundreds of road trips in this thing. 800 was the first car in the family, and has witnessed everything - it has seen me grow up, my cousins grow up, even my aunts growing up, getting married and starting families. We all cherished it even though the entire dashboard stopped working around ten years ago and the engine began to have troubles to the point where we often had to embarrassingly push it to the closest mechanic. We had been considering selling it off for long but were unable to, because, you know, nostalgia and memories and whatnot. But everything good must come to an end. So, on a lovely Thursday morning, the buyers arrived, performed a little pooja, had my mother sprinkle water on the car's tyres, and then drove off with it. No one sobbed, although my dad appeared to be sad for quite some time. After 22 years of faithful devotion the car had for us, I suppose we should have shed a few tears.

Last June, I cut off my best friend of 22 years. Because of our one-month age difference and the fact that she was my cousin, we were inseparable as soon as we became aware of one another. We did share every high and low together, though I wouldn't dare admit it since it sounds corny (I might or might not be cooler than that). Even when I went off to Delhi, whenever I would come home, I made it a point to go see her wherever she was, because going back without seeing her at that point seemed inconceivable. Not going into details about what conspired, but I had to cut her off. I ended our last conversation with our usual heart emoji and deleted her number. That was the end of the 22-year-old relationship. Unlike the car, there was no closure in this scenario. Every time I think of it, my heart sinks to a new bottom I do not believe is possible.

I've never been good at letting go of people. Even things for that matter. I have kept almost every letter I ever exchanged with the said friend. I have kept memorabilia of crushes from years ago. I never thought we would get rid of the 800 - I always envisioned it in a corner of our old garage or donated to some museum. I tried to maintain friendships and ties in school and after until the other person got bored and left. I've become better at letting go now - it's painful, but I'm growing used to it. I may also have to accept the possibility that I'll never be able to put some things to rest. It may seem difficult now, but perhaps when I reflect back on it someday, I won't feel like curling up into a ball and sinking into the ground. Maybe one day I'll learn to forgive some people in my life, and attempt to get closure myself. But until then, cutting people off without closure it is.