What is meant to be, may not be what is meant to be.

There is some connection between my life and this month. In earlier days, it used to be the month of freedom. The time when final exams were done with and for those few precious days after the exams, I did not have to study anything or think about studies and coming back home from the last exam entailed me jumping in joy. 

In more recent times, other than always being a month of changing of season (from my favourite winter to my least favourite summer), it was about love and loss and painful memory. In 2013, I fell in love with the then guy in the month of March in the Lutyen’s Delhi and then within a year (barely) of then, it broke apart. It was just two-three years after that that he got engaged to someone on almost the same date when we fell in love in this month. Of course, this only crushed me more and this month yet again became the bane of my existence. In 2020, the pandemic began in this month and continued for two years. 

So, its been a month of pain and loss and also fleeting amount of love. This year, it looks like its back to being about butterflies in the stomach and wanting to not be in office so that I can be with this person and hold his hands and subtly bump into each other and talk. 

Am I to now start liking this month again?

Maybe for the time being, it is going to be so, so..