It is a brumal day, and the sun has not broken still. Nothing seems to have any authority over the blinding white, foggy sky. The hills have succumbed to the winter haze, and the city is visible in parts. There is a cup of coffee on your desk. You don’t remember when you kept it there. You are sure the coffee is as cold as water by now. You stand barefoot on the wooden floor as you dress up for the day. As you pull the pullover over yourself, it occurs that although things have not happened exactly as you wanted them to, this year came through for you.
Most of your wildest dreams have come true, and so have some of your fears, but the latter is far trivial to dive into, so you let it be an afterthought and walk towards the desk. You pick up the cup of coffee and drag the curtains open. The first instance makes the room light up, even without the sun. Yes, even then. Then you sip the coffee, which tastes as you had expected, and then, you realise this is how the year has unfurled too—precisely as you wanted it to. The sun shows its face just then as if it were a nod of acknowledgement. Of course, that means nothing, and all of it is a massive coincidence, but still, it stirs in you a sort of hope that what’s to come may not be as you expect it, that things may be different than they look, that we are not always as fortunate to have things transpire per plan—as vague as it may be.
And so, with no rhyme or reason, you decide to get down and walk to the coffee shop. As you do, you notice a slight drizzle. It could just be dew, of course. You continue walking. You brave the windy weather as your scarf tries its best to not fly away, and it begins to rain. “How random things are!” You cannot believe it. “How quickly the tide of this day has changed,” you remark. “How random things are, and here I stand, with so much happiness in my heart. What else can I say about anything at all? “
You walk in and get a cup of coffee. A year is almost over. All the grace you wished for about three hundred and sixty-five days ago has made a quiet home in your heart.
A year is almost over. The world is still beautiful.