It was a cold morning in Gurgaon this January when this picture was clicked. It was my wedding anniversary that day. We were in Gurgaon to attend a wedding. Somewhere in the hubbub of that shiny, brand new wedding, the fact that it was our anniversary was pushed to the background.
But then, I realised the beauty is the everyday. The celebration is the everyday.
We are trained to think life is made of grand moments, the peaks we chase, the milestones we celebrate. But the truth is this, our lives are an accumulation of the small every days, the ordinary days. The perfectly brewed coffee, the way sunlight warms you on a chilly day, the conversations that do not make it to social media or even memory, because they are so prosaic and so comfortable, but quietly shape who we are, who we become. For these ordinary days, there is gratitude. There is celebration.
The ordinary is not empty. It is full of meaning, if we only stop running long enough to notice. Perhaps the greatest wisdom lies here, that if we learn to love the ordinary, we might never be in want of the grand moment, the big gesture, the great celebrations.
It is the magic of the ordinary, the every day that keeps us going, that fills the warp and weft of our lives, that provides the backdrop for the few sparkles of the extraordinary that will dot it. And without the ordinary, what would the extraordinary be. Nothing. Just ordinary.
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