thaumaturgy

I really should be working right now. But it's been a beautiful weekend and there's still a few hours of a graceful Sunday left and I am in my balcony and things are just so in place. So I shall, instead, post this piece that I started a few evenings ago, after returning from a nice jog around the river.

I am happily committed. To Boston. And by Boston, I don't snootily mean only that tiny city on the "right" side of the river. I mean Boston and the surrounding areas - everything that I associate with when I use the name "Boston" in the context of my life.

It's an arranged marriage, of course. It wasn't like I fell in love at first sight. Or that I liked it more and more every time I saw it and counted days for our next meeting until I couldn't stay apart any more and had to move here. No, nothing so romantic. In fact, it was a marriage of convenience. I had a job here. It offered security and contentment - a completely materialistic decision. I was here only once : for the interview which was mostly business-like with some small talk. The job seemed good, the people seemed nice and the pay was good. It was settled. I picked a day, packed my bags, bid my friends good bye and moved here.

I didn't like it here, initially. I missed my home (or rather, my previous home 'cause, like any true immigrant, I now have many homes), my people . Everything felt strange and cold and I didn't fit in. Now, after four years, everything is different. It isn't New York - it's not the foolish, overwhelming, all consuming passion of the youngest years. It's not wisely beautiful and filled with quiet grace like a couple in their 25th year of marriage - not Chicago, not Northern California. It's not indifferent - not New Jersey or San Jose. It is Boston. My Boston. Happily busy, preoccupied, whimsical yet very real and affectionate. It is that stage of a marriage, after the teething troubles and growing pains - when you know that there is a ways to go but you are in no hurry to get there 'cause things are pretty good right here. When you know him and he knows you and you can laugh and fight and even do both at the same time.

Just like any arranged marriage, of course, it took everything and everyone to make it work. Space to be my own person, to learn, to grow - provided by the anonymity of a new city and distance from home. The family of friends, colleagues and acquaintances - their wisdom and acceptance. Patience, lack of other options ( :-) ) and all those days in between.

The quiet of a still winter day, the precious white blanket of snow on every little surface, the stifling feel of a muggy summer day, the gratefulness that spring inspires and the radiance of Fall. The lovely breeze off Charles after/during a run and the stunning array of colors looking down from Mt.Wachusett. The emotion of watching marathoners smile through pain as they cross the finish line. Warm apple cider and cosy cafes. The schools, the students, the enthusiasm and the possibilities. All those possibilities and futures. So many moods and shades. True, the marriage has also changed me, jaded me a little and made me a little more cynical in parts. It's shown me more of the world. Where it has opened up my horizons to new places and new people, it has shown me the not-so-pretty side of life. The home less, the dirt, the attitude - and yes, the crazy pedestrians! :-) It has shaken some beliefs : replaced some unquestioning faith with a shaky, but more accepting, world view. Shown me how short-lived some happiness can be and taught me the importance of truly living in the moment. I guess it has made me wiser.

So today, finally after 4 years and 4 months, I can say that I am happily married. Or maybe, like the after effects of that other strenuous activity, it is my post-run endorphins talking :-)

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