Christmas Truce and 2017

There are fireworks going about as I write this. I, quite in a muddled-headed manner, had forgotten, every now and then that it was New Year’s Eve – just every now and then. I did not entirely forget and I did remember a few central matters. And I remember, quite clearly, the previous New Year’s Eve’ (and that did not just happen in my head – Professor Dumbledore!). In fact, I had been grinning about the same while out on a walk in the evening…so maybe my own subliminal worries about progressive dementia are unfounded.

I remember my best friend saying that the German language is a language that is beautiful to the ears (he used different words) – I don’t quite remember when exactly that was though. I remember – well let’s say I remember a little more but I do know that I can now never again call the German language only a marching and military and merely peremptory language after chancing upon this.

The carol is my all-time favourite. But I had never before heard the German version. And that led me to glance through the comment-section. It is peculiar how memories are stored in the mind and forgotten and then retrieved. I sometimes think that psychologists – no matter how many studies they conduct on human memories (among other matters) – should do lots more studies. And I keep wishing the psychologists “good luck”.

I was reminded of the story I had first heard when I could not have been older than 8 – about The Christmas Truce during World War I. But I had forgotten all about it through the passing years. It is not that I have not thought about or worried or brooded over war and given the two Wars, WWII and even the Cold War had always stuck into me far more until I was over 26 – but the Christmas Truce! It is not only about war and killing and loss of life and meaninglessness and the utterly ridiculous nature of war per se – although of course one cannot miss any of that – but it is about a bit of hope and faith and camaraderie and comradeship and even the bare hints of possible friendship across fire-lines and in the bleakest of times. And given that I am an obsessed creature (I have had to finally accept my best friend and Fimh’s judgment on the matter of being obsessed) – I sort of hunted about. Anyone who is interested can go to the Wikipedia page of course. Here is a link of a Sainsbury grocery stores ad – a recreation of what "may-have-transpired" during Christmas 1914.

And it is very soon to be 2018. And we are still here. Human beings, animals, other life-forms, the environment, and our planet – we are here. Humanity is here and we, even in individual or shared spots manage to touch bliss – well, maybe in our minds and for bits of time in the virtual and real world. So maybe it is not a bad thing to keep one's faith and hope alive, and to believe in God – whatever one's conception of God might be. Beats many of the things that are currently viewed to be "better" or "progressive" or "holy" or "developed". 

I think I will go back to reading the interesting, perplexing and even (pleasantly) infuriating book I had been before this post becomes longer than a mile. Wishing you a happy year ahead.

A Poem by Nicki Giovanni

I read a poem by Nicki Giovanni (1943-) sometime this year – I forget when – which runs as follows:

Some people forget that love is

tucking you in and kissing you

“Good night”

no matter how young or old you are.

Some people don’t remember that

love is

listening and laughing

and asking

questions

no matter what your age.

Few recognize that love is

commitment, responsibility,

and no fun

at all

unless

Love is

You and me.

I keep wanting to add something here or there but somehow the poem sort of captures in snapshots of deft images of what I have long felt and still feel – in essence – even though I can’t, sadly enough, say that I have been able to fulfill all the points.

It is Christmas Eve’ and I shall go and make some coffee and listen to a few carols and look outwards and inwards for a little bit and take a walk. I have been sitting hunched over, typing and editing and framing word documents for almost the whole weekend, barring a few delightful moments upon unexpected mini phone-calls. I didn’t even notice when dusk approached and twilight descended. Now it feels like a dark and rather silent winter night outside. I can almost see the soft snow covering the ground and feel the blue, crisp air but that is my imagination running away.

Merry Christmas and a lovely New Year to my loved ones – Fimh included.