Sukoon

If there is a word I want 2025 to be all about, it would be “Sukoon.” Taken in its simplest form, it means peace, but the word comes with so many connotations. The beauty of it is that it means different things to different people. To some, it means peace from conflict; to others, it could mean peace within themselves.

The word conjures up a group of people with whom I can be myself. An eclectic mix of family and friends like family; sukoon is being with them. It doesn’t matter if we meet often or rarely, the important thing is that when we meet, there is a sense of tranquility that envelops us. Silences are not strained and conversations flow with ease. Sometimes, we even find ourselves completing each other’s sentences!

Over the past few years, life has become a roller coaster; not just of activities but also of emotions. I found myself swinging from highs to lows, often within the span of a few hours. One minute I was all smiles and the next a storm of tears threatened to overwhelm me. My mind was in constant turmoil of what next? What else could we do for Aarav? What if we were missing out on something? A revolutionary treatment, a new device, something, anything that would give us the miracle we have been asking for over four years.

A few months ago, Aarav had a setback in walking. Out of the blue, it seemed his left leg couldn’t take his weight. It started buckling and he became afraid to try walking. It was déjà vu all over again. We began the usual rounds of doctors, followed by a myriad of tests and investigations, all of which didn’t throw up any red flags. It was our physiotherapist who discovered the reason- a lack of certain exercises which increased muscle weakness. Thankfully, it was something that could be corrected with therapy.

I remember the day we visited the physiotherapist. After examining Aarav and telling us what the cause of his sudden weakness was, he sat Mom and me down and talked to us. He told us that we needed to start changing the way we were looking at Aarav’s recovery. According to him, where medicine and science were concerned, this was it. Aarav might always need some assistance in walking. He also suggested that it was only when we accepted this that could we hope to get Aarav to accept and normalize his state.

As someone whose sole focus over the years has been to make him independent, my first reaction was denial and despair. But then I started thinking and realised that this whole thing was not about me or any of us invested in his recovery. It was about him and how his life could be made easier and qualitatively better going forward. Does this mean I have stopped praying for a miracle? No. But does it mean that I have stopped depending on that miracle? Yes.

Soon after this, Aarav and I were chatting one day on the way to physiotherapy. I asked him if would he be very upset if he always needed to use one or even both canes to walk? He thought for a while and said “No, but it would be nice to be able to run.” I agreed and asked him what he thought his strength was. “My mind” he answered. Then I asked him what he thought he was best at. “Chess!” prompt came the reply. And before I could frame the next question, he said, “I don’t need my legs to play chess, I need my mind.” It was a small thing, but at least I made a start in showing him that he could be all that he wanted, even if he needed some help walking. My goal is now to make his canes so insignificant that neither he nor anyone around him, notices them anymore.

This entire incident was a turning point in my thinking. It’s not that I no longer have bad days. I do. I vent and cry and scream into pillows. And then I make a conscious effort to focus on what brings me sukoon. Aarav’s hand in mine as he dozes off. A hot cup of chai on a cold winter morning with a friend. Ayana’s head on my shoulder as she reads. A drive with Sameer. Gossip sessions with mom. An impromptu get-together with my favourite people. Starting a new book. Listening to a treasured song. A walk in the bracing cold. A houseful of noisy kids. Another season of a much-awaited series.

No one has an all-easy life. Curveballs will come our way and some of them will be terribly cruel and tough. What helps is finding our spot of sukoon, even if it’s for a brief while. A person, a book, a place; something that helps us reset.

We all need a slice of Sukoon in our lives. In 2025, I hope you find yours.