One year ago, today I stepped into the minaret shaped door of my current firm, having returned to the city I grew up in.

I thought it would be tougher. More trying. I’ve been surprised.

But despite the odds, the last year has been a good one, I have to say.

I’ve not been the most satisfied on the career front. That remains the only sore point.

I spent quality time with family. The positive outcome shows on all three of us.

I saved a lot of money. Travelled to my heart’s content.

I made a couple of friends at work. Not the kind that I left behind in India. But friends.

I learnt a lot about the country I live in, stuff that I did not know in 17 years.

But we can never have everything, can we? So I confess that it is still difficult when I think of all the things I had to let go of, to be here. And I’m still not used to not having people to talk to, not doing things on impulse, working like it means nothing to me and being indifferent.

But its an achievement. For me, personally. And it might be time to move on, soon.

Today is about celebrating the one year. Prost!

Happy 100th post of 2013!

PS: On an unrelated note, birthday wishes to RB, the extremely talented and beautiful author of Fuchsia. I hope a few bottoms up will happen tonight! Much love.