Old New Year

The dawn of a New Year for me has invariably meant an unending list of resolutions. But the unwavering determination with which I begin the ...

The dawn of a New Year for me has invariably meant an unending list of resolutions. But the unwavering determination with which I begin the New Year wanes quickly. In 2006, it already has.

As a child I would resolve to keep my study table clean with all my books and copies stacked in proper order. Second on my list would be the resolution to improve my handwriting. I would promise to revise whatever was done at school. And to make my own dictionary by writing down the meaning of 10 new words of English everyday.

Adolescence and adulthood brought with them their own crop of resolutions. To ward off incessant comments from my friends about my dishevelled hair, I resolved to oil them once a week. With board exams approaching I set unreachable targets of studying for 12 hours a day and drew up a timetable dividing them among various subjects, according to their difficulty quotient. Ultimately, I could not study for more than four hours a day.

On entering college, I told myself I would iron my clothes myself instead of palming off the chore to my sister. With my mother working, I resolved to help her in the household work. When I started working I told myself I would not splurge on branded clothes. Like the changing seasons of years gone by, my resolutions also came and went, most of them forgotten as trivia.

However, there is one that has perennially found its place in the otherwise changing roll of honour. All these years I have vowed to continue my battle against the bulge by going for a half hour walk every day. I decided many a time to forego the urges of my sweet tooth and to count the calories in my intake each day. My sister has been advising me to join aerobics, the gym, dance classes over the years. I listen to her advice stoically and place it in the highest slot of New Year resolutions.

Now, well into January 2006, I know for sure that resolutions are meant to be broken. After all, I am a mere mortal and a descendant of Adam and Eve. They too battled with their conscience and ultimately succumbed to the temptation of eating the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge.