Now that the New Year celebrations have died down and life back in the routine mode, a thought crossed my mind…
What about those resolutions which I had made and what had happened to them? I do recollect that I had announced in a highly inebriated state yet clear and loud, at least three resolutions which I would pursue sincerely.
The three were – stop smoking, digging the nose in public and drinking not more than two pints of beer or 60 ml of spirits.
Taking a swig from my fourth whiskey and blowing rings in the air, I began to wonder if these resolutions were really worth it.
Why does this thing always happen to us? Come New Year’s and we make up our minds that some lifestyle changes are required to make the year ahead happier.
Take this year or the year before or the year many moons ago, it has been the same thing – resolution after resolution going up in smoke within a few days or just hours after they were made.
Is it righteousness or morality which has been driven into us from the first Moral Science or Religion Class we attended at school?
With my grey cells tending towards the minimum side, I was already getting a headache by now. Giving up hope of any more progress on these resolutions, I decided to read up or go to an expert to seek advice on this subject.
My mind was already uplifted by the thought that had almost 350 days more to decide on my next set of resolutions.
Comforted by that, I poured a little extra of the amber liquid, lit another cigarette and let my mind drift into another a subject which fascinated me – Newton’s Law of Gravity.
If I was born during Newton’s era, I would have urged him to become a magician and make a career out of it. I mean, juggling with a few multi-coloured balls using gravity would have been such a riot at shows.
He could have called it Newton and His Gravitational Globes. One could visualise him, wearing a tight coat over a red shirt and trousers, gold and glittering.
And just as Newton was flinging a red ball in the air, a loud voice shook me.
It was the wife with a thunderous face and fire coming out from her nostrils. The Dragon I thought, here come the Dragon.
In a voice which would have woken up people in a 5-km radius, she screamed, “Back to it again eh? This must be your 10th whiskey and 30th cigarette. All your resolutions are just a show.
“You want sympathy from others, particularly from those nubile nymphets, who keep cooing ‘you’ll do it’ while you describe the state of your liver and lungs,” she yelled.
“You are just a sympathy-seeking nincompoop who wants to draw the attention on himself.
“I can’t understand why you opted to donate your organs after death. It’s only fit for feeding the vultures, you ignoramus!”