We’re only into the third day of 2016, so it’s not yet time for my New Year resolutions to start crumbling like old cheese. But that could be because I haven’t made any as yet. Why pretend; that’s pretty much the pattern every year. I start thinking about the matter typically only around August, then mull on my thoughts through October. In November, I decide the issues I will not pass any resolutions on, and in December, I resolve to put off the matter for later.
The reason is simple. New year resolutions typically revolve around three points: getting fitter, getting holier (than thou) and getting richer. Not only can I not manage any of them, I think them somewhat contradictory.
Don’t believe me? Read any piece on fitness. There will be mention of running shoes and apparel, pedometers and GPS watches, personal trainers and gym memberships. The writer will blab on about a healthy diet involving avocado and kale, brown rice and tofu, and—the new, must-have—cold-pressed juices. The article will end with advice to invest in weighing machines, both for yourself and all you consume. All this costs money. Which means getting fitter comes in the way of getting richer.
Unless, of course, you choose to view it in a more roundabout way and say by getting fitter, you are avoiding falling ill, not spending on hospitals and medicines and, hence, getting richer. Though I must warn you that by getting fitter, you may have to live longer, and thereby keep on spending money and become poorer.
Fitness also drills holes in the reconnecting with the soul process (Resolution No. 2). A popular milepost in the getting fitter journey these days is running the marathon. This necessitates buying running apparel, high-quality earphones and shoes and, possibly, hiring a running coach or two (there goes the money). D-day involves zoning, if not elbowing, out the other runners to reach the finish line as soon as possible, and then quickly tom-tomming one’s achievement on the social network. Not exactly saintly behaviour, wouldn’t you say?
Mission unaccomplished again.
So now you know why my resolution-making process gets stymied every year: buts come in the way of my will for change.
Which is not to say I don’t have any plans for the year. There are at least five that I can think of right away.
1. I plan to figure out how to spend the film-rights money from the book that I have in my head, and of which I have almost started the first chapter.
2. I plan to throw people who click smiling selfies of themselves in front of a burning building (or any other tragedy zone) into the blaze.
3. I plan to hang up on Adele the next time she says Hello and proceeds to whine about a failed relationship.
4. I plan to petition Kejriwal to keep couples out of malls on Valentine’s Day.
5. Finally, I plan to use the first quarter to get a new start on my old bad habits. Practice makes perfect, after all.