I make resolutions that last a decade

I just forget what they are!

Photo by William Stitt on Unsplash

Like all of you, I make resolutions. I made one this year too.

You ask: “A resolution? What is it?”

I say: “It’s a solution to a solution. Like research.”

Then I go on to tell you the story about my resolution.

It is one I made a few years back. Well, almost a decade back. Sometime in 2007 or 2008. It has been so long I don’t remember when exactly I made it.

I loved making the resolution. I did all the research Google could ever help me with for zeroing in on the one thing I wanted to do in my life. I weighed the pros and cons of doing it. I checked all the data available to see the efficacy of making the resolution.

I remember the day I made it. It was a beautiful sunny day when I sat with my morning Pompelmo Spritz trying to absorb every iota of the sunlight that somehow peeped in through my tiny window. I watched the sunflowers and sipped on my vodka.

Oh sorry, there were no sunflowers. I think they were zinnias. Ummm, no. Actually petunias. Err … excuse me for my forgetfulness.

While I sat in the slice of sunlight, I wanted to make my resolution. I nodded to myself and smiled a smug smile. Slowly, the warm morning graduated to a windy afternoon. The sky growled like an angry tiger, hungry beyond normal hunger. I sat before my laptop, weighing the benefits of making my resolution while the kitchen weighing scale sat next to me. I checked the pros and I checked the cons. I ignored the cons. Nothing could dissuade me from making the resolution of my life.

I dug up data from somewhere and I also consulted a crystal-ball reader. Yes, these readers existed in the last decade. Now we have data scientists.

Finally I wrote it down on a paper. Not an ordinary paper. It was craft paper, glued on all sides with beads. Charming and iridiscent, it hung on the wall above my desk. I looked at it with dreamy eyes. It was the 30 of December.

Next January. 
I figured out that the cons weighed more than the pros. Somehow, my resolution wasn’t working out so well. I pulled down the glittering sheet and shoved it into a drawer.

Next December. 
I remembered my shining paper, hunted it out and reaffirmed my pledges. I wrote ‘again’ before the resolution I had made last year. It became my new resolution for next January.

Just as the data had predicted, the resolution didn’t work well next Jan too. I kept it away.

Next December, I wrote “again” before the “again” of last December.

January — hide and hibernate.

December — “again” before the “again” of the “again” of the original “again.”

The series of “again” became too much for the paper to handle. I ran out of “again” space. The paper was old and frail. It died under the burden of “again.”

Gradually, I kept the resolution intact mentally. I realized how nice it was to have the same resolution for every single year. The adding of “again” gave it a nice lilting tune. I could sing it.

For this year, I added another “again” to it. I should record a song on my resolution.

You ask: “Ok. But what is the resolution?”

I say: “The resolution? Err … excuse my forgetfulness. It’s been so long I forgot the resolution along the way. Somewhere down the years, I forgot what I had actually promised. What I remember is only the ‘again.’ Err … excuse my forgetfulness.”

Since I know you have also made resolutions only to forget them, clap for my post. We are in the same boat. A little more clapping will keep the boat afloat.

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